“Because I live here.”
“You have a bedroom.”
“So do you.”
God, this is like talking to a child. “Keep your things in your room.”
“You want me to keep my coffee cup in my bedroom?” She holds it up, trying not to laugh.
“Well…” I stumble. “Okay, that can stay, but everything else… I like my space a certain way, Indy.”
“Boring, you mean. Ryan, your house was like a prison cell. It needed some life.”
“There’s a fucking tree in my living room!”
“Actually, it’s a Fiddle-leaf fig plant and it’s there because this window faces the east, and the perfect amount of sun comes through here. Bright but not too direct. I have a north facing window. It wouldn’t thrive. So, maybe you could take a breather thanks to the oxygen it’s providing, yeah?”
What the fuck?
“What?” she asks as she puts her hot coffee in the fridge to cool down. “I’m not some blonde Barbie without a brain.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. The dumbfounded look plastered on your face said it for you. Most people think so, and apparently you do too.”
My expression softens. I don’t think that at all, but she is a gorgeous human and I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t the first thing I noticed.
“I thought you liked flowers over plants.” My attempt to shift the tone of conversation is nowhere near smooth, but somehow, even though she’s the one who has taken over my apartment, I’m the one who feels bad.
“I do, but flowers are typically more high-maintenance and with how much I travel for work, I can’t always take care of them.”
I scratch the back of my neck. “I could…maybe help you take care of them.”
What am I doing? I pulled her out of bed so I could get my apartment back to normal and here I am asking her to make more of a mess by offering to water her fucking flowers?
But I need a favor from her, and I came in hot with my yelling this morning.
“You’d do that?” She stands up straighter as a bit of hope overtakes her.
Well, shit. I can’t exactly take it back when she looks like that. “Sure.” I shrug.
“Thank you, Ryan! I haven’t been able to have fresh flowers at home for years. I’m so excited! There’s an adorable flower stand a few blocks over. I’m going to go there today!”
I get it. I can read between the lines. The asshole she lived with before didn’t offer to take care of them while she was traveling for work so she couldn’t have any.
Fuck that guy. Unfaithfulness puts you in another category in my book. You’re automatically unredeemable. Which is probably why I’m doing everything I said I never would by allowing this girl to live in my home while making her life as easy as possible.
What she’s going through resonates with me, and if Indy having some flowers in my apartment will make her happy, well then, I guess I’m growing a green fucking thumb.
Jesus, how’d she get me to agree to this?
“You’ll have to teach me what to do,” I remind her.
“I will.” She quickly nods with excitement, skipping around the kitchen island to meet me. Her arms swing around my neck in a hug, pressing her body to mine.
Stilling, I stand with my arms at my sides as she grips me tighter, not allowing me to get out of this. I’m not sure that I want to. Her hold is surprisingly calming and the nervousness I felt over the change in my surroundings is long gone. I haven’t been touched in a long time, and I know this is platonic and only a hug, but I forgot how nice it feels to have a woman wrapped around me.
“Hug me back, Ryan,” she mumbles into my shoulder.
Cautiously, I press my hands to her back and their size overtakes her. But apparently that’s not enough reciprocation because she stays holding me, not letting this end just yet.
My cheek falls against hers, sliding against the column of her neck until blonde hair surrounds me like a curtain. A soft tropical scent, maybe coconut, invades me and as I inhale, my hands slide around her waist, pulling her body closer to mine.
Two peaks pucker between us, pressing into my upper stomach and her unexpected arousal stirs mine again.
Indy is tall for a girl, 5’9” if I had to guess, and the bulge in my pants is resting dangerously close to the apex of her legs. I know she can feel it, but she’s not pulling away.
God, I’m pathetic. I’m so starved for human touch that I’m getting a hard-on from a fucking hug.
“How the hell did you get me to agree to that when I woke you up with the intention of clearing your shit out of my living room?” I whisper against her.
She pulls away and instantly, I miss the connection. “It’s that charming thing I’ve got going.”
I wish I could disagree.
“If you want me to take down the curtains, move the plants, and put my blanket in my room, I can. I was reading on the couch last night and left it there. Sorry.”
She floats around my kitchen pulling out eggs and bacon from the fridge, including a mixture of fruit I put together the other night. Taking my mug out from under the coffee machine, she hands it to me, offering her brightest smile as if I didn’t just wake her up by yelling at her. “Good morning, by the way.”
“You’re awfully cheery for someone who claims not to be a morning person.”
“Well, if I let a bad mood take over every time you annoy me in the morning, I’m never going to be happy again.” She turns back, cracking a few eggs into a pan while stretching bacon out onto another.
Taking a seat at the kitchen island, I adjust myself, trying to push the needy erection away as I watch her. “I thought you were a vegetarian.”
“I am. But you’re not, and I’m making you breakfast.”
“You don’t have to do that. I woke you up by yelling at you.” I scrub a palm over my face. “I can take care of myself.”
“I’m sure you can. But I like taking care of people. It’s kind of my thing.” She smiles at me over her shoulder.
Fuck, she’s pretty.
I sit in silence, drinking my coffee while she cooks. Truthfully, I wanted to be the one to cook her breakfast again. It seemed to impress her last time, and I got off on seeing her happily eat my food.
“Your curtains can stay. And the plants and your pillows and blanket. But you’ve got to get your naked men off my bookshelf.”
Her back vibrates with a laugh. “Deal. Although, you could learn a thing or two from my book boyfriends. You do have that broody, mysterious thing going for you already though.”
“And that devastatingly handsome thing,” I add for her.
She places my breakfast in front of me, a knowing smile pulling at her lips. “You’re all right, I guess.”
Indy takes the seat next to me, and I’m not going to lie, this is nice. Sharing a meal with her, spending a morning together. Of course, I’d probably feel this way if it were anyone, but I’ll admit it’s nice to come home to someone for once.
“Speaking of boyfriends…” I begin with caution.
“Please tell me you straightened that out with your GM.”