MELT

by Deborah Bladon

  The words haunted me, guiding my voice whenever I was with a man until last night.

  Ryker kissed me when I confessed to him that he made me feel safe.

  "Ryker?" I call out again, louder this time. "Are you in the washroom?"

  Silence is the only response, so I tug the blanket free and wrap it around me like a cocoon.

  I trudge through my apartment, ducking my head in the bathroom before I scan the kitchen. His clothes are gone, just as his phone is.

  I stalk to the window and look down on the street. The sidewalk is covered in a blanket of thick fluffy snow. It's still falling. The white gold is a treasure to New Yorkers like me who wait for those few brief days a year when nature slows the city.

  I stare at the large flakes and the people walking past my building.

  I search for my phone finally finding it at the bottom of my purse. I tug it out and wipe the sleep from my eyes before I call his number.

  It rings again and again until his voicemail finally picks up. I hang up without leaving a message.

  I send him a text message then, asking him where he ran off to. I try to keep the tone light. I type it out three times and delete it twice before I finally send it.

  I cradle the phone in my hands while I wait but there's nothing. Minutes pass, first ten and then fifteen. The silence tempts my curiosity.

  I open the browser on my phone and type in Ryker's name in the search bar.

  His corporate profile at Matiz pops up and his social media accounts. I scroll through those, most of them a tribute to his job and his love of the outdoors. There are pictures of him hiking and fishing last summer. A few of him are with two men his age who must be his friends.

  I'm back to the search function again, and I type in her name. It's just her first name because that's all it takes. Gem.

  Her Instagram page is the first result and as my thumb hovers over the link, my stomach clenches but I click it anyway. I click it because I want the reassurance that her picture won't bother me anymore. I want to know that I can look at her and not feel the twinge of jealousy I used to.

  That's not what I feel when I scan the most recent picture at the top of the page.

  I feel like a fucking idiot.

  Ryker, with a shadow of a beard covering his jaw, is in the very first picture I see. I click on it. It was posted sixteen minutes ago at a diner two blocks from here. He's sitting on a leather bench next to a table with a cup of coffee in front of him, and a container of cream to the side. He's wearing the same black wool coat he was last night and his hair looks exactly as it did before he fell asleep in my arms.

  He's not looking at the camera. His head is tilted slightly; his eyes cast down.

  I read the caption. Once and then again before I leave my phone by the window and walk back to my bedroom, the words Gem posted suffocating me from the inside out.

  My boy is back and our future is bright.

  Chapter 18

  Ryker

  "You didn't post a fucking picture of me, did you?" I seethe. "I told you no pictures, Gem. I meant it."

  She shakes her head. "Calm down, Ry."

  I pick up my phone and immediately open the browser. I search for her name because I've cleared my history of all links to every single social media account she has. I open the first link. "Jesus. 'My boy is back and our future is bright?' That’s bullshit. I'm not back. We don’t have a future. Delete it."

  "I need you, Ryker." She doesn't pick up her goddamn phone to delete the picture of me. "My fan engagement has dropped by thirty percent since I stopped posting about you. People have noticed that you deleted all the pictures of me from your Instagram."

  It was one fucking picture taken at a concert three months ago. I never wanted whatever we had to be official in any capacity. "Take down the goddamn picture, Gem."

  "No." She pushes her phone away from her. "You're ruining things for me, Ryker. You know I'm close to signing a deal for a reality show. The producer will only do it if you're part of it. He wants the friction between us. He says it's good television."

  "I came down here because you texted me forty-five fucking times in the past two days." I tap my finger on the coffee-stained white table between us. "I don’t know how the hell you found out about Cremza but that final text you sent last night was the end of it. If you go there and speak to either of my grandparents, I will ruin you, Gem. I will post pictures of you without all that shit you wear on your face."

  I'm bluffing. If I took a picture of Gem, I usually deleted it within days. I had no reason to save a picture of her. She put enough of herself out into the world that her pictures feel like worthless currency now. If I ever felt the urge to gaze at a picture of her while we were together, I could just go online. I rarely did.

