At 9 PM sharp, there was a knock at the door. Amber stood up from the couch, quickly glancing around to make sure everything looked decent. She took a deep breath. Her heart raced, but she didn't let it show. She walked to the door and pulled it open. There he was. Ryan.
Somehow, he looked even better. His hair was a little messy, like he’d run his hands through it too many times. He was dressed in dark suit pants and a gray shirt, a couple of buttons undone, revealing just a hint of skin. Everything about him screamed control, confidence, and ease.
Amber blinked, her fingers tightening on the edge of the door. She hated that he had this effect on her. “You’re on time,” she said, her voice cold, stepping back to let him in.
Ryan’s eyes swept across the small space as he walked inside, his movements calm but deliberate. “Always am,” he replied, his gaze lingering on her for just a second too long.
A faint crease appeared on his brow. The decor was minimal—almost non-existent, with furni
