Stay with Me (Strickland Sisters Book 1)

by Alexandria House

  “No!” he shouted, making me pull the phone from my ear. “What I’m telling you is until the hotel is up and running, you don’t have any free time!”

  And then his ass hung up on me. So there I sat, two hours after the time I’d usually get off work, staring at boxes, rehashing the conversation, and trying to deny the truth.

  I was distracted.

  Very distracted.

  But the problem was, I didn’t want to stop being distracted. I didn’t want to spend more time working and less time with Angela. I didn’t want to stop making videos with her. I liked my life as it was, but I also didn’t want to lose my job.

  I grabbed my keys and stood, glancing around the office before leaving, realizing that sitting there giving myself a headache was not going to fix anything.

  *****

  I used the key she’d given me and let myself into her side of the duplex, dropping onto her sofa and tossing my keys onto her coffee table. I sat there staring at the floor, still suffering from the effects of a fucked-up day at work. When she entered the room, I looked up and gave her an unconvincing smile, said, “Hey, baby,” and dropped my eyes to the floor again.

  She slid into my lap and I wrapped my arms around her, kissing her gently on the lips and pulling her tightly to me.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, as she hugged me back, resting her head on my shoulder, a cloud of soft, kinky hair brushing against my cheek.

  “Work.”

  She sat up and looked me in the eye. “What happened?”

  I sighed, rubbed my forehead, and slowly told her.

  “Anyone can make a mistake, baby. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” she offered.

  I shook my head. “It was a stupid mistake, Angela. I don’t make mistakes like that. My boss asked me if I was distracted, brought up our videos…”

  I could feel her body stiffen. “What’d you say?”

  “That I’d fix it. And I did.”

  “No, about me being a distraction. Do you think I’m a distraction, Ryan?”

  “Honestly? Yeah, a big one.”

  She stood from my lap. “Hmm, well…you’ve been here, what? Five months now? That means you’ve only got a month left to be distracted by me, so I guess that’s a good thing.”

  I leaned forward and dropped my head. “You gotta bring that up now? And it’s actually six weeks, not a month. My little fuck-up bought us two more weeks.”

  As soon as I said that, I regretted it. It didn’t come out right, sounded all wrong.

  She stared at me. “Bought us two more weeks? So…what? We’re over when you leave?”

  “Angela, I did not say that. That’s not what I said at all, and I’m stressed the hell out right now. I just almost lost my damn job. Now is not the time for us to discuss this.”

  She cocked her head to the side and scoffed. “When is a good time to discuss it, Ryan? When you leave in a month—oh, my bad. I forgot you bought us some more time together.”

  “Damn, really? You wanna do this now after the day I had? For real, Angela?”

  “I just wanna know what’s gonna happen when your job here is over since you’re the one who said you’d figure something out. What’s the plan, Ryan? When do you plan on sharing it with me, because I’m on pins and needles wondering what’s going to happen. I’m in this relationship and I have no clue what direction it’s going in!”

  “Shit, neither do I, because I haven’t figured it out yet! Damn! What do you think I’m gonna do? Dump you three seconds before I hop on a plane back to Houston?”

  “That’s the fucking point, Ryan! I don’t know!”

  “Angela! I can’t think about this shit right now!”

  “Have you been thinking about it at all?”

  “Angie—”

  “You haven’t, have you? What are you doing? Just hoping this situation will fix itself? Well, it won’t! Either we’re going to be together or we’re not. You need to tell me which one it is.”

  “Do you wanna break up? Is that it?! Is this your way of telling me?!”

  Her face softened a little as she furrowed her brow. “Ryan, I didn’t—”

  “You know what? Fuck it! Let’s break up right now so your ass won’t be in fucking suspense anymore. That’s what you want, right? You’re so damn convinced it’s gonna happen, then I’ll make it happen. It was fun, I enjoyed it, but whatever. It’s over. Done.”

