Capture Me

Who's That Blonde?

Thalia

What just happened? I was ready to leave, and then I was not? Ryder didn't even look behind to see if I was following, but I did.

I took slow steps up the stairs and met Ryder going back down. Huh?

He must've seen my confused face so he stopped a step down from me. "I'm gonna cook us breakfast."

Cook breakfast with that? My eyes roamed involuntarily down his naked chest to his abs, and then slid to his checkered boxers.

"You like?" He sounded, making my eyes bounce back to his. The mischief in them were evident.

I didn't answer him and continued upstairs. The heat on my face intensified when I heard his chuckle. Jerk.

I entered Ryder's room and stared at the white ceiling, unmoving. I seriously need to get out of here, I mean being with Ryder affected my decisions and my space was reduced to a non-existent because he was crowding giant flesh of virile–he was a crowding giant. Period.

I have to contact my team soon. I have to let them know what happened. But do I want to compromise Ryder's identity?

I have to figure out how, though.

I wrapped the towel tighter around my body and started looking for my dress on the floor, in the bathroom, in the closet, but then I remembered Ryder telling me that he burned my freaking dress.

Frustration and anger started to build. I wanted to screech his name until lightning struck him!

"God!" I ran my fingers through my hair. Who does that? Ryder, enough said.

Huffing and puffing, I went to his walk-in closet once more and grabbed a tee and pulled a checkered blue boxer-shorts in one of the drawers. I found that my undergarment from last night was washed and folded neatly on top of one of Ryder's shirts, so I took off his boxers and wore my panties first.

I went next to his bathroom, squeezed toothpaste on my index finger and brushed my teeth with it. I didn't bother rummaging for a spare toothbrush. After, I washed my face.

Seeing my reflection in the mirror, I couldn't help but wonder if there was the old me still. The one who cried whenever hurtful words were flung at her. The one who left her family to marry a man they didn't like and never contacted them since. The one who was so in love with her husband.

I sighed. I found it hard to believe what Ryder had said last night.

A high-profile criminal pretended to be a stripper?

Was Terry's beating really connected with the case Ryder handled?

Sighing again, I went out. What never changed was Ryder's pull on me, it was still strong, if not stronger. Maybe, I did love him still after all.

"Why, in the love of all that's holy did you burn my dress?" I whispered to myself as I go down the stairs but stopped short when I saw a blonde in pink yoga pants and a tank with spilling huge boobs enter the front door and went directly into the kitchen.

I frowned, several thoughts running in my head, the loudest one; Ryder cheating right after he slept in the same bed as me.

Jealous? Why would I feel jealous?

I went to the kitchen dragging a foot and then the other.

Just a few steps and I could already hear the blonde's irritating high pitched voice. The house was big-like huge big-so her undesirable voice echoes.

"...wow, you're a beast at making pancakes!" She said sounding really amazed and flirty at the same time. Gah! Was that a complement on Ryder's cooking or on something else?

My husband, just hmm-ed.

Just hmm-ed.

Was he agreeing to what she said? But on what ground, the cooking? Or the something else?

I frowned. It felt like the cheating incident was happening all over again, then a thought crossed my mind. I could leave now that he was distracted. I was sure he would not even notice my absence with two huge watermelons dangling in his face. Gosh, just the thought of it irritates me so much! The door to freedom was just a few steps away, but I didn't know what possessed me to run back into Ryder's room and take off his boxer-shorts that I borrowed, then went back downstairs, onward to the kitchen. Leaving me in only his large, red shirt that went down to the middle of my thighs and my panties.

"...it has been broken for days and the plumber I called said that he isn't free until next week. So, I was wondering if you could fix it for me."

Oh yeah, really? That old pipe-plumber-thingy line? Right.

Let's show this harpy what off-limits means, said a voice in my head as I trudged further in the kitchen.