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I glanced at the clock. It was five-thirty in the morning. I was too hungry to worry about niceties. I grabbed my keys and walked across the hall, knocking on his door. Rosie at my heels.
I tapped my foot, irritated with the wait. He finally opened it, hair in disarray, sprouting in all directions from his head, eyes bleary.
“Aidy. Are you okay?”
“I’m not in labor. I’m hungry.” I bypassed him and beelined to his kitchen, which was the same clean granite-and-white appliances as mine.
Once again, Rosie followed. I gasped in delight as I grabbed a loaf of bread. I pulled out a slice and shoved it in my mouth, chewing furiously.
“Want an omelet?” he asked.
I glanced back to see him kneeling on the floor, his large hand stroking my puppy’s shiny fur. My heart melted and my vagina tried to take notice. But I refused to acknowledge all his bare skin and sleek muscle next to puppy preciousness. I was on a mission.
“You know, some protein to go with those carbs?” he asked.
“Make it quick,” I said. “Or I might eat your arm instead.”
He chuckled even as he stood. “Give me a sec.”
Oh, my. My cheeks flamed as I took in the broad expanse of his nude back. Ryder’s broad shoulders tapered to narrow hips, and all the way down, my gaze caught on interesting ridges and swells that slid into the valley of his spine. He worked out. Often. No other way he’d have that body. I stood by my original assessment that he looked like the Men’s Health model. Only even more defined and sexier.
My gaze dropped further.
“Um, I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” I asked, my eyes still on his fabulous ass encased in the thin cotton barrier of his boxer briefs. Oh, hell, they were Calvin Kleins. I would forever have a deep-seated love for the brand thanks to their perfect framing of Ryder Mackay’s ass.
“Yes.”
Oh my…he’d brought her here.
My stomach tried to turn itself inside out, but then it grumbled. Fuck it. If he were getting action, I definitely deserved this loaf of bread and a good ogling for my fantasies.
He started to turn toward me, and I barely managed to drag my eyes up before he caught me ogling.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I shoved part of the slice of bread in my mouth and snagged a banana and an apple from his counter, which I piled atop the loaf of bread. I headed toward the door, saying, “Apologies for interrupting…ah…yeah, well. Bye.”
He cocked his head to the side, clearly unable to understand me through my slice of bread and my mumbled shame. Rosie whined. I glared at her.
No, traitor, we could not stay for more petting.
“I was sleeping.”