  "You wouldn't," she screeches like I just threatened to lock her up and throw away the key. "That would destroy my career."

  "Career?" I toss the word back with a smirk. "You don't have a career."

  "You've never understood what I do."

  "I never wanted to," I respond calmly. "We were never good for each other, Gem. I need you to take down that picture of me you just posted and I then I want you to fuck off."

  She laughs. "You need to step off the merry-go-round, Ryker. We do this again and again, around and around we go. You know it's just a matter of time before we're back together. Don't prolong this. I want you back today. "

  I study her face. I don't know what I ever saw in her. She's attractive in an abstract way. Brown hair, blue eyes and a body that's been touched by a plastic surgeon or two. I liked her best when she didn’t wear makeup and her phone was out of her hand but once her online profiles caught steam, her obsession with her fan base grew. I was a prop in her picture perfect world. It was never about me after she gained notoriety.

  It was always a shallow escape from what I thought I could never have. I thought Lark was out of my reach so I settled.

  "I'm done with being part of your circus." I pick up her phone. "Delete the picture you posted and the one you sent me this morning that you took of me inside Cremza. I want out of your world, Gem. I'm not playing the game anymore. I'm finished and this time it's for good."

  "If I delete all those pictures, you'll delete the bad ones you took of me?" She takes her phone from me. "I'll leave you alone if you promise to trash the images of me without makeup and the ones you took when I was bloated after that dinner we had in the West Village. I hate that picture. It could wipe out my career just like that if it ever got out."

  I stifle back a laugh. How I was ever attracted to her is beyond me. "You've got yourself a deal, Gem."

  ***

  "Lark?" I almost run right into her as I exit the diner. "What are you doing here?"

  "You weren't in bed when I woke up." She looks past me, her gaze skimming over the windows.

  Gem is still in there, crafting a post about how she dumped my ass for good. I don't give a shit. She can say what she wants about me. I know the truth. If Lark knows, that's all that matters.

  "You were sound asleep so I didn't want to wake you." I adjust the scarf that's around her neck. "You read my note, right? I told you I'd be back within the hour."

  "I didn't see it at first." Her bottom lip trembles. "You left it next to my pillow. I saw it when I walked back into my bedroom after checking my phone."

  "You shouldn't have come out in the cold. It's snowing," I point out the obvious. "You're not dressed very warmly."

  "Did you mean what you wrote in the note?"

  I wrap my arm around her shoulder and guide her to the side of the building. I know she's not talking about the part of the note where I wrote about which diner I was going to meet Gem at so I could put a stop to her constant harassment. Lark is talking about the rest of the note. She's referring to the words I wrote about her. "I meant every word."

  She stops and looks up at me. "Last night was the best night of your life?"

  "Until tonight when you let me s
tay with you again." I rub the tip of her reddened nose. "Then tomorrow night will be better and the next night will be the best."

  "You called me your Christmas angel in the note." Her eyes well with tears. "Is that what I am?"

  "You're my everyday angel. I want to spend every day with you, Lark. Today, tomorrow, New Year's Eve. All of next year. All of it."

  "It's fast. You just broke up with her last week."

  "My heart was never attached to her," I say honestly. "I've felt more in the past few days than I've ever felt in my life."

  "Me too." She sighs. "We'll take it slow, right? These things need time to grow. We can't rush this. I don't want this to crash and burn."

  "We won't crash and burn. This right here is just the beginning of us."

  Chapter 19

  7 Weeks Later

  Ryker

  "I'm proud of you, Ryker. I think you're doing the right thing."

  "Is that excitement I hear in your voice, Lark?" I look down at her. "You want my job while I'm gone, don't you? Is that why you blew my mind this morning?"

  "I blew your dick." She nods, her lips pursing. "I did it because I like you, not because I want your job. Besides, Crew is too controlling to let you pick who covers for you. He'll make that decision himself."

