by Erin Rylie
Needing to Love You
Copyright © 2019 by Erin Rylie
www.erinryliewrites.com
Editor: Erica Russikoff of Erica Edits
Interior Formatting: Brooke Cumberland
Cover Design: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined Art
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of the book. This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
For my one and only parabati.
Wouldn’t be able to do it without you, chum.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
Coming Next
About the Author
Newsletter
Wanting to Love You Prologue
Prologue
As Kelsey watched the retreating form of her best friend storming across the patio and into the bar, she felt the hammock shift with the considerable weight of Carlos. She was only a little ashamed to admit that she’d blatantly checked him out as they were being introduced. She guessed Carlos was around six feet tall, if not a bit over, and was all solid muscle. He wore dark-wash jeans that hugged his muscular thighs and a light-pink shirt that complemented his tanned skin and showcased his bulging biceps. His shortish black hair was haphazardly finger-combed back, his clear brown eyes twinkling with mischief. The man had a jaw that could cut glass and deliciously full lips that had Kelsey thinking thoughts that a woman in the middle of a divorce had no right thinking.
When Sophie’s small form had disappeared from her view, Kelsey looked over at Carlos. His sinful lips were curved up in a smile, and he had leaned back in the hammock, looking every inch the cat who ate the canary.
“How much are you willing to bet our friends are fucking in the bathroom within the next five minutes?”
A laugh burst from Kelsey’s lips, surprising her; she hadn’t really laughed since she’d left Kyle. The stress of the divorce and custody battle was really wreaking havoc on her emotional state.
“I sure as hell hope that’s what’s happening. Lord knows Sophie could use a good, hard dicking. That girl is wound way too tight right now.”
“Be careful, a woman with a filthy mouth is one of my weaknesses.”
Kelsey hid her smile with her glass as she took another swig of Guinness. “Well, being raised with three brothers definitely impacted my vocabulary.”
Carlos raised a hand to wave a waitress over, ordering a Tecate before turning back to look at her. “Three brothers? Shit, I can’t even imagine what that life must’ve been like.”
“It was definitely…” She paused, searching for the right word. “Interesting. There was never a dull moment. Plus, my brother Dillon is gay and not even a little shy; I’ve probably heard the word cock more than any other.”
Carlos laughed, “I grew up surrounded by Hispanic women. I’ve had to hide my cursing from my overbearing mother for years.”
When the waitress returned with his beer, he gripped the neck of the bottle between his thumb and forefinger, taking a long swig. Kelsey found herself mesmerized by the way the muscles in his throat worked as he swallowed. The long fingers he used to hold the bottle gave her deliciously dirty thoughts that had her blushing and shifting in her seat.
Shit, this man is dangerous.
Looking away before he caught her staring, she continued their conversation. “Overbearing family, huh? That must’ve been rough.”
Carlos sighed, “Yeah my dad passed away when I was a kid so it was just me, my mom, and my aunts. Honestly my mother and I don’t have the best relationship because she was too controlling, too involved. I’m glad she’s in San Antonio now; that shit was exhausting.”
“That sounds miserable. I’m the oldest of my siblings and my parents haven’t always been the most present, so I was always the adult of the house, even as a teenager. Sophie gives me constant shit for mothering her, but I can’t help it. I like to think I’ve gotten better since I had my son though.”
Carlos hummed and took another sip of his beer before answering. “Oh, how old is your son?”
Kelsey couldn’t hold back the wide grin that overtook her face when she thought of James. “He’s three and he’s so damn cute it hurts sometimes. He says the most outrageous things, I swear.”
“If his vocabulary is even a quarter as vulgar as your own, I can only imagine how interesting it must be.”
She laughed, “Living with Sophie doesn’t help either. I think she is intentionally teaching him to say fucked-up shit just to mess with me.”
Carlos looked over and she saw his gaze dip down to her hand, searching for a ring he wouldn’t find. She’d returned her wedding ring to Kyle the night she’d left with James. She still wasn’t used to the naked feeling, and there was still a faint line where her ring had sat for years. “So is it safe to assume you’re single?”
Kelsey rubbed her ring finger absently. “Technically, yes. Legally, no. Divorce is a shitshow,” she laughed.
The mischievous glint had returned to Carlos’s eyes. “I’d like to be a good guy and say that I’m sorry to hear you’re getting divorced, but I don’t like to lie. I’m damn glad you’re single.”
Butterflies took flight in Kelsey’s stomach at his words, and she looked away to hide the blush staining her cheeks. “Did you know that raptors actually had feathers?”
“Um, no? I guess I didn’t know that.”
“Yep, movies always depict them as featherless so few people know that they have them.” She looked up from her beer and took in his confused expression. “Sorry, I tend to blurt out random facts when I get nervous. It’s weird, I know.”
