Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 31838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
But I never found out. Instead, Ryder made an appearance earlier this week, barely meeting my eyes as he stomped in through the front door. At least he’s staying at the house again, although we barely interact now. Instead, all he does when he comes home after work is shower, change clothes, and leave. And he doesn’t return until the early hours of the morning before going straight to his bedroom and shutting his door. Then, a few hours later he’s up and heads out to work without a word. The whole cycle is bewildering, and I have no idea what to think. This is his house, so if anything, he should be asking me to leave. Yet, he’s avoiding me like I have the plague, and it’s strange.
I suppose it’s not that weird, seeing that he came all over my leg that illicit night. But I liked it, and I think Ryder could tell since my pussy was gleaming and open, practically begging for his dick. So why the reticence now? What’s wrong?
I have tried to speak with Ryder, or at least, at first, I “accidentally on purpose” bumped into him once in the hallway after he came home from work one evening. But he wouldn’t look at me. In fact, I even asked straight out if he’d like me to vacate the premises, but his dark head immediately jerked up, those blue eyes burning. It was accompanied by a barked, “No!” which made me jump, and that was that. I’m staying.
Yet, nothing’s changed. He comes home to shower after work, and then heads out again to who-knows-where until the wee hours of the morning. I miss interacting with the handsome male, and can’t help but feel a little bit unsettled because where is he going all night? Is he seeing other women? Oh god, I would die but I know I have no claim on Ryder. He is, for all intents and purposes, just a stranger who’s trying to do the right thing by helping a pregnant girl in need. A neighbor who I am absolutely and completely and insanely attracted to. And who came to my bed one night and asked to see my pussy so he could stroke himself and come all over my thigh.
But these are just details, and we’ve never spoken about the incident. He’s not my boyfriend, and I’m not his girlfriend. I have no right to be jealous.
And yet, I am.
So now, after another week of avoidance, I’ve decided to do something about it. I can’t stay at home all day, wondering what Ryder’s up to while burning up with jealousy on the inside. I need to know what he’s getting up to. I deserve to know. As a result, I’ve decided to follow him on his one of his little escapades, and I’m doing it tonight.
At the moment, I’m waiting in the backseat of an Uber parked halfway down the street from the house. Obviously, the driver thinks I’m crazy because I’m clearly stalking someone. But ah, here’s Ryder now. The handsome alpha male leaves the cottage, dressed in a button down and dark pants. He looks gorgeous, his hair freshly wet from a shower, and I duck behind the front seat while hissing to the driver, “It’s him! Follow that guy wherever he goes.”
The old man merely snorts and shrugs, but what does he care? He starts the car and begins to trail Ryder’s sedan, following at a discreet distance of course. The chase doesn’t go on for long because soon, we’ve departed the burbs and approached the city center. Then, Ryder pulls up to a massive garage, and hands his keys to an attendant before striding off.
“Here’s fine,” I say in a rush to my driver. Then I scramble out without a goodbye, intent on stalking my handsome host. But if my plan’s going to work, I need to hurry because Ryder’s immense figure is already several blocks down the long street, disappearing fast.
I scurry along as quick as possible while still keeping a distance, but it’s not enough. I see Ryder turn left into a building, but from this vantage point, I can’t see which one. Squinting, I try to find a nearby landmark as a reference point, and thank god, there’s a large statue where Ryder took a left. There.
But as I approach the bronze memorial, my steps slow because I see that the handsome man’s entered an imposing granite building called the Hotel Royale. Then immediately I duck, because on the other side of the glass doors, Ryder stands in the gilded lobby. Thankfully, he doesn’t see me because he’s looking at something on his phone before heading to the elevators. Then, he steps into the golden box and disappears. Rushing into the lobby like a madman, I see that the elevator stops at the penthouse floor, and looking around, discreetly press the call button then. Thank god, no one seems to notice or care.