Page 91 of Faking It Right
Ryker grippedthe steering wheel as if it were the only thing keeping the car from flying off into space, his knuckles stark white against the worn leather. He pulled into our apartment complex with more focus than parallel parking warranted. The drive back from his parents’ house had been easy, full of bad playlist sing-alongs and the deliberate-but-oh-so-casual brush of his hand against mine. But the moment our tires hit the pavement of home sweet home, the mood shifted.
“Home sweet home,” I said as he parked in our assigned spot.
Ryker nodded, his eyes fixed straight ahead. “Yep.”
He made no move to get out of the car. The poor guy looked like he was mentally calculating the pros and cons of running into traffic.
“You planning to sleep here tonight, snookums?” I teased, unbuckling my seat belt.
That snapped him out of it. “No, sorry. Just thinking.”
“I can see the smoke coming out of your ears.” I opened my door and stepped out, stretching my arms above my head. “Let’s get our stuff inside before you overthink yourself into next week.”
We moved to the trunk, and I grabbed the heavier bags, leaving Ryker to juggle his backpack and small overnight bag. As he bent to pick them up, the opportunity was too perfect to pass up. “Damn, your ass looks fantastic in those jeans. I should send your mom a thank-you note for those genes.” The pun was too good to resist.
Ryker straightened so fast he almost dropped his luggage. “Harley!”
“What? I’m letting you know I appreciate the view.” I winked for good measure. “One perk of being your boyfriend is that I get to say that stuff out loud instead of only thinking it.”
He rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “You’ve been saying that kind of shit out loud for years.”
“True, but now you appreciate it in the spirit I intended.”
We made our way to the apartment, Ryker fumbling with the keys. I stood close behind him, bags in hand, waiting for him to unlock the door. When it swung open, I moved forward at the same time he did, our bodies brushing in the entryway.
When I stepped closer, Ryker locked up like someone who’d been asked to explain their kinkiest fantasies to a room full of prudes.
“Whoa, easy there,” I said, stepping back to give him some breathing room. “I’m not going to jump you the second we’re back.”
His face flushed. “I know that.”
But did he? I could practically see the thought bubble floating above his head, worrying about how he expected me to pounce the moment we crossed the threshold, like some horny vampire who needed an invitation before ravishing him.
I followed him inside, dropping our bags down by the couch. Ryker stood awkwardly in the middle of our living room, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He glanced toward the hallway leading to our bedrooms, then back at me, clearly waiting for me to make a move.
Instead, I took Jacinta’s food into the kitchen to put in the fridge, then returned to plop down on the couch and grabbed my phone. “I’m hungry. Want to order some takeout? I’m thinking that Thai place with the curry you love sounds good.”
Ryker blinked at me. “You want food?”
“Well, yeah. Your mom’s cooking is too good to devour everything today, so I want to save some for later. We haven’t had anything since the sandwiches at the rest stop. Plus, I figured you needed to relax after the drive, so takeout makes more sense than getting back in the car to go to a restaurant, since we don’t have any food here because we were gone on spring break.” I opened the delivery app. “Unless you’re not hungry?”
He made air quotes with his fingers. “‘Relax’ after the drive?”
I laughed at his skepticism. “Yes, Ryker. Relax. As in, plant our asses on the couch, eat delicious food, and watch something delightfully mindless on TV.”
His brows furrowed as he said nothing.
Did he really think I was only interested in getting him naked? I mean, don’t get me wrong. I wanted that, too. But seeing him standing there, bracing himself as if sex was some inevitable toll he had to pay now that we were home, hit me harder than I expected.
I set my phone down and patted the couch beside me. “Come here.”
He hesitated, then sat down, leaving a cautious foot of space between us.
“Ryker, look at me.” I waited for his gray eyes to meet mine. “I know I joke around a lot, and yes, I find you incredibly sexy. But that doesn’t mean I expect this to be a fuckfest 24-7 now that we’re living together and don’t have to worry about your family interrupting.”
His eyebrows shot up at my bluntness. “You don’t?”
“Of course not.” I shifted to face him more directly. “Believe it or not, I understand the fine art of boundaries and timing. We spent a week at your parents’ house and had an hours-long drive through traffic that could make a snail look like it’s in a hurry. If all you want to do is eat curry and pass out into a food coma, I fully support that plan.”
