Page 62 of Pucking Wild

“Why didn’t you let me know you were home?”

“I thought you were asleep,” I repeat.

His eyes narrow. “No, you didn’t. You saw the light on. You were hiding out in here. Why?”

“You don’t need me mothering you, Ryan. You’ve got a line of WAGs and rookies ready to take care of you—making all your meals, driving you around. You don’t need me in the way. Especially after…you know, after how I behaved this morning,” I finish lamely.

Hobbling further into my room, he leans his hip against the dresser. “Something with Shelby had you spooked. I was hugging her when you came in. Was that…did it upset you?”

“No,” I reply.

“Because she’s married,” he goes on. “I’m not—I mean, we’re not—I’m not into Shelby.”

I smile softly. “I know that, Ryan.”

“Well then what was it? Can you please tell me?” He looks so damn earnest. He genuinely wants to know. And damn it, but I feel like telling him.

I cross my arms over my bare tits. “She looks like my ex-husband’s mistress.”

His pretty green eyes go wide. “She—what?”

I drop down to sit on the edge of the bed. “Shelby bears a shocking resemblance to the secretary who used to pleasure my husband under his desk at work…andonthe desk…and in my house in my bed,” I reply darkly. “In fact, I know on at least one occasion he was trying to slip her out the back door while I wasinthe house.”

“Jeez.”

“Today was just a lot for me, okay? I signed my divorce papers, and Troy got them this morning. He was the one calling me nonstop, looking for a fight. The marriage has been over for years, but I never bothered with all the legal drama, and this is why. My ex is a grade-A narcissist with a god complex. Pepper in a dash of crippling incompetence and a pinch of toxic male privilege, and it makes him vindictive…and dangerous.”

Ryan goes still, his breath tight in his chest. “Tess, does he know where you are?”

“No.”

He steps closer, leaving the support of the dresser. “But can he track your phone to Jacksonville? Because if he can track your phone to Jax, the Prices will be the first place he looks for you. He knows about your friendship with Doc, right?”

I nod. “Yeah, he knows.”

He lets out a breath, glancing around the trappings of Ilmari’s minimalist bedroom. “You shouldn’t stay here. We need to get you situated somewhere else. Somewhere he wouldn’t think to look. You could go stay at my house,” he offers quickly. “I can give you the keys.”

I blink back the sharp sting in my eyes, trying to flash Ryan an unconcerned look. “So, what, are you secretly a cop or something?”

“No,” he replies. “But my dad was until he had to medically retire. Some of his buddies were always around when I was growing up to…you know…be around,” he finishes with a shrug.

I don’t miss his use of the wordwas. A father’s friends forced to step in and help raise a young man? I’m sure there’s a sad story there.

He turns away like he’s about to leave.

“Ryan—wait,” I call, getting to my feet.

He stops at the door and glances over his shoulder.

I cross the room over to him. “Where are you going?”

“To get you my keys,” he replies.

I reach for his arm. “Don’t,” I say. “It’s late already. And I don’t want to go to some strange house and stay there all alone,” I admit. “I want to stay here…I want to stay with you.” I lower my gaze to where my hand is touching his bicep. The muscle underneath his T-shirt is corded and strong. I brush my hand down his arm to his elbow. Now I’m touching skin, my fingers grazing along the soft hairs of his forearm.

“Tess,” he groans, eyes shut as he holds still. “Please…”

“Am I safe with you, Ryan?” I step in closer until my peaked nipple grazes his elbow. I watch goosebumps shoot down his arm.

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