Chapter 5-A Horrible Disaster

ISLA'S POV

The house stayed too quiet after he left.

I locked the bedroom door, pressed my back against it, and waited until my heartbeat finally slowed. His warning still sat under my skin like a bruise.

‘Leave while you still can.’ The way he'd said it hadn't sounded like a suggestion. It had sounded like a promise.

I forced myself to move anyway.

My suitcase sat where I'd left it. I started unpacking, but I kept glancing at the door, half expecting him to walk back in at any moment.

When I finally finished, I went into the bathroom and turned the shower on full blast. The hot water loosened the tension in my shoulders, but it did nothing to chase away the memory of those sharp green eyes.

Afterward, I dried off, pulled on an oversized shirt that fell to mid-thigh, and dropped onto the bed. There they were again. Ryder's eyes. Cold and steady, like he already knew every secret I was trying to hide.

I shook my head and tapped my cheeks lightly with both hands.

“You're here for a purpose,” I whispered to the empty room. “He's the enemy. Don't get distracted by some guy with green eyes.”

Exhaustion must have finally caught up with me, because the next time I opened my eyes, the room was dark. Moonlight slipped through the curtains, and my phone screen read 11:47 p.m.

My stomach growled so loud it almost scared me. I groaned and forced myself upright. The house was still silent, like I was the only person left on earth.

I rubbed my eyes, half asleep, and padded barefoot out of the room. The hallway was dark. I moved carefully, listening to any sound that he was home. Nothing. Everywhere stayed quiet.

I yawned as I reached the kitchen, then stopped mid-yawned.

My breath caught in my throat.

Ryder stood by the coffee machine with nothing but a dark towel wrapped low around his hips. The towel looked like it was fighting for its life. Water still clung to his skin, tracing the lines of his back and the hard cut of his shoulders. His hair was damp and messy, like he had just stepped out of the shower himself.

He slowly turned, green eyes fixed on me.

“You’re still here,” he said. Cold. Flat.

I forgot how to speak for a second. Then I found my voice.

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

He said nothing. Just turned back to the coffee machine like I wasn’t worth another word. The tension in the room felt thick enough to choke on. Everything seemed to hold its breath.

“Mind if I borrow your kitchen?” I asked.

He ignored me.

“Jerk,” I muttered under my breath.

I opened the fridge. There was milk. At least I could survive on cereal until morning. I turned to open shelves for a bowl and immediately realized the problem. Every single shelf sat too high. Of course. This house wasn’t designed for short people.

I stood on my toes, stretching as high as I could. My finger brushed the edge of a bowl but couldn’t quite grab it. I stretched harder, the big shirt riding up.

A sudden warmth appeared behind me. A large hand reached over my head, pulled the bowl down, and set it on the counter within easy reach.

I gasped and spun around so fast I almost knocked into him. He was right there close enough that I could feel the heat coming off his bare skin. Close enough that the scent of his soap mixed the coffee filled my lungs.

I quickly stepped away.

“Do you always walk around in a towel?” The question left my mouth before I could stop it.

His eyes stayed on mine, unblinking. “This is my house. I can act however the fuck I want. If you don’t like it, you’re welcome to leave.”

My mouth opened, then closed. I couldn’t find the right comeback. Finally I settled on the only safe thing left.

“Thank you.”

He just stood there with his coffee, completely ignoring me again. I rolled my eyes and turned back to the counter. I poured the cereal into the bowl, then reached for the milk. My hands were shaking from the whole tension. I poured too fast. The carton tipped. Milk spilled across the counter and poured onto the floor in a white puddle.

“Shit.”

I stepped backward without looking. My bare foot landed directly in the middle of the puddle. The floor vanished under me. My arms flailed. I grabbed the first solid thing I could find.

Which happened to be Ryder.

My fingers closed around the edge of his towel. He moved at the same time, one strong arm wrapping around my waist to keep me from hitting the floor. The sudden force yanked the towel loose.

It dropped.

We both froze.

Ryder stared down at me with absolute murder in his eyes. His arm was still locked around my waist, holding me pressed against his bare chest. My heart slammed so hard I was sure he could feel it. I didn’t know what possessed me, but my eyes dropped.

And went round in pure shock.

I registered every detail in a single suspended second…the hard lines of his body, the heat of his skin, how close we still were. I was about to shove myself away when a new voice cut through the kitchen like a blade.

“Holy fuck. What’s going on here?”