“I’m…worried about you, Ind. I was worrying about you the whole game.” Her lips lift mischievously, her tone teasing. “Ryan Shay, do you care about me?” “No.” “You care about me.” “No, I don’t, but I’d rather you not get kidnapped while I’m playing a fucking basketball game.” She moves her shoulders, dancing around the island. “Ryan Shay cares about me!” “You’re annoying.” Her hands go to her knees, and she sticks her ass out, twerking in my kitchen. “Yeah, but you still care about me.”
