Mission Love

Twenty

Recap: Ryan's taking me somewhere?

The elevator dinged open, and Ryan strode out confidently, as always, leading the way. I trudged after him, fiddling with my bag strap, until we stopped abruptly.

My jaw? It officially lost its hinges.

Standing before us was a cherry-red Ferrari. Not just any Ferrari-this one looked like it had been plucked straight from a luxury car commercial. My eyes widened as Ryan casually unlocked it with a beep, its scissor doors soaring skyward like wings preparing for takeoff. Wings!

"Another beautiful car?" I managed to ask, climbing into the passenger seat. The rich musky scent hit me like a velvet hammer. The seats, the dash, the glinting gear shift-it was all so shiny.

Ryan slid into the driver's seat, looking entirely too smug for someone who owned such a dangerous beauty.

"I guess I'll have to sit on its hood too," I said with a small laugh, the memory of perching on his Porsche last time making me bite back a grin.

Ryan shot me a sharp look, his fingers pausing momentarily on the steering wheel.

"No," he said, firmly.

"Wow, so quick to deny my kind, selfless offer." I raised an eyebrow. Shit! Did I scratched his Porsche when I sat on it last time? If I did... Oh no.

Does the witness protection program accept accidental car scratchers? Asking for a friend.

"It's not that," he said, glancing at me briefly before shifting the car into drive.

"Really? Then what? Afraid I'll scratch this one too?" I asked, testing-the-waters.

His lips curled into a smirk that screamed trouble.
"Quite the opposite."

My brain stopped. My entire brain just stopped its activities, pondering upon his words.

Opposite?
What does that even mean?
Was he suggesting the car would scratch me?
Or worse... was he collecting evidence against me?

Stop! Stop overthinking, every goddamn thing.

"Can you at least tell me where we're going?" I finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Sure," he said, his smirk widening as his foot pressed down on the accelerator.

I clutched the sides of my seat as we zoomed onto the road like we were escaping a crime scene.

"Ryan, I swear, if I die, I'm gonna haunt you," I muttered, gripping tighter.

His only response was a low chuckle. Great. Just great.

______

The car slid to a stop in front of a boutique so pristine and glossy, I felt underdressed just looking at it. The black-and-gold letters gleamed under the sunlight, and the oversized glass doors were flanked by two perfectly trimmed topiaries.

"Why are we here?",I asked, hesitating as Ryan stepped out of the car. The glossy windows practically screamed 'If you have to ask the price, you can't afford it.'

He came around to my side and opened the door for me.

"You'll see," he said with a maddening smirk.

I reluctantly got out, my shoes clicking against the polished stone walkway.

"If this is another one of your billionaire flexes, I'm not impressed."

"Who said I was trying to impress you?" he shot back, gesturing toward the entrance.