And it drew me in like this magnetic pull or a moth to a flame. All those cheesy things people say about attraction.
But below the physical connection （which I’m sure isn’t too hard for any girl to possess with a guy like Ryke Meadows） there’s something more strong and pure. A friendship built from three years of non-fucking. Of talking and laughing and yes, maybe a little bit of flirting.
And below that. There is only need.
I didn’t realize it was there—that need—until the nightmares of my dreams became the nightmares of my life. And he’s the kind of guy who wants to slay all those monsters for me. Too bad he can’t get to the ones in my head.
Even if he tries.
As he grabs a clean shirt and jeans, he straightens up and meets my gaze. I shouldn’t stare anymore, but I end up eyeing his muscles, the ones that are so supremely cut. Most people would be able to tell that he’s an athlete by looking—and not some muscular bodybuilder type. He’s light enough that he can ascend a mountain quickly, but strong enough that he can carry his weight on a single finger.
A black tattoo with reds, oranges and yellows engulfs his right shoulder, right chest and ribs. It’s an intricate design of a phoenix bound at the ankles, the inked chain extending along his side. A gray anchor is on his waist, a portion disappearing beneath his drawstring pants.
He looks kinda like someone you’d dream about waking up next to but never really think you would.
Despite this darkness that often swirls in his eyes, there’s a hardness along his jaw that’s dangerous, unapproachable, something that instantly hypnotizes me.
I can’t look away.
Even though I should.
His eyes narrow with each ticking second. “Don’t look at me like that, Daisy.”
“I’m not looking at you like anything.”
“I can tell when someone’s attracted to me,” he says without missing a beat.
“How?” I want that power that he has. I want to know if he finds me desirable. But maybe he never will.
His gaze falls to my shirt that reveals a little bit of my stomach. He inhales deeply, and something switches in his eyes, a look that says you’re fucking beautiful. I want to touch you. He’s never stared at me like that before—and if he has, he’s kept it from me.
I wish it didn’t affect me, but I can feel the back of my neck grow hot. I try to keep my composure, not wanting to be another silly girl that crumbles in his wake. He just barely licks his bottom lip as his gaze rakes me over.
And then his eyes return to mine again, and they’re hard once more. “That’s the look you were giving me, sweetheart.”
Oh. He called me sweetheart. I linger on that for a second, not hearing anything else really.
“Daisy?” He glares.
I smile. “You called me sweetheart.”
He rolls his eyes and repeats, “That’s the look you were giving me.”
“Oops,” I say with a noncommittal shrug. I was just staring. I wasn’t planning on jumping his bones. I wasn’t even fantasizing about his cock inside of me. Chaste. My thoughts were so chaste. Maybe not now, but they were.
“Fucking understatement.”
I stand up on the bed again so I have the height advantage. “I can freak out if you want me to.” I touch my chest theatrically. “Oh Ryke, I fucked up big time. Kill me now.” I hold out my hand towards him and bounce on the mattress again. “Apothecary, the poison.”
His lips twitch into an almost-smile. And almost-smiles from Ryke are practically grins. I’ll take ‘em. “Cute,” he says. “Just remember—”
“We’re friends,” I finish. “Platonic, non-fucking friends. I remember. And I agree, in case you forgot.”
“I didn’t forget.” He tilts his head towards my bathroom door. “I’m going to take a fucking shower and then head out. I’ll see you tonight at your sisters’ place. They’re still throwing that going away party for you?”
“Yep.” In four days, I’ll be modeling at Paris Fashion Week. One week will be for work. Three weeks in France will be for me. I nearly beam at the thought. I’ve never been allowed to tour France, and as a model, I go to all of these beautiful countries and cities, but I rarely ever see them. It’s the first time my mom isn’t chaperoning me. I know Rose convinced her to give me some space. For that, I hugged my older sister until she had to pry me off.
I plop down on the bed and hang my legs off the edge, closer to Ryke than before.