Page 20 of When I Had You

Short answer: Yes.

I didn’t know how sad and sexless my life had become until now.

Looking at him with his presence consuming the room and implanting dirty thoughts into my brain, I indulge before he opens his mouth again.

That’s when we tend to get into trouble.

He loves to disagree with me. I kind of love that he does as well. He keeps me on my toes. Who needs another yes man hanging around like a groupie in your life anyway? Not me.

Cash Ryatt is the kind of guy who doesn’t beat around the bush and tells the truth like his life depends on it. Basically, he doesn’t take it easy on me, and I like that for some reason. He’s refreshing in the most unassuming of ways and grumpy from a side that feels more like a bad mood than a personality trait.

None of that matters, though, now. I’ve never felt more protected or safe than when I’m in his care.

Cash is the opposite of Corbin and every other guy I’ve dated. They were pretty and predictable, from their upbringing to their schooling to the expensive haircuts and perfectly pressed jeans that their stylist picked out.

I never knew a troubled bad boy was my jam, but tonight, Cash Ryatt sure is.

My mind is fuzzy in the last rays of moonlight, and I’m tipsy in the early morning hour. Sucking in a breath, I slowly exhale, allowing my body to loosen the tension. “My dad always told me that nothing good happens after two a.m.”

Cash’s eyes find mine across the room when he turns around. “He’s right.”

Resting back against the leather, my bad decisions feel bigger in the back seat. “I shouldn’t have gone out.” Or maybe it’s just his presence consuming the airspace and my attention.

“Probably not, but you should have left when your friends did.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he studies me as if he’s seeing art for the first time—intrigued, delving as deeply as he can without touching.

My breath picks up under his heavy gaze as I stare at him, counting the tics of his jaw before he speaks again.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

“I get that your agent told you to be seen, but what were you hoping to achieve?” he asks in a lowered tone, letting down his guard and defenses along with it.

“I wanted out of my head for a while. I wanted to be free without worries like I used to be.”

“Is your life that awful, Marina?”

The absence of babe, sweetheart, and even princess is noticeable, making me wish I could hear them from him again. If for no other reason than to fire me up in some form of irritation instead of sinking into the deep end of my emotions again. “I like to dance. Have a cocktail and be with my friends. Not always having to think about everything. Just move to the beat and lose myself. That’s all. No great mystery. It was fun until I turned around and discovered they were gone. I got a text. What am I going to tell them? No, you can’t have sex with the guy you were just making out with on the dance floor. We’re twenty-six.”

“Twenty-six? That’s your age?”

“Yeah.”

I watch as he crosses the room, rubbing his forehead. I can’t make out what he’s mumbling, but it seems to get the better of him because he’s now shaking his head.

Not sure if it’s the night or my age that bothers him more. “How old are you?”

“Too old for you.”

I laugh but then scoff when I realize he’s serious. “What’s too old for me, gramps?”

This time, he chuckles. Taking two bottles from the minibar and twisting the top off one, he returns to give to me. “Here. Water never hurt anyone.” He takes the top off his bottle. “I’m thirty-five.”

I have no idea why I’m grinning other than I’m enjoying myself . . . at his expense. “Thirty-five?” I exclaim in a teasing tone. “Geez, maybe I should be getting you the water and making sure you’re hydrating. Need me to go out and get some prunes or maybe I have a piece of hard candy in my purse for you.” I take a large sip, then watch as he tries so hard not to give in and laugh.

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