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“Ry, I’m heading to Michael’s.” Sitting on the couch with a book in his hands and his feet propped on the coffee table, Ryan stiffens before slowly lowering his book to his lap. “Say that again for me.” “I’m heading to Michael’s.” “And who the fuck is Michael?” Huh? As realization hits me, I try my hardest not to laugh. Jealous Ryan is hot, so I’ll let this play out before admitting that Michael’s is the craft store where I buy my embroidery thread to cross-stitch. “Don’t worry about it.”
His brows rocket up towards his hairline. “Oh, don’t worry about it? Okay then.” “You don’t get to tell me what to do unless we're both naked.” He lifts his book again, refocusing his attention on the pages. “Have fun, but just know that you’re responsible for whatever happens to Michael tonight. In fact…” He eases into the couch as if he’s casually unaffected. “It’ll give me something to do later.” It’s then that I double over in laughter. “You’re insane.”
“Michael’s is a craft store, you psychopath.”
“Would you like to come with me so you can confront Michael while I pick up a new embroidery hoop and needles?”
“You haven’t been reading much lately.” I pop my shoulders. “Well, that’s because I don’t feel the need to live in someone else’s reality. I enjoy my own far too much these days.”
His quiet love. It’s always the loudest.

