Page 25 of Hellbent
But Ryder…Ryder is different.
He’s the alpha in a room full of wolves. His house. His land. His men. If he doesn’t want me here, it won’t matter what the others think.
I take off Jake’s t-shirt and change into yesterday’s clothes, running my fingers through my hair before checking myself in the mirror over the dresser.
Not bad. Pale, yeah, but healthier than I looked a week ago. I straighten my shoulders, school my face into something neutral,maybe even likable, and follow the sound of clinking dishware into the kitchen.
Ryder’s got his hair tied back, and he has a shirt on now—a good thing and a bad thing.
I won’t be left breathless by the sight of his half-naked body again. But despite myself, I’d probably do anything to see it one more time.
Not the point, though. This isn’t about perving on a man who’s probably a decade older than me, anyway. It’s about making peace, proving I can contribute, making sure I have a reason to stay.
I hover in the doorway. “Hey.”
Ryder’s sitting at the table, slicing the ends off a pile of green beans. He lifts unsmiling brown eyes to me.
I raise a hand in a half-hearted wave.
Idiot. Why did I wave?
“Hey,” he answers, already looking back down at the cutting board. Not rude, exactly. Just…dismissive.
Even through his fitted white t-shirt, the hard lines of muscle pull my attention against my will.
I shove my hands into my back pockets. “Can I help?”
He doesn’t even glance up. “Nah, I got it.”
For a second, I almost leave. I could retreat to Jake and Damian’s room, finish Jake’s hacking book, even though it’s boring as hell. But I can’t afford to take the easy way out. I need to show him I can pitch in. Add value.
I linger, feeling increasingly awkward, then finally blurt out, “I don’t want to be a burden. I want to contribute.”
My cheeks warm as Ryder lifts his eyes again, frowning slightly.“Where’s Wyatt?”
The question throws me. Like he’s really asking,Why are you here without him?As if Wyatt were my keeper.
I shift uncomfortably. “He’s at home, I guess. I went out with Jake and Damian last night, and they figured it’d be easier for me to stay here. But when I woke up, they were gone.”
Ryder’s jaw flexes. “That why you were wearing Jake’s t-shirt this morning?”
His voice is flat, but heavy with implication. His eyes flick down my body. Then, just as quickly, he looks back down and keeps chopping.
My cheeks burn. Like I’ve been caught. Which is insane.
Like he has any right to judge.
I tamp down my embarrassment and push forward. “Do you know where they are?”
If Jake were here, this conversation would be easier. Ryder clearly has no interest in talking to me.
“Work.”
I frown. That doesn’t make sense. The garage is closed on Sundays. And Jake works a normal nine-to-five office job.
“What kind of work?”
The knife slices cleanly through the last bean. Ryder kicks his chair back with a loud scrape, scooping the trimmed ends into his palm.