“Hey, all I’m hearing is that I make you nervous.” Carlos leaned in, his warm breath brushing her ear. “Why do I make you nervous, Kelsey?”
Kelsey swallowed and fought the urge to spew off more random facts. She had plenty stored up, including some pretty great ones about World War II. It was her favorite time period, and she studied it for fun.
Too focused on keeping her history knowledge under wraps, she said the first thing that came to mind. “Have you seen you? You look like Mario Lopez and Adam Rodriguez had a tall, muscular child, it’s ridiculous.”
Carlos guffawed, gaining the attention of more than one woman nearby. Kelsey fought the urge to shoot them death glares and focused instead on how damn handsome he looked when he laughed. His personality was infectious, and she felt lighter just being around him. There was something about Carlos that drew people in. He was just so joyful and genuine, his laughs coming easily.
“Shit, you’re good for a m
an’s ego. Maybe I should just skip ahead and ask if we’re going back to your place or mine.”
The image of Carlos’s hands all over her body, stripping her of her clothes, his muscled arms on either side of her head as he worked them both to an orgasm, had Kelsey clenching her thighs to ease the ache there. Needing a moment to think and something to cool her off, she downed the rest of her beer and signaled to the waitress for another.
“You’re too cocky by far. There is no way I’m going home with you tonight. I firmly draw the line at men in pink shirts.”
Carlos nodded sagely. “Understood. We can stay at your place tonight. Also, this shirt is salmon, and I look fucking fantastic in it.”
Kelsey laughed and shook her head, her cheeks hurting from the amount of smiling she’d done in the last thirty minutes. “You’re just decreasing your chances of getting in my pants now.”
“Nah, I’m pretty sure I’m charming those pants right off of you. But I’ll drop it for now. To be revisited.” He threw a wink her way. “So tell me about this divorce. You doing okay?”
She was surprised by the quick change of conversation, but was bolstered by the genuine interest and concern in his eyes. Kelsey was startled to realize he was actually interested in her response. Over the next few hours, they discussed everything: her divorce, her son, his overbearing mother and their strained relationship, their career goals and personal dreams. It was the most honest conversation she’d had in ages.
At the end of the night, when last call had been announced and they’d paid their tabs, Carlos wrapped his arms around Kelsey, giving her a hug and a sweet peck on the cheek before heading toward the cab he’d called. Before she had time to second-guess the decision, Kelsey followed him to the car and got into the backseat with him. She gave the driver her address and turned to look at Carlos. His eyes were wide with surprise, the cocky persona from earlier gone entirely.
Kelsey had never felt more wanton, and embraced it, leaning in to whisper in Carlos’s ear, “Remember? We agreed we’d be going back to my place tonight.”
Chapter One
Everything hurt. Carlos had never known that it was possible for fingernails to ache and throb, but he could swear that his did. Every single inch of his body felt like a throbbing mass of nerves, his head most of all. His fucking head. Never had Carlos felt such excruciating pain. He’d flitted in and out of consciousness for an indeterminate period of time. Though he felt awake, he hadn’t yet been able to focus, to open his eyes or move his limbs. Through the throbbing in his head, he was able to make out the sounds of the room around him. Carlos heard the steady beep of the heart monitor, keeping track of his vitals.
After a few minutes of quiet shuffling, he felt a hand touch his and heard a voice that washed over him like a soothing balm, easing his aches and pains. Carlos couldn’t make out the words being spoken through the ringing in his ears, but he recognized the timbre of her voice and felt himself relax. He hadn’t even realized that he’d been tensing until he’d heard Kelsey’s raspy voice. Though he wanted nothing more than to wake up and hold her, he felt his consciousness begin to fade again, sleep pulling him under.
When he came to once more, he heard tense voices in the room. Though things were still hazy, and his ears were ringing, he made out the distinctive sound of his mother’s voice. Based on the tension evident in her tone, she was arguing with someone. Shit must be bad if his mother had driven in from San Antonio. He opened his bleary eyes, the lids feeling weighted down. Carlos blinked a few times to clear his vision, and was able to make out two forms: his mother and Kelsey. The ringing in his ears wouldn’t quiet long enough for him to make out their words, but based on body language alone, their conversation was not going well.
Carlos opened his mouth to speak, to find out what was happening, and ended up making a garbled sound instead. Shit, he needed some water. The lights in this room were doing nothing to alleviate the pounding in his head.
He tried to speak again, or at least make enough noise to get their attention, but their arguing was only gaining volume, masking the sounds of his own voice. He reached around on the hospital bed, hoping there was a call button for the nurse’s station. He wanted to know what was going on. Why was he still in the hospital? Why did everything fucking hurt? And why was Kelsey here, arguing with his mother?
