Page 59 of Rekindle My Heart

“Well, yeah but…” He picked up the game case, and his cheek twitched. “I play this one. What’s your handle?”

Her gaze to the beige carpet, and a sexy shade of rose crossed her cheeks.

Why was she…? What were the odds that they couldn’t have played together? The facts circled in his mind. She played. He played. But he’d know it was her. Wouldn’t he?

“Let me guess.” Ryan tapped his finger to his lip. “Are you any good? Scratch that. Of course, you are.” He moved around the room looking at the top-of-the-line setup. “Why two chairs?”

“One’s for Karma.” Hearing his name, the dog moseyed in and curled up in one of the gaming chairs.

Karma. Karma? KarFire89. No. She couldn’t be. The zip of recognition in his spine and the way she bit her lip confirmed it. Fuck. “You’re KarFire89.”

“Got it in one, BadgeBoy00.” She leaned on the chair. “With your concussion, I don’t think gaming would be wise tonight.”

“Probably not.” Damn. He couldn’t help but stare. She avoided him for years, but they played online every week all this time. “Why? I mean, did you know it was me?”

“Not at first. But I figured it out pretty quickly.” Erica wound the hem of her shirt around her fingers. “Let me show you to the spare bedroom.”

“Across the hall, right?” He motioned with his thumb over his shoulder but didn’t move. Four feet. That’s all that stood between them. Four feet of air that smelled of lavender and sweat and something that was definitely all Erica.

He swayed as he inhaled.

“I think you need to get to bed.” She reached out to steady him.

For sure, but what he had in mind wasn’t on the agenda with a concussion.

“I’m good.” He stepped back into the hall. The stark light from the overhead fixture should have washed her out. But the shadows it cast brought out the angles in her face, planes his fingers itched to trace.

“Goodnight.” She stepped back, changing the picture he was painting in his mind. It was just as beautiful but different. This version of Erica radiated longing, guilt, and… regret.

He ducked his head and opened the bedroom door. Before he entered, he whispered, “Erica.”

She paused. Waiting.

“Thank you.”

She nodded, then closed her door.

Ryan flipped on the light. He squinted at the bright, cheery room. The rest of Erica’s house was decorated in neutral tones with pops of brighter colors.

Not here. The walls reminded him of the sunshine on a bright April day, which complimented the sky-blue bedspread and curtains. A white, wrought iron, queen bed sat in the middle of the room flanked by white nightstands. Colorful pillows, a dozen of them, littered the bed.

“Fuck. Me. It’s a girlie-pit from hell.” Good thing he’d have his eyes closed in this room.

Ryan set his phone, wallet, and sidearm on the nightstand and shook his head. He’d never have expected Erica to have an uber-feminine guest room.

Damn it. Now he wondered what her bedroom looked like. He yanked his shirt free from his pants and pulled it off over his head. Throwing it on the one wooden chair, he stepped on one sock to remove it, then the other.

The matching white dresser held several photos, all in different frames. He stepped closer.

A soft rap of knuckles sounded a second before the door opened.

“Hey—” Erica popped her head in. Her long hair flowed freely. Her cheeks pinked to a complimentary color, and her eyes dropped away from his.

Ryan instinctively puffed his chest as her gaze traveled the length of him, lingering on his exposed skin for a beat too long before moving down to his bare feet.

“Yeeeesss.” He drew out the word. He couldn’t help but smirk at her obvious perusal of his body. Did she like what she saw? God, he hoped so.

Her eyes heated, and that pink tongue made an appearance to wet her lips.