Mission Love - Chasing Mr. Right ✓

Thirty-Seven

Recap: My parents changed their sides.

I should’ve just done my job properly.

That was my first thought as I dragged myself back to the guest room, regretting my earlier decision to lazily point Ryan in the general direction and call it a day. I had assumed he could figure it out himself.

But here I was again.

With a sigh, I pushed the door open—only to freeze in the doorway.

What. The. Hell.

The guest room was... different. Not the basic, neatly arranged space I remembered, but something straight out of a luxury hotel. The pillows were perfectly fluffed, the bedsheet was folded with crisp precision, and a soft glow from the bedside lamp made everything look way too cozy.

I blinked. Then blinked again.

Ryan, meanwhile, looked like he belonged here. He was perched on the edge of the bed, one ankle propped over his knee, leisurely scrolling on his phone.

He glanced up at me and smiled.

"Wow!" I exclaimed, genuinely surprised at the level of preparation my parents had done.

"What?"

"You look comfortable." My eyes narrowed as I took in the setup—the perfectly made bed, the extra pillows that weren’t usually there, and even a neatly folded towel at the foot of the bed. My gaze flicked back to him, lounging like he’d lived here for years. "Sooo comfortable."

Ryan smirked, stretching his legs out. "I am comfortable."

My eyes twitched. "Who did you bribe?"

Ryan took his sweet time answering, enjoying my growing horror.
"No one. Why would I bribe anyone?"

"Because.. I don't exactly remember my parents doing something like this for a guest."

"Maybe they just like me." He shrugged nonchalantly.

Yeah! How can I forget that he's the soon to be son in law.. according to my parents.

I mentally rolled my eyes before I pushed off the doorframe and stepped inside, the tray balanced behind me. "Anyway, I brought you something."

Ryan’s gaze flicked to the ceramic cup on the tray, steam curling lazily into the air. His brows drew together.
"Is that… tea?"

I lowered the tray onto the nightstand, hiding a smirk."Sure is."

His fingers hovered near the handle before he finally picked it up. The cup barely touched his lips before he took the smallest sip—then stilled.

A slow blink. A barely—there twitch in his jaw. His grip on the handle tightened ever so slightly before he set the cup down, carefully, deliberately, like it personally offended him.

I pressed my lips together, biting back a smile. "How is it?"

Ryan’s gaze lifted, sharp and assessing. His head tilted just slightly, his mouth pressing into a thin line before he spoke.
"Since you made it, I’ll drink it."

I mirrored his head tilt, my grin growing. "Technically, I just delivered it."

A long exhale and then he dragged a hand down his face, rubbing his temple, fingers momentarily pressing at his brow like he was reconsidering his entire existence. Yeah! Suffer.

"You know I prefer coffee." His voice was flat, but his eyes held a quiet accusation.

"Of course."

"And you still brought me tea."