The morning sunlight spilled across the study, dust motes floating lazily, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside me. Ryan was there, leaning casually against the edge of the desk, arms crossed, eyes locked on me as he could see straight through my thoughts.
“You’re late,” he said, calm, teasing, but I felt the weight in his tone, the unspoken demand behind the words.
“I had to deal with Jake,” I said, moving closer, trying to sound casual, though my pulse thumped fast enough to echo in my ears. “He dropped by this morning.”
“And?” Ryan asked, eyebrows raised.
“And nothing,” I muttered, though the way I said it made it obvious I was lying. “He left. I told him not to bother me.”
Ryan’s gaze sharpened, but his expression stayed controlled. “Good,” he said softly. “Because we don’t