  Her eyes were glassy, and as she lowered them, a single tear trickled down her face. That’s when I realized what I’d done. That was the old Ryan saying that stuff to her. The ain’t-shit Ryan. Ain’t-shit Ryan didn’t exist on the same plane as Angela, and up until that moment, I thought he couldn’t exist in her presence. But somehow, his stupid ass had popped up, and now Angela’s Ryan was left to deal with the consequences.

  She slightly shook her head and looked back up at me, her eyes now full of tears. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.

  “Baby,” I said softly, “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. It’s just…I had a bad day. I told you now wasn’t a good time to talk about this.”

  She raised her eyebrows and wiped her eyes with the hem of her t-shirt. “So this is my fault?”

  “No…no, baby. That’s not what I meant. Baby, I’m sorry. What do you want me to say? I don’t know how to deal with shit like this…”

  “I don’t want you to say anything. I want you to go. Just go, Ryan.”

  “Where am I supposed to go?” I asked, actually perplexed at the thought of leaving her. What was I supposed to do with the hours between now and when I had to be back at work besides spend them with her, laughing, talking, eating, making love…

  She shrugged. “I don’t care. You just need to go. If you don’t, I will. But I don’t wanna see your face. I don’t wanna hear your voice. I just want you to get the fuck out of my house.”

  My heart squeezed in my chest and for a full five minutes, all I could do was stand there staring at her.

  She finally shook her head and left the living room. I followed her until she entered the bathroom and slammed the door in my face, screaming from the other side, “Ryan, go!”

  So I left.

  I went back to work. Couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. I would’ve gone to a bar to drink my sorrow away, but if anyone had even said hi to me, I probably would’ve cursed them out. I didn’t want to be around people unless they were named Angela Strickland. And I had fucked up so royally with her, that was out of the question. As I sat in my dark office in the empty hotel that smelled of paint and wood and cardboard, I told myself this was for the best. I wasn’t wired for this relationship stuff. Trying to navigate the world of monogamy was like rocket science to me. I was bound to mess things up with her. I was kidding myself trying to be in a committed relationship. Whoever I was with her wasn’t really me anyway.

  I shook my head at my own stupidity. Sitting there in the dark over a damn woman. I didn’t do shit like this. What I needed was to get ahold of myself and take my ass somewhere and find me another woman, a good one-night-stand partner, someone I could screw with no attachments. Yeah, that was exactly what I needed, some random, no-strings-attached pussy.

  I snatched my keys up from my desk, and said to myself, “Yeah, that’s exactly what I need.”

  33

  I don’t know why I pushed him. I could tell he was stressed, a state I’d never seen him in before. Ryan was laid back, happy, intense when it came to intimacy, but stressed? Never. So why had I pushed him?

  Because I wanted to know what the future held. Because the possibility of us ending when his job did always resided in the back of my mind. Because I loved him, loved him fiercely, and the idea of losing someone I loved that much scared me to death.

  So I asked.

  The timing couldn’t have been more wrong, but I asked. And he said what he said, breaking my heart, shattering it beyond repair. I thought I’d had my heart broken before by Benny and Khalil, but those were only litt
le scratches. Ryan had actually split my heart in two, and I wasn’t sure if I would ever recover.

  I sat on my bathroom floor, on the ice blue rug, hugging my knees with tears flooding my cheeks. I shouldn’t have ever started up with him, but if I hadn’t, I would’ve never known what it felt like to love him, and I wouldn’t trade having loved him for anything in the world. I was hurt, but I wanted him back.

  But it was too late for that. It was over. He’d said so. So that made it law, because he was Ryan Boyé, and Ryan Boyé was a man who always got what he wanted, including me. I was his to throw away, and he’d thrown me away.

  And it was my fault.

  I should’ve just listened to him, offered some support, screwed him, anything other than starting a damn argument. And maybe I shouldn’t have told him to leave.

  I shook my head as I lay on my side and hugged myself. Eventually, I cried myself to sleep on the bathroom floor.

