The Mix-Up (Southern Hearts Club #3) - Melanie Munton Page 0,77
I make sure everyone stays that way.”
“Seems like your friends know you pretty well,” he points out.
“They’ve certainly come farther than anyone else.” Even farther than Ross—there are just some things you can’t tell your own brother. Yuck.
Ryder’s expression turns intense. “Don’t be so sure.”
I tuck my tongue in my cheek. “Don’t be so confident. We’ve worked together for nearly a year, and there’s still a lot you don’t know about me.”
“You’re familiar with the story of the tortoise and the hare, right? The tortoise won that race with patience and perseverance.” His grin turns mysterious, unnerving me. “I’ll win this race by using those same tools.”
“I’m a race now?” Not sure how I feel about that.
“It’s sure felt like it,” he murmurs. “And you can damn well bet I’m going to beat out any hare that challenges me.”
That sounds far too on the nose for my comfort. Too possessive. Like how he’s behaved with the whole Myles situation. How he reacted when he didn’t know Ross was my brother. Is he really saying that he won’t let another man come near me?
His expression says hell yeah, I am, duchess. Took you long enough to figure that one out.
All of a sudden, I’m feeling very…claimed.
Dinner was amazing, despite the serious turn it took. The restaurant was swanky as hell, and I’m pretty sure I saw Anna Kendrick sitting at a table in the far back corner as we were leaving. My belly is full of wine and cheesecake, and I’m floating on a cloud that I suspect isn’t just from the wine and cheesecake. Sure, New York has an energy about it. There’s a vibe in this city you can’t find anywhere else.
But Ryder…
He’s the real reason why it feels like I’m defying gravity right now.
We’re walking arm-in-arm down Fifth Avenue with all the other New Yorkers and tourists in town for tomorrow night’s festivities. I’m tucked into his side like a girlfriend would be, but I’m leaning into it. It just feels too damn good. I couldn’t care less about the implications of labels right now.
Plus, it’s balls cold out—negative balls cold—and Ryder emits body heat like a furnace.
We turn a corner amidst a bustling throng of other pedestrians. “This isn’t the way back to the hotel.”
“Good eye.”
“And we’re going the wrong way because…?”
He tips his head at something across the street. “Because the night’s not over yet.”
I follow the direction of his gaze—and my stomach sinks. Taking me to Rockefeller Center at night can only mean one thing. “Pass.”
His hold on my waist tightens when I try to walk in the opposite direction. “Scared, duchess? That’s a new one. You’re right, we definitely have to mark this day on the calendar.”
I’m a big enough girl to admit that yes, I’m a little scared.
Big girls would admit that out loud.
“Ryder…I’ve never ice skated before in my life.”
Something about the risk of cracking my head wide open on the hard ice has always freaked me out.
He moves in front of me, blocking my view of the street, and frames my face with his hands. “Then let me be your first.”
I choke on a laugh, drawing a smile from him.
“Come on,” he coaxes softly. “You don’t always have to be so tough, you know. It’s okay to lean on me every once in a while. It’s good for my masculinity.”
I duck my chin to hide my smile. He keeps doing that. Making me smile when I don’t really want to. “I’m going to look like an idiot.”
“Not possible. In fact, I think you’re the only person on the planet who will make falling on her ass look sexy as hell.”
I shove him. “You’d let me fall?”
“I’ll do my best not to. But there’s only one way to really ensure your safety.”
“What’s that?”
“You have to hold my hand the entire time.” As he says it, he laces his fingers through mine. “And you can’t let go.”
My exhale comes out long and heavy.
“Well played, boss man.” I go up on my tip-toes, bringing our mouths closer. “But that means if I go down, you’re coming with me.”
He brushes his lips against mine. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“Yeah, I’m still not getting the appeal of this,” I complain as Ryder and I slowly shuffle around the ice rink.
He squeezes my gloved hand, which no, he has not let go of. Regardless of his impressive balance, I won’t let him move us too far away from the safety of the wall.