Line in the Sand
691 Words
Ryland
She was next to me. In my car. f*****g hell.
I gripped the wheel a little tighter than necessary, trying to focus on the road instead of the way Krystal kept biting her damn lip. Every few seconds, her teeth would tug at the soft flesh, and my eyes—like a f*****g traitor—kept darting to them.
"Can you stop that?" My voice came out rougher than I intended.
Krystal blinked, looking at me, brows furrowing. "Stop what?"
I flicked my gaze to her lips. "Biting your lip."
She sucked in a breath, cheeks tinting the lightest shade of pink, and immediately turned to stare out the window. Like that would f*****g help. Like I wouldn’t still notice every damn movement she made.
"What are you looking for?" I asked after a beat, needing something else to focus on besides the way the blush was creeping down her throat.
She hesitated, then sighed. "An apartment."
I stilled. The words hit me like a f*****g punch to the ribs. "An apartment?"
She nodded, still not looking at me. "Yeah. I mean… it’s not really appropriate for me to keep staying at your estate. I’ll be working for you guys, and it—"
I slammed the brakes.
Krystal jolted forward slightly, hand shooting out to brace against the dashboard. "Jesus, Ryland! What the hell—"
I turned to her, barely keeping my temper in check. "You’re looking for a f*****g apartment?"
She blinked, finally facing me. "Uh… yeah?"
The irritation was immediate, burning through me like wildfire. "That’s a shitty idea."
Her lips parted, caught between confusion and annoyance. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." I leaned back against my seat, jaw tight. "Why the f**k would you leave?"
Krystal sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "Ryland, it’s not like I’m leaving for good. I just think it’s the right thing to do. I don’t want to overstay my welcome—"
"Bullshit."
Her eyes snapped to mine. "It’s not bullshit."
"You don’t overstay your welcome when you were invited to stay in the first place." I exhaled, gripping the wheel until my knuckles turned white. "And don’t f*****g expect me to keep this from Travis."
She groaned, slumping against the seat. "Ryland—"
"Nope. Can’t promise you that, princess."
I saw the way her jaw tightened at the nickname, her fingers curling into fists in her lap. She was pissed. Good. So was I.
The rest of the day was pure f*****g torture. Krystal kept looking at buildings, scanning the streets, probably picturing her life in one of those shitty little apartments. And every single time, it set my blood on fire. I didn’t like the idea of her leaving. At all.
By the time we got back to the estate, I was hanging by a thread. She went straight to her room, and before I could even process what the f**k I was doing, I was right behind her.
Krystal barely had time to turn before I pressed a palm to the door, caging her in. Inches. We were f*****g inches apart.
I sucked in a sharp breath, drowning in the scent of her. "Stay."
Her lips parted. "Ryland—"
I pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. They were soft. Too f*****g soft. "Don’t argue."
Her eyes darkened, something flickering behind them. "I was just—"
My fingers trailed down, brushing against her bottom lip, dragging it down slightly. Her breath hitched, and I felt it in my damn chest. My restraint was slipping. Every inch of me demanded I close the distance. Taste her. Claim her.
I tilted my head slightly, voice dropping. "I’m not asking. I’m telling you. You’re staying here."
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, the defiance warring with something else in her gaze.
I took a step back, forcing myself to break the moment before I did something reckless.
"And I’ll make sure you stay," I murmured, turning on my heel and walking away, leaving her standing there, lips slightly parted, eyes burning a hole in my back.
Fuck.
This was going to be a problem.
- Writer
