Page 49 of Fierce-Hyde

“That you’ve got this with your family. Oh wow, is that Ryder?”

“High school graduation,” he said, grinning. “This one is college. Some of our friends.”

A group of hot college kids. Good lord, no wonder why they were cocky.

“I don’t have any pictures like this of Raina and me in college. None of my family either.”

All the pictures she had in her apartment were decor. Nothing personal other than Raina’s wedding picture.

“How come?” he asked.

“I have a picture of Raina and me at her wedding, but that’s it. I told you some of my childhood. I guess maybe I didn’t want pictures of that either.”

Which just brought back the conversation she had with her mother a few days ago.

She’d always been the adult in the house and it just got tiring.

Even living states away, she still had to give advice and clean up messes.

“I’m sorry about that for you,” he said. “I’ve got wine if you want a glass. Not sure if it’s what you had tonight, but it’s white.”

“Did you plan this?” she asked, putting the picture down and following him to the kitchen.

“You suggested this, not me,” he said. “So that would be no. I’ve had the bottle here for a while. I like to have white and red in the house in case I get company. And I’m not talking about women. My mother and sister drink wine and they have been known to come over.”

“I find that sweet,” she said. “They come to visit or bring you food?”

“They come over and I cook for them,” he said. Her jaw dropped. “What did I say?”

“Nothing,” she said.

She wanted to giggle over him hitting all three of the traits she and Raina laughed about. A job, a good family relationship, and someone who cooked.

There was a lot more to relationships than that, as she knew already with Hyde, but she wanted to know more abouthim.

Yet looking around his home, she thought she was more judgmental with him than she’d been with anyone else.

“What’s going through your mind?” he asked when he handed her the glass of wine.

“So much,” she said, taking a sip.

He poured himself a glass too and they went to sit on the couch. “Tell me about it.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you. We’ve had some hiccups and I think the fact we are still here proves that we can talk through anything. I’d like to think that is a good characteristic trait of us both.”

“That’s a very mature thing to say.”

“I’ve been known to be mature before,” he said, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows over the rim of his glass as he took a sip.

Oh well, here goes nothing.“I feel as if I’ve made so many mistakes with you.”

“I could say the same. And like that broken record we’ve talked about before, here we are still talking about it.”

“Then I wonder if it’s only hormones.”

He coughed on his wine. “Excuse me?”

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