Page 14 of Pose for Me
I nod, though I don’t spend much time downtown to know where he means. “Was being an architect your dream job as a kid?”
He shakes his head slowly. “I wanted to be a doctor. Cliche, I know, but my father was a pediatrician. Wanted to follow in his footsteps.”
That niggles something in the back of my mind, but I push it away. I can think about whatever it is later, when I’m not enjoying a conversation with a good-looking man.
“Why didn’t you?” I ask.
“Don’t like the sight of blood.” He shivers as if disgusted, and I laugh. “No matter what kind of doctor you become, you always have to see blood.”
If he knew what I saw today—and pretty much every day since I’ve been a federal agent—he would probably soil himself.
We chat about our jobs for a while longer—though I don’t bring up the amount of blood I see.
“Are you kidding me?” I say when he tells me about his meeting today.
“Nope. He really said he was better than me to my face. And the clients bought it. It’s all good, though. My competitor cuts corners, and his company has a terrible reputation, so they’ll find out soon enough.”
I shake my head. “The audacity of some people.”
Ryell shrugs. “It is what it is.” He leans back in the booth, searching me with his gaze. “So, you come here often?” When I give him a look, he barks a laugh. “Shit, that sounded like acome-on. I really am wondering if this is your hangout spot. I’ve never noticed this place before.”
“It is, actually. My partner and I found it about ten years ago. Not much has changed about it since then.” I look around at the bar, noting the bloodred walls with pictures of different kinds of supernatural creatures—mostly dragons—adorning the surface, the many pool table and dart boards, the tall black stools, and the vintage wrap around bar. In the time since Brock and I walked through the door all those years ago, it’s always been the same.
Ryell sits up straight. “Your partner? Sorry, I thought you were single. If I?—”
It takes my tired and tipsy brain a few seconds to figure out what he’s saying. Then I crack a grin. “No. Not that kind of partner. My work partner. I am. Single, I mean.” I look at him through my lashes, suddenly feeling shy. “Are you?”
“Yeah, I’m single. Though it seems like I’m not as good at flirting as I thought.”
“No, you did okay. It’s just…my head is all fucked up today.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
I shake my head and slide out of the booth. “No. I want to forget.” I exhale slowly, trying to push through my fear and uncertainty. “Your place or mine?”
I hold my breath, hoping I didn’t read this wrong.
Ryell slides his glass away and stands up, only a few inches separating us. He’s so close I can feel heat radiating off his body, and I sway into him, only catching myself when I look into his playful eyes. “Mine,” he says. “Give me your phone.”
My hand is in my pocket, pulling out my phone before my brain gives the command. He quickly types in his number, then sends himself a text. His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he pulls it out, glancing back at me. “Got you. I’ll text you my address.” He looks down at my mouth again, leaning closeenough for me to feel his warm breath across my lips. “I live about twenty minutes away. Be there in twenty-five.” He pulls back and drags a soft finger over my cheek. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
“I won’t,” I whisper, wanting nothing more than to have him give me a ride and fool around while he’s driving. But if I’m going to do the walk of shame in the morning, I need to have my car so I can sneak away.
He shoots me a lopsided smile. “This will be fun.”
Since I hadto close out my tab, I was a few minutes behind Ryell to get to his home. I input the directions he gave me into my GPS and start the drive to his place.
I let my mind wander during the drive, but it keeps coming back to Ryell. I don’t know what it is about him—maybe his overwhelming energy or his intense gaze—but I’ve never felt a connection so strongly to someone so quickly. Especially not after having one conversation with them at a bar. I can’t pinpoint what it is that’s drawing me to him, but I’d like to figure it out.
The GPS interrupts my train of thought, prompting me to make a left to reach my destination. I turn down a long driveway with trees on either side. Almost a full minute later, the trees clear, and I take in Ryell’s home.
“Jesus,” I whisper to the empty car, looking up at the massive house in front of me.
A grand two-story home with a large wraparound porch on a sprawling lawn, with a fountain in the middle of the driveway. The house looks like something out of that show where millionaires find their ideal home and viewers watch jealouslybecause we could never in a million years afford anything this beautiful.
Ryell opens his front door just as I’m getting out of my car. He leans against the jamb, waiting for me.
My heart is hammering with nerves. I’ve never gone home with a stranger before. Yeah, I’ve hooked up, but I’ve always met whomever I slept with at a hotel or for a quick fuck in a bar restroom.
