Page 21

“Sorry, my mom and I are going to watch a movie. Have fun!” I say, noticing how much my response surprises him.

But before he can say anything else, I turn toward the hall as my dad exits the kitchen, announcing he’s heading over to Uncle Ace’s to discuss business.

Which means the two of them are going to play cards and argue until they both say they won’t ever speak to one another. For a week.

After cleaning up, I throw on a purple soft-knit loungewear set with a long, fuzzy cardigan.

Cozy slippers warm my feet as I head down to our library den.

It’s my favorite spot to watch movies in the house.

Plus, it holds the theater popcorn machine.

The aroma of the buttery treat has my mouth watering as I descend the main stairs.

I round the corner to the foyer and pause, hearing two voices laughing. One is clearly my mother’s, but the other is deep…and eerily familiar. My heart thuds against my ribs as I creep down the hall.

When I twist the knob and enter, my blood stops moving.

Ryan Cardell leans against the bar near the bookcases, with dishes of ice cream and various toppings spread before him, as he and my mother chuckle at whatever they’ve been chatting about.

I interrupt them with a frenzied demand. “What are you doing here? Let me rephrase. What are you doing here ?” Scanning for a weapon, I remember the Glock hidden in the radio cabinet, but it’s on the other side of him.

“Oh, hey, pink cheeks! Just thought I’d stop by and introduce myself to your mom. And now I see where you get your wanton determination to win any competition.”

My mom laughs . Like, full-belly guffaws. She rarely makes a noise like that, and I feel as if I just intruded on some inside joke. Which is bizarre, considering Ryan Cardell doesn’t know my family !

“Are you serious right now?”

Mom’s eyebrows knit together. “What’s wrong, honey? Ryan brought ice cream.”

Along the bar top in fancy dishes is mint chip—the exact kind I always ordered from the shop downtown that stopped carrying it two years ago.

A tiny jar of Amarena cherries, crushed waffle cone pieces, espresso dust, and that ridiculous coconut syrup I only mentioned once… in my group chat with the girls.

With a smirk, he showcases his spoils. “An entire bar of it with toppings. Want some?”

“No! I want to know why you’re here.”

My mom’s eyes narrow at me with a warning. “Your, um, friend came by to introduce himself. Why are you being rude , Penelope?”

I think about telling her that he came on my lipsticks. That he fingered me in public in front of my cousin. And that he seems to be following me wherever I go, but before I say anything, he pulls up his phone and flashes the screen behind my mom’s head.

Like I’m on a roller coaster and just went over the big hill, my stomach swoops at the sight.

It’s the video from the night I blew him.

Ryan gives it a little shake as he smirks, then he winks and makes a kissing face while my mom stuffs a spoon of hot fudge-covered vanilla ice cream into her mouth.

“Grab some dessert, and we’ll start the movie. Ryan, you’re staying, right?”

“Of course, Livy.”

Livy ?! No one calls her that, except my uncle. “I’m not hungry,” I say, monitoring Ryan’s movements like he may bite me, infecting me with whatever spell he’s put my mother under.

“You can’t complain about the selection, Ryan. It’s girls’ night, so you have to watch what we want,” my mom explains.

Ryan grabs a bowl of popcorn from the machine, then strolls straight to me, laces his fingers through mine, and leads me to the loveseat. When he sits, he tugs me down next to him, snags the blanket behind us, and throws it over my legs.

“How about Clueless ? ’Cause I love a good rom-com,” he says, tossing a handful of popcorn in his mouth, chewing with a big smile on his face.

I narrow my eyes at him. “You don’t like Clueless .”

“ As if !” He quotes it, and part of me wonders if he watched it recently in order to use some lines on me.

Shaking my head, I grab the remote and flip through the selections. “ Clueless isn’t my favorite movie,” I lie. “I want to watch something else.”

“Whatever you want, P.I.C. I’m just here to spend time with you.”

My eyes flash to my mom’s face, but she’s smirking, as if she’s about to bust out with another laugh. She looks pleased as punch . It infuriates me. “That’s a good man, Ryan,” she says.

Once we settle on something, I can’t focus. Ryan remains a perfect gentleman, only attempting to share popcorn with me, but never touching me. At one point, he puts his arm around the back of the sofa and tugs my hair lightly, but that’s it. Somehow, him not doing anything makes me even more angry.

As soon as the movie ends, I stand and say, “I’ll walk Ryan to the door.”

“Oh, it’s pretty late. He could sleep in one of the guest rooms.” My mom stretches, and Ryan cleans up our snacks.

“Nope. He needs to get back to Northview tonight, I’m sure.” I cross my arms and stare him down.

“Actually, it would be safer, I think, if I could spend the night here. If you don’t mind, Livy.”

“Not at all!” Mom gives me a pointed look. “Show him to one of the suites, Pip. I’ll let your father know we have a special guest. He won’t mind.”

I stroll from the room and Ryan trips over the coffee table on his way to keep up with me.

“Are you mad at me? You seem mad,” he says in a taunting tone, but I refuse to answer.

Taking him up the back stairs, I lead him to the farthest and darkest little rooms in the dank halls of the manor. Ones that haven’t been updated in twenty years and still smell like mice. Tossing open a door, I show it off. “Here. I hope you have a terrible night.”

I spin to leave, but he catches my arm, drops it, and leans against the frame. “You’re not going to give me a goodnight kiss?”

“No.”

“I’ll just come take it from you later, then.” He turns toward the room, and I snag his T-shirt.

“No. You won’t. I’ll beat the shit out of you if you try.”

Reaching one long arm up, his broad chest drifts toward me as he grips the door frame to hold himself up.

His face inches close to my ear until I’m startled into stillness.

His scent hits me. All spicy, earthy, and sharp at the edges.

“But you have to do what I say.” Blue eyes, shielded by his black lashes, flutter to my lips as he sucks in a deep breath, taking mine with him. “And I want a goodnight kiss.”

It’s as if he’s already pressed his mouth against my skin, the way it tingles. But I use every muscle of restraint I have to lift my chin and take a step back. “Don’t expect to see me in the morning.”

Even as I hurry toward the main area of the house, part of me wonders if I should have at least been nice enough to give him a better bedroom. And I think of a million excuses to turn around and speak with him again.

But I’m also proud of myself for not.

After I brush my teeth and hair, I slip on a fresh oversized T-shirt, then return to my room, bury myself under the sheets, and reach over to turn out the lights.

When I do, a pair of hands grabs me to pull me back to the bed, a scream wrenching its way from my throat.

A palm slaps over my mouth as Ryan presses his chest to my back and says, “Now…about that goodnight kiss.”