Page 70 of Say Yes to the Nemesis

I shrug. “I don’t know. Java Monkey, I guess. Then maybe Iris’s place.”

He rolls his eyes like I’m a wayward, difficult child. “No,” he says.

“You won’t allow that? Since when are you the boss of me?”

He starts to make his way over. “Come on.” He waves toward his house. “Come inside. You can stay here until Jay gets back. But he could be gone all night.”

Ryan gives me a side-eye.

“Yeah, that’s fine. You’re not just wandering around in the middle of nowhere.”

It’s the first time we’ve been alone since we hooked up. Honestly, I’m not in the mood for him right now. I just want to sleep. But Ryan’s house is right here. His couch is certainly more comfortable than an air mattress at Iris’s.

I sigh, deflated. “Fine. Lead the way.”

He gives me a questioning look. “That’s it? That’s all you’re gonna say? You’re not gonna push back?”

I shake my head. “Nope. I don’t have the fucks to give. I’m extremely tired.”

Rather than say anything else, Ryan just herds me into his house. It strikes me that I’ve actually never been here before, even though he and Jay have been friends for years. We walk up his front steps. He unlocks the door, ushering me into the living room.

It’s nice in here. Not what I expected at all. Decorated with dark, heavy furniture and maps on the wall. I toe off my shoes and pad over to his couch, still wearing my bag. I let it sink to the floor beside me and sit on the couch.

It’s actually pretty comfortable. Nice and bouncy. Cushiony, and deep.

“I don’t mean to intrude on your sanctuary here.” I crack a joke.

Ryan finishes taking off his shoes and putting his keys and wallet in a dish by the front door. He smirks and walks over.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he says. “I’m just really careful about my privacy. Jay’s been here, if it helps.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m getting serial murdered here. I was just kidding.”

Right. This is awkward. As awkward as awkward can be.

I press my lips together. He pats down his pockets. It’s something I’ve seen him do before when he’s at a loss for what to say or do, so I guess he’s feeling the tension just like I am.

“Should I order some takeout? From anywhere you want,” he asks. “Maybe we can watch a movie, if you’re up for it.”

His tone is sincere. It’s an effort not to make fun of him. I just flush and agree.

“I feel like a weird knockoff Barbie in this outfit,” I mutter. “Like one of the ones they only made a hundred of, with a tragic backstory.”

Ryan’s eyes trail over me, slow and unhurried. “You look hot.”

I snort. “You’d say that if I showed up in a potato sack and heels.”

He shakes his head. “You’ve always been pretty. Now the rest of the world just finally sees it.”

My throat tightens. For once, I don’t fire back. I just let myself feel it.

I sit in the living room while he orders from the Tin Shed. He doesn’t ask me for my order, so I just assume I’m getting a burger or chicken fingers. He briefly goes upstairs to change into gray sweats and a dark T-shirt. He also brings a shirt and a pair of oversized shorts and offers them to me.

“What is this?” I ask.

He holds them out. “Something to change into. Don’t be weird about this. You’re making me jittery.”

“Weird, huh?” I take them and look at my bag. Technically, I have my silk shorts and thin tank top in there, but it’s been a while since I’ve washed them. I kind of want the opportunity to wear Ryan’s clothes. As weird as that sounds.