Page 25 of Molly

“She?” he asks, chuckling.

I roll my eyes. “Yes, she. She’s a plant.”

He raises an eyebrow, looking confused. “Is it actually a girl?”

I scoff playfully and push past him, heading towards his bedroom with the plant. “I assume you use your ensuite more than the other bathroom?” I ask over my shoulder. He nods back, watching me walk away. I freeze when I get to the doorway, realising I’ve never actually been in here. Honestly, there’s not much to see. It’s decorated the same as the rest of his house; so, not at all. His quilt cover, dresser, and bedside tables are all white, and the king-sized bed frame is upholstered in dark grey linen. No art, no personal touches, nothing. For an artist, his house is so damn boring. He’s definitely going to need more plants...

I walk into the ensuite and find a good spot on the vanity for his new roommate.God, I hope he doesn’t kill it...

I look around, surprised. This bathroom is fucking huge. There's a two-person shower lined with floor to ceiling dark grey tiles, a long, deep, claw-foot bath, and a giant frosted glass window that makes the room glow beautifully. That shower could be a lot of fun...

“Looks good in here,” Ryan says, making me jump. I didn’t even hear him come in.

“Oh, yeah, it does.” I reply, clearing my throat. “I’ll bring more, try and liven the place up a little. This room would be perfect for some devil’s ivy.”

He grins and steps towards me. “Whatever you want, Mol. You ready for your surprise?”

“Depends what it is. Am I going to like the surprise?” I ask, nervously.

His grin widens. “Mhmm, come on,” he replies, holding his hand out for me to take.

I put my hand in his, and he leads me to the lounge room. Stopping abruptly, he spins around and says, “Alright, you stand right here, close your eyes. I’ll be back in two seconds.” He sounds like a kid on Christmas morning, and his excitement is rubbing off on me.What on earth has this man got planned?

I nod and shut my eyes. I can hear his footsteps getting further away, a door opening and closing, a thud that sounds like it came from outside and then his footsteps again, coming towards me. I gasp as his hands touch my arms, taking me by surprise, and my skin immediately pebbles with goosebumps. He softly runs his fingers up and down before pulling me forward. I lean into his chest, my eyes still closed, and breathe in his fresh, masculine scent.

Ryan’s head drops closer to mine, and he whispers, “Alright, you have to keep your eyes closed. I’ll guide you, okay?”

“Mhmmm,” I murmur into his chest, not wanting to come up for air yet.

He turns me slowly and pushes me forward, holding my shoulders. We walk to what feels like the other side of the fucking house, and I almost trip over three times. “Eyes closed, baby, no peeking.”

“They’re closed, they’re closed. Just don’t let me fall,” I whine.

“Alright, stop here. You can open them now,” he says, letting me go.

When I open, he’s standing at the doorway to his backyard, grinning like an idiot. I look around the room, confused; what’s so special? He tilts his head towards the open door, and I suck in a breath when I see it. “Oh my god, Ryan...”

The backyard, which is normally a very basic, minimal courtyard with a little patch of lawn, is lit up with fairy lights. It’s 8:00PM, so the sun’s gone down, and yet everything’s glowing. He’s taken a scene from a romance novel and placed it at my feet; White linen tepee, Moscato, strawberries, red roses, romantic music, the works. I feel my eyes well up, and I turn to him. He’s looking at me with so much heat in his expression I can feel it run through me.

“I’ll Be” by Ed McCain plays softly through the outdoor speakers as I ask, “You did all this for me?”

He nods, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Not much I wouldn’t do to see you smile at me like that, Molly.”

I gulp at his confession. I’m falling far too hard and fast for him.

I stand frozen while he makes himself comfortable on the picnic rug he’s placed on the ground. He smiles up at me and holds his hand out. “Come sit down with me?”

This can’t be real...

I walk over on shaky legs and sit while he drapes a thick white blanket over my shoulders. “Want a drink?” he asks, holding the bottle of my favourite Moscato up and wiggling it at me. I nod, and he pours us both a glass, handing me mine and then leaning forward to place a soft kiss on my lips before pulling back and taking a sip.

“You’re going to spoil me, Ryan,” I whisper around the flute.

He leans in again, and I feel his breath hit my ear as he says, “That’s the plan.”

I put my drink down and reach for him. I run my fingers through his hair and then bring my hands back around to rest on each side of his face. I search his ice-blue eyes and see nothing in them but complete adoration.

Penny’s wrong. He’s not going to hurt me. Not when he looks at me like that... right?

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