![]() ![]() Still, if Ryan believed me, why wouldn’t he warm up? He’d punched Matt for winning the game, insulting Ryan’s skill at football and with women, and implying I’d wanted him. He’d punched Matt Barrett in the face for leering at me. That was it? Okay? “So-it’s fine?” I hedged. And then he just-it was totally unexpected. When I turned back to Ryan, his glacial expression hadn’t changed. “Ye of little faith,” he snorted, but I saw the flare of interest and the slight grin as he left. “Oh, and Thomas-if you’re looking for a rebound, I think Sara Milton is, too. But, you know, if you’re not back in twenty minutes I’m going to come back for you. ![]() I pushed the door wide and gave him a pointed look. ![]() “Thomas, I can handle this, okay?” I pitched my voice low as we approached the pool house door. My gaze flickered back and forth between the two, and then I dropped Ryan’s hand and hauled Thomas off by the elbow. ![]()
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