  She's right. Her brother is the man with the plan. I spoke to him this morning about my need to take a leave of absence to get things in order at Cremza. I expect to be gone for six weeks while I help my grandparents hire someone to take over the everyday duties of managing the business. I'll still have the upper hand when it comes to all decisions and I'll keep a close eye on things once I'm back at Matiz, but I need to devote time to helping them transition into being semi-retired. It's a decision they made in early January when they realized that there are things they want to do but haven't had the time for.

  "You'd make an excellent replacement." I tease her bottom lip with the pad of my thumb. It's the same lip that held the last lingering drops of my release after I'd come down her throat this morning. I didn't expect it, never imagined that she'd blow me in the kitchen of my apartment after we'd shared a bowl of cereal together.

  The orgasm was fulfilling, the sounds she made after I picked her up, knocked the bowl into the skin and then ate her out was my heaven. She's given in and opened up. She no longer hears the words of her first piece of shit boyfriend who didn't understand that the cries of a woman under your touch are the fuel most men crave. He was a bastard who took something from her but she's taken it back now. She's free to be herself.

  She's given me more these past six weeks than any man deserves.

  "It's Valentine's Day tomorrow. What do you want to do?" She has a half-assed grin on her face. "Do you even do Valentine's Day? You seem like you would."

  "I don't," I answer truthfully. I've never been one of those guys who trudge down to the store to pick up a heart-shaped box of chocolates or a greeting card with a generic message. I've never done anything for any woman on that day. If I had, it would have been epic. It will be epic this year.

  Disappointment wells in her eyes, but her expression holds firm. She's never asked me for a thing since we started seeing each other. Our connection has grown at its own pace. I'm falling in love with her, not just because of who she is when we're alone together but because of the incredible person she is at the office. She holds her own, every single day.

  She didn't expect Crew or me to clean up the mess Christine made in the office.

  Once the holiday break was over, Lark called a meeting. She explained what everyone had overheard Christine saying and then she told them that we were involved. She was straightforward when she backed it up with a promise to keep everything personal outside of the office. She's done that. I've treated her as much like every other employee as I can. I haven’t granted her any special treatment. I've given her the task of heading the marketing campaign for a new women's fragrance we're launching in the fall. Her ideas are brilliant, and her talent is undeniable. She wants to be a part of the team and I'm the captain for now. That may change one day, but we both respect the job when we're at the office. Matiz comes first until we're alone.

  She'll contribute to the holiday campaign, but she won't take the lead this year. She's good with that. She understands that I need her to focus more fully on the fragrance and she's eager to head the launch.

  "Maybe we can order in pizza?" she asks dejectedly. "Or something else. We'll see what we feel like having tomorrow night."

  "I'll be at Cremza until late tomorrow night, Lark. If you want to drop by, I'll buy you a scoop of your favorite for Valentine's Day."

  She looks at me like I'm a fucking jerk. Who invites their girlfriend to an ice cream shop for a free scoop on the most romantic day of the year?

  "You don't pay for the ice cream there," she points out. "I guess I can come by for a few minutes after work."

  "I'll be waiting for you," I say as I pull her close to me, hoping she can't hear how hard my heart is beating. I will be waiting for her with a gift I had made just for her.

  Chapter 20

  Ryker

  I wanted to make love to her last night, but she blew me off and not in a good way. She went to bed early when Nathan called to check in. He's the only person I've told about the surprise I have planned for Lark. I needed his opinion, and I got it. He approved. He told me I was making him proud so I took that as a sign to go full steam ahead.

  I left her apartment before her this morning. I kissed her tenderly and wished her a great day. She had pouted with that fucking adorable mouth of hers before she told me she wanted me to have a fantastic Valentine's Day. I smacked her ass and wished her the same and then left as her mouth was hanging wide open.

