Page 30 of Special Delivery

I exhale, relieved to find some comfort. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he responds and heads to his room through our joined bathroom, while the sensation of his fingers still dances over my skin.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Ryan

My fingers tingle after washing the gel off. Is that supposed to happen? The feeling started after placing my hands on Paige’s back, and it still hasn’t gone away. Fuck, her skin was searing hot. I wouldn’t want to be her tonight.

It was weird me being the one to apply the gel on her back, but I couldn’t leave her hanging. She looked like she was in so much pain, and I’m not a sadistic person. No matter how much she tends to grind my gears, I don’t want to see her suffer.

Every word I said to her was the truth. I never know what to expect from her, and the fact I can’t read her drives me insane. Back in the city, I had to be able to read hundreds of people and even more random numbers just to do my job correctly. Now, I’m stumped by the one woman I’m forced to spend time with.

She’s hot and cold, a total wild card. It would be entertaining if I only knew where it stemmed from. She’s obviously attracted to me. Her competitive streak is not to be messed with. She’s easily embarrassed and seemingly shy, but what the hell is up with all the sex toys? There also has to be more to the story of Roger’s marriages and the way Jordan and her act when it comes to the engagement. She’s a mystery I can’t crack and a hot mess I can’t look away from.

A pressure raises in my head, the start of a headache. I grab my phone to search for a dispensary close by, finding unread texts in the PBC group chat.

Parker

How’s reading going?

Do you like the book?

Wes

I have two more chapters until the end.

I like it more than I thought I would.

Parker

Ryan?

Do not dare come to our book club meeting without reading the book. It might have worked in high school with our English teacher, but you can’t charm your way out of this.

A smile forms on my face.

Me

Have some faith, man.

I hadn’t had much time, but I’m on it. I’ll be ready for the meeting.

I open another text thread, the corners of my mouth dropping.

John

It’s a madhouse here, man. When are you coming back?

John was my colleague back in the city. He was the closest thing I had to a friend there, but this is only the third text I’ve received in the six weeks I’ve been back home. All of them have been about work. Still, I opt for a noncommittal answer.

Me

What? Can’t handle a little work without me holding your hand?

John

Oh, I can, don’t worry. But these hostile takeovers were more fun with you around.