Page 19 of Chasing Thunder

Ryder stood at the stove when I arrived in the kitchen. His hair was still mussed from sex and sleep. He wore only pajama pants that hung low on his hips. He turned and flashed me a heart-stopping grin.

"Morning, beautiful. Hungry?"

"Starving," I admitted, diverting my eyes from the trail of fine hair on his stomach that led to places that left me ecstatic the night before. “Nice of you to provide breakfast.”

“Last night was a workout.” He slid a plate loaded with pancakes, eggs, and bacon across the table my way. He reached over, caught me behind the neck and captured my mouth in a kiss. “The fight with O’Connor was just the warmup.”

“Serving jokes with the eggs this morning?” I remarked, my mouth smirking and tingling from his kiss.

“Just being honest. We worked up an appetite.” His hand cupped my cheek. There was no roughness to his touch, but it was dominant and claiming in its tenderness.

As he talked and looked at me with a warmth in those eyes, I could feel myself falling for him. The tingles also formed in my stomach, replacing hunger with a sweet desire to come around the counter and go into his arms.

I couldn’t let it happen. Not again. We already crossed the line twice. What were we going for, a new Olympic record? "We can’t let this food get cold. Let’s eat.” I kept my voice cheerful as I changed the subject. Ryder seemed to see right through me. Despite my effort, the sexual tension remained between us.

I couldn’t handle the silence. "This looks amazing.” I gestured at the spread of pancakes, bacon, and fresh fruit. “Thank you.”

"My pleasure." He smiled. "Eat up. You'll need your energy for the gym today."

At the mention of the gym, reality made its way in. I was here, in Ryder's home. The only reason why I popped back into my old hometown was to interview him for my article. Last night had been a lapse in judgment fueled by attraction and chemistry that couldn't be denied. But I had a job to do.

As he poured coffee, we chatted about neutral topics like his upcoming fight schedule and my article research. His hand brushed against my arm as he moved past me. As I ate, I caught him staring at me with unguarded affection when he thought I wasn't looking.

The domesticity of it all left me conflicted. I couldn't deny how right it felt to be here with him like this. Right now, in this sunny kitchen that smelled of coffee and sizzling bacon, things felt simple. Uncomplicated. All that existed was me and Ryder.

Why keep fooling myself, though? How could I stay involved with someone off-limits professionally and emotionally? As much as it pained me, I knew I had to pull away. I needed to remember why I was here.

"Hey, about last night." I began, slowly.

Ryder's gaze was intent on me, his expression open and earnest. "Yeah?"

I looked down at my half-eaten plate before viewing him again. "It was amazing, but it can't happen again. You have your title to maintain, and I'm here for work, not to get involved."

I caught Ryder's downturned expression, but he quickly composed himself. "Sure, I understand.”

I nodded, wishing I felt relief instead of a heaviness on my shoulders. “The sooner we get back to our routine, I'm sure things will feel normal.”

He didn’t express agreement. “I’ll call a car to take you to your place.”

An uncomfortable silence descended. The domestic intimacy evaporated like steam from the coffeemaker, leaving behind only stilted manners between us. I mourned its loss, but kept telling myself I made the right decision. My work had to come first.

As for my feelings, well, exactly where did those get me in the past?

"Take your time eating. I should get to the gym." Ryder, voice back to its usual gruffness, stood up from the table.

I half-rose from my seat on the barstool. “But your match ended less than twelve hours ago.”

“Today isn’t a day off for me. I’m always training for the next round. I'll see you there."

I nodded, unable to meet his eyes. As he left, I steeled myself for maintaining emotional distance, no matter how difficult it would be. My priorities were clear. I hoped my emotions would get the message soon.

I finished breakfast quickly after Ryder left, figuring that putting physical distance between us sooner rather than later would be the best thing. As I rinsed my plate, my eyes landed on his coffee mug in the sink. For a moment, I let myself imagine waking up to this domestic scene every weekend. Shaking my head, I banished the thought. I couldn't let myself get sucked into daydreams.

Through the kitchen window, I saw a car pull up in the driveway for me. I ran to Ryder’s bedroom to toss on the clothes I had on the night before.

Less than a half hour later, I was back at my sterile little hotel room. I showered and changed into work clothes before grabbing my laptop bag and heading out to my own vehicle. The check engine light came on as soon as I turned the key.

Crud.