  Now, I'm standing at the door of Cremza and looking out onto the street. Cars pass by. People dodge each other as they scramble to get where they're going on the sidewalk. Everyone has a place they need to be. I know where my place is. It's with Lark.

  I see her as she crosses against the light. Her hand in the air as if that will yield off any traffic racing toward her. She's dressed in that black wool coat she's always wearing and red mittens, a red scarf and there's the hint of a red dress swaying around her legs as she walks.

  I open the door as she nears.

  "Ryker." She stares me down. Her eyes run over the charcoal sweater and black pants I'm wearing. "You look extra nice. You usually wear jeans and a T-shirt when you're here."

  I do, but not today.

  "Come inside." I tug on her hand. "It's cold outside."

  She steps over the threshold of the door and freezes in place. "What is this? What's going on?"

  "Take off your coat."

  She does. She slips each button from its hole before I help slide it from her shoulders. I fold it carefully and place it on the back of a chair. Then I turn and lock the door.

  "You did this for me, Ryker? This is all for me?"

  It's nothing. A few white lights strung from the ceiling, soft music, a fuck ton of white and red roses in those glass jars she loves. There's an envelope too and a gift wrapped in red paper.

  "Happy Valentine's Day, baby." I rest my cheek against hers as I embrace her from behind. "This is my first Valentine's Day so be gentle."

  "I got you something." She spins around quickly, her hands darting to my shoulders. "I got you a gift. It's not extravagant because we hadn't talked about Valentine's Day, so I wasn't sure if a gift was a good idea."

  "Do you have it with you? Show me."

  "Someone's eager." She laughs as she points at her purse. "I wrapped it after you left this morning. It's in there."

  I arch my brow. "Can I open it?"

  "Yes," she says patiently, leaning forward to sweep her lips along the stubble that's settled over my jawline. "This is the perfect place for you to open it. We've been coming here together so often since Christmas. I love it here. I love talking to your grandparents and your mom when she's in town. I know I always tell you b
ut I'll never forget New Year's Eve. Seeing your grandparents watching the ball drop was an experience I'll remember for the rest of my life. They both mean a lot to me."

  She means a lot to them too. It was her idea to invite my grandparents to the hotel her family owns on New Year's Eve. Both my grandparents had tears in their eyes when they stood by the window and watched the ball drop. It was a bird's eye view of the city they love celebrating a new beginning. Lark had opened one of the windows just enough let the sounds in, but keep the cold out. We toasted with cider at midnight and as my granddad kissed my grandmother, I kissed Lark. It was a night I'll never forget either.

  I open her bag and spot the gift right away. It's a rectangular box wrapped in white paper with a red ribbon and bow. "Do you want to open your gift first, baby?"

  "No." She shakes her head. "I'm so nervous, Ryker. Please just open it."

  I do. I rip it open quickly, the paper flying in the air, ribbon dangling from my fingers. I pull the lid off the box and smile immediately. Fuck. Just fuck. This woman is everything.

  "Nellie told me that when you used to work here when you were a teenager that you insisted on having your own ice cream scoop. She said you wouldn't let anyone else touch it. You carved your name in the handle."

  Her red-tipped fingernail runs over the smooth wood of the handle of the ice cream scoop and my name etched out by my own teenage hand in uneven lettering.

  "Where did you get this, Lark?"

  She looks up at me, her gray eyes locked on my face. "Your grandmother kept it in a box in the back. When she told me the story about the scoop on New Year's Eve, I asked if she still had it. Last week I asked one of the drivers that Crew uses to pick me up so I could pick up Nellie and bring her here. We spent a couple of hours in the back going through the boxes until I found it."

  She did that for me? She dug into my past to find something that no one would see as meaningful but me. The scoop was part of my identity here. It was a symbol of the hard work and dedication that my grandparents instilled in me. I thought it was gone. I'd broken the handle one afternoon and the next day when I went to pick up the scoop from the drawer behind the counter it was gone. "Where was I when you two were on this treasure hunt?"