Chapter 10

“And you like garlic bread? I don’t need to serve it if you don’t like it.”

“Love it. Bad breath and all,” he joked, earning a tentative smile from Ryan.

“Um, well, it’s ready if you’re hungry, or it can sit if you’re not.”

Hollis must be getting used to this, because he didn’t roll his eyes. “Ryan?”

“Yes?”

“You have to breathe, okay? I came over for dinner, I’m sure it’s going to be great.”

Ryan’s cheeks flushed, but he nodded and led Hollis toward the kitchen with a jerk of his head.

The house was nice. Clean—very clean—and a bit more organized than Hollis’s apartment, but it didn’t feel like a museum, either. The leather couch was worn on the corners, had a dent where Ryan obviously preferred to sit, had a colorful afghan folded across the back, the spangle of blues and greens a sharp contrast to the dark leather.