her heart did that crazy flip-flop thing. She hated that. Really, she did.
“Come on, open up.”
She watched the doorknob twist as he tried to open the door. “Whatever you are selling, I’m not buying.”
“Michelle.”
“Unless you are under five feet and selling cookies.”
“I can pick locks, you know.”
She didn’t know, but she believed it. Michelle swung the door open. “Don’t you dare!”
Whoa, he looked good. Michelle stared at him, taking in everything. He had recently taken a shower and his wet hair was dark and slicked back.
But what really got her attention was that Ryan wasn’t wearing a shirt. His damp skin gleamed under the hallway lights. She itched to rake her fingers down the lean, compact muscles.
Her gaze dragged down the arrow of dark blond hair that dipped past his drawstring pants. The very pants that hung dangerously low on his narrow hips. One pull of that string and…
Be strong. He was good-looking, but he was false advertising. Remember that.
“What do you want?” she asked.
Ryan’s smile hitched to one side. As though he knew what she was thinking. Feeling. Wanting. “To look at your feet.”
She curled her toes against the hardwood floor. Her feet suddenly felt cold. Naked. Vulnerable. “Why?”
He revealed a first-aid kit and rattled it. “I asked Annie for it, so you might as well use it for your blisters.”
Michelle took a step back. Okay. She hadn’t expected this from him. It was sweet. Thoughtful.
She narrowed her eyes with suspicion. There had to be a catch. “Thank you.” Michelle didn’t reach for the box, wondering if there were strings attached.
“You need any help?” he asked, his bright blue eyes dancing with hope.
“I can manage on my own.”
His eyebrow arched. “Even the hard-to-reach places?”
One hard-to-reach place was flaring to life. “I’ll be fine. Thank you.” She reached for the kit and tried to do a quick grab and go, but Ryan proved quicker. His hand encircled her wrist before she could close the door.
His grip was gentle, but insistent. His thumb rubbed against the jumping pulse at her wrist. She knew it was a matter of moments before he drew her against him.
Michelle reluctantly looked up. She saw those dimples and her knees weakened. Okay, one kiss, but that was all she could allow.
“Sweet dreams,” Ryan murmured and dropped his hold before turning away.
Michelle stared at him, openmouthed. What was that all about? He could have gone in for the kiss, press her against him, but he didn’t. All he did was get her a little hot and bothered and walk away.
Michelle stiffened and her jaw snapped shut. She was tempted to aim the first-aid kit at the really defined muscles in his broad back.
Stop looking at him. Michelle swung the door shut and locked it with the flick of her wrist. He had gotten her interested. With incredible ease. After all that vowing that she would never sleep with him.
Rat bastard. At least he knew to carry Band-Aids.
Michelle hobbled back to her bed and perched herself on the mattress. She had put on the last of the Band-Aids when she heard a soft knock on one of the doors outside.
“Hey, Ryan.”
Brandy? Michelle’s head bolted up. What was Brandy doing visiting Ryan?
Well, duh. Michelle rolled her eyes on that one.
She heard Ryan’s voice, low and murmuring, but she couldn’t make out the words. Michelle craned her head in the direction of her door, hating the fact that she was considering peering through the keyhole.
Not her business, Michelle reminded herself as she heard Brandy whisper. She had no intention of sleeping with Ryan, so it really didn’t matter what was going on there.
But why were they still standing at his door? Were they going to talk all night?
She didn’t care. Michelle snapped the first-aid kit closed, set it down by her bedside table, and resolutely turned the lamp off. She slid underneath the bedsheets and pounded her pillow a few times.
She really,
“Come on, open up.”
She watched the doorknob twist as he tried to open the door. “Whatever you are selling, I’m not buying.”
“Michelle.”
“Unless you are under five feet and selling cookies.”
“I can pick locks, you know.”
She didn’t know, but she believed it. Michelle swung the door open. “Don’t you dare!”
Whoa, he looked good. Michelle stared at him, taking in everything. He had recently taken a shower and his wet hair was dark and slicked back.
But what really got her attention was that Ryan wasn’t wearing a shirt. His damp skin gleamed under the hallway lights. She itched to rake her fingers down the lean, compact muscles.
Her gaze dragged down the arrow of dark blond hair that dipped past his drawstring pants. The very pants that hung dangerously low on his narrow hips. One pull of that string and…
Be strong. He was good-looking, but he was false advertising. Remember that.
“What do you want?” she asked.
Ryan’s smile hitched to one side. As though he knew what she was thinking. Feeling. Wanting. “To look at your feet.”
She curled her toes against the hardwood floor. Her feet suddenly felt cold. Naked. Vulnerable. “Why?”
He revealed a first-aid kit and rattled it. “I asked Annie for it, so you might as well use it for your blisters.”
Michelle took a step back. Okay. She hadn’t expected this from him. It was sweet. Thoughtful.
She narrowed her eyes with suspicion. There had to be a catch. “Thank you.” Michelle didn’t reach for the box, wondering if there were strings attached.
“You need any help?” he asked, his bright blue eyes dancing with hope.
“I can manage on my own.”
His eyebrow arched. “Even the hard-to-reach places?”
One hard-to-reach place was flaring to life. “I’ll be fine. Thank you.” She reached for the kit and tried to do a quick grab and go, but Ryan proved quicker. His hand encircled her wrist before she could close the door.
His grip was gentle, but insistent. His thumb rubbed against the jumping pulse at her wrist. She knew it was a matter of moments before he drew her against him.
Michelle reluctantly looked up. She saw those dimples and her knees weakened. Okay, one kiss, but that was all she could allow.
“Sweet dreams,” Ryan murmured and dropped his hold before turning away.
Michelle stared at him, openmouthed. What was that all about? He could have gone in for the kiss, press her against him, but he didn’t. All he did was get her a little hot and bothered and walk away.
Michelle stiffened and her jaw snapped shut. She was tempted to aim the first-aid kit at the really defined muscles in his broad back.
Stop looking at him. Michelle swung the door shut and locked it with the flick of her wrist. He had gotten her interested. With incredible ease. After all that vowing that she would never sleep with him.
Rat bastard. At least he knew to carry Band-Aids.
Michelle hobbled back to her bed and perched herself on the mattress. She had put on the last of the Band-Aids when she heard a soft knock on one of the doors outside.
“Hey, Ryan.”
Brandy? Michelle’s head bolted up. What was Brandy doing visiting Ryan?
Well, duh. Michelle rolled her eyes on that one.
She heard Ryan’s voice, low and murmuring, but she couldn’t make out the words. Michelle craned her head in the direction of her door, hating the fact that she was considering peering through the keyhole.
Not her business, Michelle reminded herself as she heard Brandy whisper. She had no intention of sleeping with Ryan, so it really didn’t matter what was going on there.
But why were they still standing at his door? Were they going to talk all night?
She didn’t care. Michelle snapped the first-aid kit closed, set it down by her bedside table, and resolutely turned the lamp off. She slid underneath the bedsheets and pounded her pillow a few times.
She really,
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