Page 11 of Rent: Paid in Full
I’d love to tell you about the rest of his body. I really, really would. Can’t, though, because, for some reason, my boy is cagey as hell about it. Pulls his covers right up to his armpits in the mornings and scurries back and forth to the bathroom, closing the door—and locking it—when he gets changed.
I take my tank off and toss it into the hamper. I don’t have any real reason to do it other than the fact that I have a feeling it bugs Ryan, and plus, I don’t spend half my life in the gym not to show this shit off.
I think I might make it my mission to lead by example while we’re sharing a room. Body positivity, self-acceptance, and all that. He flinches, head whipping forward a couple of inches as I throw it, even though it misses him by a mile. I stand behind him and watch him for a bit longer, fighting the temptation to trace my thumb up his spine and outline the bony knobs of each vertebra in his neck.
I wonder if he’d punch or slap me if I did it?
Strangely enough, both of those options hold some appeal. That’s unusual for me. I’m not usually into that kind of thing. At least not when it comes to receiving. I bet he’d be furious if I laid so much as a pinkie on him. Bet he’d jump up, fists balled, all indignant and shit. Bet those gold flecks in his eyes would light up. Bet he’d look wild.
Bet he’d look even wilder than he already does.
Bet he’d make a pretty sweet sound if I sank my teeth into the meat where his neck and shoulder meet.
Bet he’d groan softly and roll his eyes back, even if he meant to kill me later.
Bet he’d taste so good it might almost be worth it.
“Table for four.” I hand the hostess a folded twenty. “Could we sit in Ryan’s section, please?”
“Sure,” she trills, widening her eyes significantly. “We have a booth open near the bar. Are you friends with Ryan? Know him from college? He’ll be so happy to have you here. It’s just what he needs because he’s not having the best day. His truck brokedown on the way to work, so he was in a bit of a mood when he got here—”
She prattles on as Dean, Trip, and Sienna take their seats. I hang back to ensure I get a spot on the edge of the booth.
Ryan arrives at our table a few minutes later wearing a face one would normally expect to see on someone who recently stumbled upon the scene of a heinous crime.
He sets the menus down on the table roughly. “What do you want?”
Trip and Dean look at each other in bewilderment for a second, and then they ready themselves to turn on Ryan. I cut them off with a hard look and an easy smile.
“Holy shit,” cries Sienna, eyes flashing as she looks him up and down, “are you the guy who used to tend bar at Vibe Check?”
“Yep,” says Ryan, flipping his notepad open and readying his pen to take our drinks order and get the fuck away from us as fast as possible.
“Thursday and Friday nights, right?”Jesus, Sienna, don’t make me regret bringing you out tonight.“My friend, Lori, always used to try to go when you were working. She’s the little one with the dark hair who talks a lot.” Ryan shows little sign of hearing her, but she doesn’t notice. “Why’d you stop working there?”
“Got fired.”
“No!” Sienna is outraged on his behalf. She’s only just met him, but it’s clear she can’t fathom a reason an edgy bar like Vibe Check would let a face like his go. In fairness, she does have a point. “Why’d they fire you?”
Ryan blinks and looks down his nose at her. “Something about an attitude problem.”
Oh God, he’s not just hot.
He’s complicated and rude.
Dean and Trip bob their heads and Sienna shakes hers at the preposterousness of that.
“What can I get you to drink?” He over-straightens his posture, clicks his heels together firmly, and then immediately looks mortified.
Jesus. He has no idea how to behave. None whatsoever. That’s his thing.
And fuck me, I’m into it.
Trip and Dean’s faces are a picture of slow confusion. Sienna, on the other hand, is charmed. Utterly charmed. It seems like it’s only just occurred to her how sad it is that waitstaff don’t do this kind of thing anymore and she’s only too happy to be part of it.
Ryan returns a few minutes later and dumps a bowl of chips and some salsa on the table, setting them down with enough force to make the salsa slop onto the table.
“Whoopsie.” Sienna smiles, turning her face slightly to give him a view of her best side as she mops the spill up with a couple of paper napkins before Ryan has a chance to do it.