His fingers brushed something plastic and he grasped the small call button. He pressed down three times, expecting to see a nurse bursting into his room any minute. Instead, he felt the pain in his body slowly dissipate and his consciousness begin to fade. Belatedly, he realized that he’d most likely hit a morphine button. Frustrated, Carlos allowed sleep to drag him under again.
This time, there were no voices to pull Carlos from sleep. Instead, he came to consciousness in a room completely devoid of all sound save the beeping of the heart monitor attached to him. The lights in his room were blessedly off, and the ringing in his ears had begun to subside a bit. Though Carlos still felt disoriented, he finally was able to view the hospital room clearly, and the pain in his head was no longer debilitating. The throbbing pain in his right leg gave him pause, however. Fuck, if his leg was injured how could he go back to work? He needed to speak to a doctor, but it looked to be the middle of the night.
Groaning, he lifted his torso into a sitting position, ignoring the sudden throb in his temples and the sharp protest his leg gave as he moved it. He wasn’t a fucking invalid; he could sit up if he wanted to, injury be damned. Rubbing his temples with his thumbs, and ignoring the pull of the IV in his arm, Carlos looked around the room. In the corner of the dark hospital room, he was able to make out the sleight form of his mother. She appeared to be sleeping on a small cot. He was dying to wake her up and ask what the fuck was going on, but he was sure she needed her rest.
Instead, Carlos reached for the small table next to him, grasping for a cup of water. The plastic yellow cup was pushed to the edge of the damn table, and he was only able to graze the rough surface with his fingertips. Peeking up at his mother’s sleeping form, he again considered waking her—he was really fucking thirsty. He was also a grown ass man, capable of getting himself some damn water.
Carlos leaned his body out of the bed, reaching for the cup and was finally able to grasp it. Before he could pull it to his body, it slipped free of his hand, hitting the tile floor with a loud clatter. His mother immediately stirred, getting off of her cot quickly to see what was going on. She let out an audible gasp when she saw that he was awake, and rushed to his bedside.
Her hand found his cheek immediately, and he could see even in the dark room that she had tears in her eyes. “Mijo, you’re awake,” she said softly.
He wanted to speak, but his throat felt like he’d swallowed a bag of fucking sawdust. He reached toward the water pitcher again, and his mother gently slapped his hand away. He felt the ghost of a smile touch his lips; the woman was going to mother-hen him to death now that he was injured. She was overbearing on a normal day; he couldn’t even begin to imagine how protective she would be now.
He gulped down the cup of water she handed him before motioning for another. Once he’d downed three more refills, he finally felt as though he’d be able to talk. He cleared his throat a few times, handing the cup to his mother before opening his mouth.
“What happened?” he rasped.
His mother shook her head and wiped another tear from her eye. “You were—” her voice cut off and she choked on a sob. Carlos could name on one hand the number of times he’d seen his mom cry. He wanted to lift his arms to comfort her, but was worn out from the simple action of reaching for the drink of water. She took a steadying breath and started again.
“You were in an accident, mijo. You got hit pretty hard by a drunk driver. Because you were hit on the passenger’s side of the car, your head was thrown into the driver’s side window. There was some brain swelling and you have a pretty severe concussion.”
Well, at least that explained the pain in h
is head, the ringing in his ears, and the near constant state of drowsiness. Even now, he felt the pull of sleep threatening to drag him back under. He fought the exhaustion, wanting to stay awake a bit longer.
Carlos began to nod, but stopped almost immediately at the wave of pain that hit him. Fuck, this shit sucks. “Any other injuries? Broken bones or anything?”
His mother swallowed before answering, “You fractured your right femur; it’s going to take some time and physical therapy to heal. You had to have surgery when you were admitted to reposition the bones so that they’re properly aligned. They were also pretty worried you’d have brain damage for a while. Don’t ever put me through that again. I’ll bring you back from the dead and kill you myself.”
He laughed and leaned back in the bed. He knew he couldn’t maintain consciousness for much longer and figured he should at least get comfortable before passing back out. Once he was settled on his back again, his mother tucked him in and placed a kiss on his brow. He was tempted to roll his eyes—the entire situation reminiscent of her tucking him in at night as a child.
He felt his eyes drift closed and had one final thought before sleep claimed him again. He wanted to ask where Kelsey was, and needed to know if she’d been a figment of his drugged-out imagination.
The sound of raised voices woke him up an indeterminate time later, and he opened his eyes, searching for the source of the noise. Carlos was able to make out two figures near the door of his room, but his vision was double and he was struggling to focus on what he saw. He let his head fall back on the pillow and focused instead on listening to the conversation. Almost immediately, he recognized Kelsey’s voice.