  *****

  I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when a bumping sound awakened me. I was sure it was late, but I’d left my phone somewhere in my apartment and I didn’t have a watch on. I sat up, tried to get my bearings and blink away the pounding headache that made it hard to think.

  The bumping sound returned, and I recognized it as knocking. Someone, most likely Ryan, was knocking on the bathroom door. Almost reflexively, I reached to unlock it, then remembered what was said, what he’d said, and drew my hand back.

  “Angie!” he called through the door. “Angela?! Are you still in there?”

  I just sat there with my eyes on the door, unable to answer him.

  “Look, I know you don’t wanna talk to me or see me, but if you’re in there, would you say something? Are you okay?”

  Tears filled my eyes again, though I could’ve sworn I’d cried them all out. I bit my bottom lip and turned my back to the door, wrapping my arms around my knees again.

  “Angela, baby, say something. I don’t wanna kick this door down, but I will.”

  “I’m fine, Ryan,” I said in an unreliable, shaky voice.

  “Okay…good.”

  There was silence, and for a moment, I thought he’d left, which made me feel relieved, and at the same time, made me want to curl up in a ball and waste away.

  Then I heard, “Angela, I need to say something to you. I need you to listen to me, and then if you want me to go, I’ll go.”

  I didn’t reply.

  “All right. Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. What I said…look, I’m a fucked-up dude, I got all these issues, and I’m scared of commitment and shit. I honestly don’t deserve you. You’re too good for me. I know that, but…but I love you, Angela. I do, and I was just stressed and I don’t deal with stress or conflict well. I don’t know how to deal with it. So for most of my life, I’ve just avoided it. That’s why I didn’t do relationships before. But you…I’m different with you. I…”

  His voice trailed off and I lifted my head, turned around, and stared at the door.

  “Angela, I don’t want to lose you and I don’t wanna lose who I am with you. Look, baby, I know you’re scared about the future, and so am I, but I can promise you this, the end of my job here won’t be the end of us. I just need more time to figure out how to make that happen. I know you think this should be easy, but it’s hard for me.”

  My face screwed all up as more tears came. I buried it between my knees and hiccupped air.

  “Angie?”

  I sniffled, and stuttered out, “You-you love me?”

  “From the bottom of my damn soul, baby. Been driving around all night, trying to convince myself that I didn’t, because the thought of it scares the shit out of me. But I do. I love you, and I need you. And I’m sorry for hurting you.”

  I fumbled with the lock on the doorknob, finally getting it to turn. When Ryan opened the door and looked down at me, his eyes red-rimmed, wearing a worried and exhausted expression on his face, I said, “You didn’t get any sleep?”

  “How could I?” he asked, as he sat on the bathroom floor beside me, drawing me into his arms.

  “But you have work.”

  “I know. I’ll be all right.” He kissed my forehead. “Are you all right?”

  I nodded against his chest. “I am now. I’m sorry for pushing you. You were already stressed and I just added to it.”

  “But that doesn’t make what I said right.”

  “Ryan, I knew you didn’t mean it when you said it. I could see it in your eyes, knew it in my heart, but it hurt to hear it. It hurt to think you could even say it whether you meant it or not. And then you left…and I started thinking you meant it.”

  “Baby, you told me to leave.”

  “I know, I just…you hurt me.”

  He rubbed his hand up and down my back. “I’m sorry. I…that wasn’t me. Not the me I am with you. That was someone I used to be. Someone who never gave a damn about anyone but himself. You helped me become better. I don’t know what else to say but I’m sorry, baby. I am.”

  “I believe you.”

  “And I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “No one’s said that to me since my mother died.”

  I looked up at him. “Baby…”

  “It’s all right. It’s just good to finally hear it again. Especially coming from you.”

  “I mean it. I do love you. I love you so much.”

  “Me, too, baby.”

  “And Ryan, I’m sorry for distracting you from your job.”

