by Sophia Ryan
"So you think you have to choose? Me or college? There can't be a middle ground where you can fit both of us into your life?"
"Yeah, well, that's what I tried to convince myself. But, seeing you with other guys is a million times more derailing than being with you ever would be. Every time I think of some guy touching you, making love to you—hell, just looking at you in that way—I go crazy. Seeing you with Luke tonight made me realize that I've got to be with you."
"Why?"
"Why? Why? Why? You sure ask a lot of questions. I thought you smart, rich girls had all the answers."
"We do . . . I just want to hear you say it."
He wrapped his arms around my waist and drew me hard against him, and captured my eyes with his so intently I thought they'd swallow me.
"In high school I told you that you needed to take risks to get what you needed to make you happy. Now I'm taking my own advice. I love you, Angel. I want us to be together and I'm willing to take the risks to make it happen. My future without you in it wouldn't be a very happy one. I want to go for it all."
"Nick, you're not going to fail—at school, our relationship, or at anything else you want. Maybe I didn't have a lot of faith in you or in us when we were in high school, but I do now. It's not because you've changed that much; it's because I have. I judged you by external things when all along I knew what kind of person you were inside. Mr. Wilson once accused me of not having standards because I was with you instead of Sean. I told him that Sean was mean to me, drank too much, was a jerk, and hit me, while you were good to me, kind, thoughtful, loving, decent, and made me happy. I asked him how, based on the facts, he could judge Sean as better boyfriend material. I told him I deserved someone as wonderful as you."
When I stopped talking, I realized tears were rolling down my cheeks. Nick was gently brushing them away with his thumbs.
"What I wouldn't have given to hear you say that in high school."
I reached out to caress his face, trying to rub away the hurt I read in his eyes. "I should have. I'm sorry I didn't. But I'm saying it now. There's something else I should have said out loud a long time ago." I cupped his face in my palms. "I love you, Nick," and kissed his right eye. "I love you, Nick," I said, and kissed his left eye. "I love you, Nick." I kissed his mouth.
"Ah, my sweet, Angel," he murmured. "I love you, too. So much." Then he kissed me again, and again. "I asked you a question the first night I met you, and I didn't like the answer you gave me, so I'm asking you again. Come home with me tonight. Let me spend the rest of the night making love to you."
My voice and head groggy with love and desire, I gave him the answer we both wanted. "Absolutely."
He leaned in to kiss me again, but I moved back. "Before you take me to your bed, bad boy, I should warn you—you better still have your switchblade 'cause you're going to need it to cut this pink monstrosity off of me." I held up layers of pink fluff.
He grinned that crooked little smile I loved so much and patted his coat pocket.
"Not a problem."
Hand in hand, we headed toward his bike, but then he stopped and pulled me around to face him.
"Before we go, there's something I have to do."
"What?"
He bowed. "May I have this dance?"
His romantic gesture touched me in a way nothing ever had before, and my heart swelled so full with love I couldn't speak.
"This is our prom, after all."
I curtseyed, went into his arms, and danced my very first dance with the man I loved.
* * * * *
Several years have passed since that night. We call it our night of awakening.
Nick and I are still working at our relationship and our education. We live together in a little apartment off campus. We eat a lot of ramen noodles. Steak—our favorite food—
is a once-a-month luxury, and it doesn't come with merlot sauce and English Stilton slivers. We're poor, but that's only until we finish school; he's a semester away from finishing grad school, and I'm not far behind. We're in love, and we're happy, and that's forever.
Like all couples, we've had our challenges. Nick can sometimes be stubborn. OK, both of us can be. My parents still can't understand my choice in Nick. It doesn't seem to make a difference to them that I'm happy. Truly happy. But then, it's my choice and not theirs. So, whatever. His mom is less critical of our relationship, but she has it in her head that I'm holding him back. She's worried I'm going to get pregnant and ruin his life. But mainly, she's terrified I'll leave him.
Whatever life tosses our way, we deal with it together. The tie that binds us has been stretched thin, and even broken in places. But before it could twirl off in opposite directions, we grabbed both ends and tied them together to give us a sturdy holding place to grasp.
The one never-changing truth in our lives is that the love we have for each other is real and precious and worth fighting for. The plan hasn't failed us yet.
~The End~
About the Author
Sophia Ryan's life as a writer in the corporate world pays the bills but doesn't scratch her creative itch. What does scratch that itch is capturing the stories that arise from her heart.
After selling over a dozen romances to the confessions magazines, she started writing books. Her first was an erotic e-romance under the name Toni Zuma called Hot Summer Fling. In The Bad Boy's Bed, written as Sophia Ryan, is her first young adult novel. She's also writing two spicy romances and another erotic romance and hopes to finish them soon.
Passion is a major theme in Sophia's work, no matter which name she uses. When she's not writing about passion, she's indulging in it—yoga, hiking, laughing with friends over hot chile and cold beer, and watching the Sandia Mountains turn the color of ripe watermelon at sunset.
Learn more about Sophia Ryan online at http://sophiaryan.webs.com/
Inhoudsopgave
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
