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I glare at his back as he storms down the hallway toward another long hallway that likely leads to the end of the damn earth, and mutter, “It’s Wren.”
“Whatever.” He comes to a stop outside a door at the end of the fourth hallway, if that’s possible, and waves his hand at it with a fake smile. “Here you go, enjoy your stay.” Before I can thank him, he’s already walking away and heading back into his room.
This room is much different than the one I first walked into. Instead of black-out curtains keeping the sun from shining through the window, natural sunlight spills onto the carpet, and dust bunnies fly through the air in front of it. This bed is slightly smaller than the one in Ryker’s room, but it’s got a tan comforter draped over it instead of black, and it makes me feel more at home.
I find that I’m missing that masculine smell, which only frustrates me because this is off-limits. He’s a client with an anger problem, one that I’ve been hired to manage before he needs to go back on his tour. This is definitely not the trouble I need in my life right now.
When I lay back on the bed, I nearly pass out from exhaustion as the soft mattress dips under my weight. I take a few deep breaths with my eyes closed, taking in the warm sun glowing on my face, then remember that I forgot to bring my bag in here and jump from the bed.
Surprisingly, my red bag is outside my door, and I cautiously wheel it into the room with a frown. Is there someone else here I don’t know about?
I shake my head at the question. That doesn’t matter – as long as I’ve got my things and can start situating them in the room. As much as I’m hoping this job will only last a few weeks, I’m worried Ryker’s anger will require more than that, and I’ve come prepared for just that.
Once people realize he’s staying here in Arizona rather than New York City, I’m sure there’s going to be a crowd gathered outside the iron gates begging for a picture with him and I’d rather not have to push myself through that when the time comes.
Another knock sounds on the door, and Ryker’s voice echoes through the other side of it. “Foods in the kitchen if you’re hungry. Don’t expect it to stay there.”
Such a gentleman.
Now would be a good time to assess him since he seems upset about something. I quickly shove my clothes into the dresser sitting along one wall, then move over to the vanity next to it and place the small amount of makeup I brought with me onto the flat surface.
Even if I don’t go out anywhere, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared for the time to come.
When I’m done, I pull open the bedroom door and head down the hall in the direction of where I believe the kitchen to be. I’m relieved when I step into the living room, which has an open concept with the kitchen.
Ryker is sitting at the island, eating his food while watching a video on his phone, and I calmly enter and study his features.
As if sensing my stare, he looks up at me and glares. “Do you mind?”
“Everything okay?”
“Are we really going to do this right now?” He mutters, then tosses his fork onto the plate in front of him. “Let me guess, you want me to go deep into my feelings so that you can find the root of my problem?”
Instead of answering, I simply lean against the counter and stare at him.
He shakes his head and mumbles, “Not happening.”
As he says this, I pay attention to his posture and it straightens as if to prove he’s tougher than I think he is, but I can tell he’s bouncing his leg against the stool he’s sitting on and that shows the nerves he’s hiding deep inside – or the anger.
“What happened?”
“You showed up here. That’s what happened.”
“Are you against therapists?”
He sighs heavily. “I’m not against therapists. I just don’t think I need one.”
“And why do you think that?”
“Just like I told Mack, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. That’s how it’s always been and will continue to be.”
I arch a brow at the small hint of information, then turn back to the plate of food sitting on the counter. “Is this mine?”
“Are you the only one here?” When I don’t answer, he adds, “Then, yes, it’s yours.”
“Thank you.”
His only response is to grunt, and I grab my plate before making my way back into the bedroom.
