Chapter 18
Rylan waited, his gaze locked on her as she lingered at the front door. Her hand rested on the handle, but she wasn’t turning it. It was as if she felt the same invisible tether he did—an almost physical pull that kept her rooted in place.
“Okay,” he said suddenly, the word coming out firmer, more decisive than he’d planned.
She turned, one brow lifting, her eyes narrowing just slightly. “Okay?” she repeated, clearly unsure what he was getting at.
“Okay,” he echoed, taking a measured step toward her, his jaw tightening. “Let’s get to know each other.”
Her confusion shifted to suspicion, those green eyes sharpening. “Get to know me?”
“Yes,” he said simply, though his tone dropped into something quieter, heavier, as he moved closer. “What are you doing tonight?”
Her brows knit together in a mix of surprise and irritation. “You want to get to know me?”
“Yes,” he said again, this time with a faint twitch of his lips, the start of a smile he didn’t quite let loose.
“And you’re willing to become my friend?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.
He shrugged—an easy, careless motion—but the truth was, the idea of friendship with her didn’t feel simple at all.
“If it leads to something more, then yes. I’ll become your friend.
” A soft, incredulous laugh escaped her, and he found himself leaning forward slightly, drawn to the way that sound wrapped around him.
“What’s funny about friendship?” he asked.
Natalie shook her head, folding her arms across her chest, a protective gesture he’d seen before. “You can’t go into a friendship with the sole intention of turning it into… something more. That’s not how it works.”
“Then we’ll do things our own way,” he countered smoothly, stepping closer again until he could see her breathing change. His voice lowered, rich and certain. “And don’t even try to convince me that you don’t want this, Natalie. I can see it in your eyes.”
Her green eyes widened, but she didn’t step back. He reached up, brushing his fingertips along her cheek, letting them trail down the delicate line of her jaw before coming to rest lightly over the steady flutter of her pulse. “And here,” he murmured.
For a moment, she didn’t move. Her breath caught, her body tense as his touch sent heat curling low in her stomach.
“Rylan, we can’t—”
“That’s your brain talking,” he interrupted, his voice silken but edged with command. “Stop thinking and start feeling.”
He eased back a step, giving her space, but his gaze stayed locked on hers. “What are you doing tonight?” he asked again.
Natalie exhaled slowly, trying to steady herself. Her lips pressed into a stubborn line before a flicker of mischief sparked in her eyes. “Tonight is my yoga class.”
“Yoga?” His brows lifted in surprise.
She slung her bag over her shoulder, that glint in her eyes sharpening. “Yes. I can bring a guest. The class starts at six. If you’re serious about getting to know me, you can join me.”
He stared at her, the image of himself twisting into odd positions in a room full of strangers not exactly appealing. “Yoga,” he repeated flatly.
Her smile widened, and she tilted her head, the tease in her tone unmistakable. “It’s great for core strength and flexibility. You might even find it relaxing. Or…” She let the word hang for a beat, her smirk deepening, “…if you don’t think you can handle it…”
His jaw flexed at the challenge in her voice. She knew exactly how to push him, and damn it, he found her wit just as intoxicating as the curve of her mouth.
“I’ll be there,” he growled, stepping close enough that the air between them charged. “Send me the address.”
Her laughter bubbled out, warm and playful. “Great! I’ll bring an extra yoga mat.”
She turned and descended the stairs, her ponytail swaying in rhythm with the confident sway of her hips. He tracked her every step, his jaw tightening as frustration and desire tangled in his chest.
As her SUV pulled away, he muttered under his breath, running a hand over his face. “Yoga.”
His only consolation was that he’d see her again tonight. And maybe—just maybe—he’d finally figure out how to break through her walls and make this infuriating, irresistible woman his.
But first, he’d have to survive a yoga class.
A slow, wicked grin curved his mouth. Oh, she’d pay for this little challenge—pay in ways that would leave her breathless, trembling, and thinking twice before ever daring him again.