Page 17 of Devoted Love: A BWWM Romance

“Intense. But seeing you makes it better. Grab your stuff.”

I cross my arms, shaking my head. Will he always make me feel like a teen crushing on the cool kid?

“What?”

"Nothing. I'm ready." I drop my strap across my body, and he takes my hand. We enter a large corner office. He reaches from my bag, and I shrug out of it.

Ryker offers a chair. “Does this make you uncomfortable?”

“Yes, it’s new.”

“Should I stop?” He plays with the brim of my hat.

“No, I like having you close.” I glance away, I can’t stop smiling. “Now, stop flirting, I’m already nervous.”

“There’s no reason to be nervous. You got the job.” He pats my butt and kisses me before rounding his desk.

Ryker presses a button on his phone. “I’m ready.”

I scribble notes across my iPad. The names of the people in the room, their titles, and their functions.

Ryker sits behind his desk with the look of a true boss. He asks questions of each person. He corrects when figures are wrong. He challenges the timeline injecting a hefty dose of reality to smitten Erik.

I duck my head, hiding my smile. My bet is that Brooke is Erik's lady love, and he’s whipped, as Charlee says. Ryker clears his throat, and we make eye contact.

Focus, he mouths.

I am, I counter. Then I notice the color drain from his face. Ryker’s head drops forward into his hands. Instinct places me on my feet.

“Ryker…” I hunker down beside his chair.

“I’m fine, princess." He taps on the end of my nose. "That's enough for the night. Sarah, write a summary, including the action items. Erik, we need the finalized timeline yesterday." His eyes roll.

"Goodnight, everyone." I cut off the conversations keeping an eye on Ryker. "Give us a second, please."

Sarah waits, then she slips out of the room.

"What's wrong, baby?"

“Look in the bottom drawer and get my insulin.”

"Insulin. Bottom drawer." I yank the drawer open, keeping an eye on him. "I'd feel better if you laid on the couch."

The shake of his head is weak.

“Please.”

"Call me baby again, and I'll think about it."

“Ryker, baby, stop flirting.”

I open the case. I set the insulin pen and a cartridge on the desk. I look around for a place to wash my hands before returning to him. Memories of my grandmother flood my mind, but I focus on Ryker. I bear the weight of his body before lowering him to the couch.

We move like we’ve done this before, and now his head is resting in my lap.

“When did you start going gray?” I need to keep him awake.

“My early twenties.”

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