Where Souls Spoil (Bayonet Scars Series, Volume I) (Bayonet Scars #1-4.5)

“And you’re a horrible fucking patient. If you can promise me you’re not going to get up and start moving around like you just did, I’ll promise to leave you and Nic alone for the entire fucking hour you put the request in for,” he says. Carefully, I climb back into my spot and watch as Ryan pulls the covers up over me.

“And you just have horrible patience,” I say and fold my arms over my chest. He’s just grouchy because when I mentioned the idea of spending time alone with Nic he shot it down, telling me no way in hell was he leaving his room. Which is another thing. Since I’m not ready to move out and he’s not ready to leave me alone—and to be honest, I’m not ready to be left alone, either—he’s taking over my room. After he fixed up the mess my father’s men had made when they grabbed me out of bed, he then told me the room wasn’t working for him. The next day when I was sleeping, he took down my photographs of the pretty flowers that are out by the barn and replaced them with two posters of half-naked women draped over Harleys. I had to stare at those stupid bimbos for four days before I was able to yank them down, rip them up, and throw them in the trash. I can’t say he was happy when he found them, but I wasn’t exactly happy when he took my photographs down, either. As of right now, we’re at a decorating stalemate.

He just glares at me as he walks over to my—our—closet and pulls out a clean black tee shirt that my mom hung up there this morning. He’s grumbled a few times about being back in his parents’ house, but with all the attention he’s getting, I think he secretly loves it. When he’s not in here with me, he’s in the kitchen with my mom, and when he’s not in there—his words, not mine—he’s “taking a shit.”

“Come here,” I say as kindly as I can, but his expression doesn’t change.

“Why? So you can tell me how much I suck up close and personal?”

“Shut up and get over here,” I snap. I should know by now that being sweet doesn’t work as well as being bitchy does. For some strange, twisted reason, he responds to bitchy. He walks over and sits at the edge of the bed, scowling down at me.

I give him my best smile, bat my eyes, and say, “Say it again.”

“Uh uh,” he says, shaking his head. He moves to stand, but I put a hand over my ribs and let out a soft moan. His eyes dart down to my hand, and he covers it with his own. His eyes are pained as he looks to make sure there’s no additional bruising and the swelling’s gone down. “What’s wrong?”

“You pain me,” I say with a pout. It’s really unfair to pretend to be hurt to get my way, but if he’s going to act like a child, so am I. I tried being the mature one in this relationship and all it got me was bimbos on my wall.

“That’s really not fucking funny,” he gripes and pulls back. I catch his face in my hands and pull him down to me, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Come on, baby. Please,” I whisper. His body drops to the bed, and I know I’ve won.

“Scoot over,” he says, and I do. I move over another foot so he can stretch out beside me. I wiggle down the bed and turn to face him. He huffs and then purses his lips. When he’s done fighting it, he smiles down at me and cups my face with one hand and pulls me flush against him with another. With his breath washing over my face and his arms around me, I almost rethink asking Nic to come over. Maybe Ryan’s right and I don’t want to spend an hour away from him. But I need girl time, I remind myself. I want to keep Nic as a friend, and that means letting her in—especially since word around the house is that Duke’s been sleeping in her bed almost every night—and O.M.G.— that’s something I have to talk to her about.

“I love you,” he says and kisses the ridge of my brow. “I love you,” and this time it’s a kiss to my closed left eye. “I love you,” and it’s a kiss to my cheek. More kisses follow all with more “I love you’s,” and I melt into him. I don’t let him see me wince when his lips trail over one of the bruises that hasn’t healed yet. My stomach flutters, and I lose my breath for a single second. It never lasts as long as I’d like for it to, but it’s worth all the begging and pleading I have to do in order to get my way. Because there’s nothing on this planet like hearing Ryan say he loves me. There’s nothing that comes close to him showing me that he loves me with every annoying question and every moment he spends hovering over me. When he’s done, there’s a smile on his face that tells me that he enjoys that almost as much as I do.

“I love you,” I say and place a kiss on his lips that slowly turns to something more carnal than I had intended for it to. I don’t hear my bedroom door as it opens, but I do hear the throat clearing that makes me pull back from the kiss. Ryan’s head shoots to the door, and he glares at Nic, who’s standing there in front of Duke. Her nose is turned up, and she’s shaking her head.