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“It’s okay,” I assure him as I head to the kitchenette and grab two water bottles from the fridge. “You’ll get there. Here, take a break.” I hand him one of the water bottles.

“Thanks, but I got this.”

He does the move over and over, working so hard that sweat breaks out on his forehead. My gaze drops to his injured leg. Could it be that’s what’s holding him back? Is he in pain?

“Ryder.” I put my hand on his arm, trying to stop him. “You’re going to hurt your leg. Please take a break.”

He makes no move to slow down, so I tighten my hold on his arm, though not strong enough to hurt him. That doesn’t seem to have any effect on him.

“Ugh, you’re more stubborn than me,” I grumble as I pull him toward the sofas in my room. But it’s like pulling on a freakin’ tree. “Come on, dude,” I mutter as I continue to pull. “Help a girl out here.”

“I’m not stopping until I get this right.”

“I’m going to splash water on your face if you don’t quit.”

“That won’t stop me.”

“Like heck it won’t.”

I uncap the bottle and throw it at the back of his head. But he chooses thatexactmoment to finally stop and turn around to face me. So, the result is half the water from the bottle all over his face and dripping down his clothes.

“Oops!”

“You said you wouldn’t splash me if I stopped! Istopped.”

“Sorry!” I dash to the bathroom for a towel and toss it to him. “I didn’t think you would actually stop.”

“Darn, that was cold.” Wiping his face, he falls down on my bed and groans.

“Are you getting my ballerinas wet?” I accuse.

He wipes the back of his neck. “Serves you right for giving me a freezing shower.”

“You’re so ridiculous,” I say as I lower myself next to him.

“Here we go again. You’re the ridiculous one.”

“No, you are!”

“You are!”

“We both are!” I say.

He opens his mouth to retort, but then he chuckles and says, “Yeah, we both are.” He glances at the ballerinas under his butt. “Sorry. They did get wet.”

“Louisa and Marta?” I say with a frown. “Those two are my favorite.”

His brows lift. “Louisa and Marta?”

“The Sound of Music?”

“Oh. What do they have to do with dance?”

“Seriously, dude? Have you seen the movie? There’s dancing in there. Mostly singing, true, but they also dance. Don’t give me that look. I liked the choreography when I was a kid.”

“I’m not giving you any look.” He shifts over and touches the two ballerinas. “Sorry Louisa and sorry Marta for getting you wet.”

“That one is Louisa and that one is Marta,” I point out.