Page 60 of The Import Slot
“Just impressed with you. Everything. You’re so photogenic it makes me sick,” I say with mock contempt.
“You are too. We need to take more photos. Come here.” He stands, takes his phone out of his back pocket, and unlocks it, opening the camera. He pulls me into him and snaps a photo.
“You cannot post that ever. I look terrible!” I say, grabbing his phone and zooming in.
“You look beautiful,” he says, kissing my cheek before bending down and grabbing a side panel.
“Do you want your phone back?” I ask, holding it out.
“Nah, keep hold of it for the time being,” he says.
I look at him to see if he’s being serious or not, but he doesn’t even look remotely antsy at the fact his phone is in the hands of a woman.
“Wow. No guy has ever let me hold their phone for more than a second.
“I’ve got nothing to hide, babe.”
“I’m not saying you do, but Nathan—” I stop myself. I don’t want to talk about Nathan, and I doubt Ryan wants to hear about him either. “Forget it. I’m sorry.”
I remember when Nathan told me I wasn’t allowed to even look in the general direction of his phone, let alone touch it, which usually means one thing. I was an idiot to stay with him for as long as I did.
“Yeah, Danny has been telling more about that douchebag,” he says, and it makes me anxious. Why has Danny been talking about me?
“What’s he said?” I ask.
“Only that he wasn’t a good person and—” Ryan stops when Vicky calls from the hallway.
“I’m going out, Jenna.” She pokes her head in. “Oh, hi, Ryan. How’s it going?” She gives us a wave and heads off, the door slamming behind her.
“Did you notice that?” My voice comes out oddly high.
“What?”
“Vicky, just then! She couldn’t even look at you.”
He shrugs. “It’s probably because I’m so handsome.”
“You’re such a dick!” I say, giving him a playful shove. “Fancy an Earl Grey?”
He snickers, and I head off to the kitchen, boiling the kettle and readying the mugs.
I lean against the counter as I wait, my eyes settling on Vicky’s iPad, which she’s left on the counter. The kettle clicks off, and as if it’s been timed, the iPad lights up with an incoming call.
I can’t help myself. I lean in to see.
‘FaceTime call from Liam Preston’.
It rings off and then starts again.
“Ryan? Could you come here a moment, please?” I shout through, and a few seconds later, he’s in the kitchen.
“You okay, babe?” he asks.
I look down at the iPad like it’s about to set fire, and his eyes follow my gaze. He stares at it momentarily before picking it up just as it rings off again. We’re both watching the screen just as an iMessage comes through, and it’s as if the Gods are on our side because the message preview is on.
‘You’re the one who called off our wedding, Vic.’
“Wedding?” Ryan says, his eyes wide.