  “Nah, that’s on me. Just gotta learn how to balance things.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes, and then Ryan stood and reached for my hand, “Come on. Let’s go to bed. Maybe I can get a couple of hours of sleep in.”

  “Okay.”

  I stared at my puffy eyes in the mirror and sighed, still unsure of how I felt. I was relieved he was back and that we had an understanding of sorts. He was sorry and he loved me and he was going to figure something out. I believed him. I truly did, but it was hard for me to push my misgivings away. Time was marching on, and I had no idea what “figuring things out” sounded like. I loved him, I didn’t want to lose him, and I was worried.

  I sighed again as I grabbed my toothbrush and wet it. I had no idea why I was up so early other than the fact that my troubling thoughts refused to let me sleep and I was tired of lying in bed listening to Ryan breathe while I stared at the ceiling. His arm had felt good draped across my waist, but it had provided little comfort to me.

  I squeezed a bit of toothpaste onto my toothbrush, but before I could shove it into my mouth, Ryan appeared in the mirror behind me, and although he had slept, he still looked tired. He wordlessly moved the thin strap of the tank top I’d slept in—as my late grandmother would put it— ready-roll and kissed my shoulder. Then he reached around and cupped both of my breasts through my shirt, squeezing the nipples until they were hard enough to cut glass while nibbling on my neck at the same time. I dropped the toothbrush in the sink and leaned against him, closing my eyes and releasing a moan. His hands left my breasts and I felt him gently push against my upper back, encouraging me to bend over the counter. I did, opening my eyes and meeting his in the mirror as he slid my panties to the side and entered me, releasing a moan that matched mine.

  His eyes held mine as he glided in and out of my wetness, gripping my hips and licking his lips. “Baby,” he murmured, the first word he’d uttered since beginning this ambush.

  “You’re gonna be late for work…” I whined as I grabbed for…something, finally wrapping my hand around the faucet, whimpering with each thrust he delivered.

  “Angela…” he muttered. “Angela…”

  I guess he didn’t care about being late for work.

  I took my other hand and reached behind me, groping for him and finally landing on the bare skin of his muscular stomach. “Ryan…”

  He leaned forward, pressing his lips to my back. “I love you,” he grunted. “I love you so much.”


  “I…love…you…too…” I replied, as the pressure building inside of me made it hard to breathe, speak, think.

  He placed his hands on my shoulders, closing his eyes as he thrusted deeper and deeper and deeper until…

  “Ahhhhhhhh!!” we yelled in unison, our fused bodies seizing in concert.

  Ryan rested his head on my back. “I love you, baby. I love you…”

  “I love you, too, Ryan.”

  34

  It’d been two weeks since I almost lost her.

  That night, I’d left the hotel fully intending to forget about her by replacing her. Went to a bar and was quickly approached by a tall, sexy sister, the kind of sexy most men would jump through hoops to get a taste of. She sat next to me, offered to buy me a drink, and at first, I thought I’d hit the jackpot. Then she flipped her hair and the scent of her perfume hit my nose. It was the same perfume Angela always wore. But she wasn’t Angela, and the perfume smelled different on this woman. When I smelled it on Angela, it reminded me of how it felt to hold her in my arms or listen to her breathe at night if she fell asleep before I did. But most of all, it made me think of making love to her.

  As the woman talked about…hell, I don’t know what she was saying. Didn’t hear a word of it. All I could think about was how she was wearing Angela’s perfume but shouldn’t have been, because she wasn’t Angela. She didn’t look like her or sound like her, and I was one hundred percent sure she wouldn’t feel like her, either. As the woman smiled at me, probably waiting for me to respond to whatever she said, I realized I could sleep with ten women that night, and not one of them would feel like Angela or smell like Angela, or make me feel the way I felt when I was with her. So I paid for my drinks, the one I’d ordered but never touched, and the one the woman ordered for me that still sat full on the bar, too, and then I left, climbed in my car, and rode around until I came to terms with the fact that for the first time in my life, I was in love.