How can I say no to a man who is completely broken and allowing me to be here with him through it all? Before I can say anything, he lightly yanks on my arm, causing me to land on the couch next to him.
“Okay.”
It’s as simple as that. I wouldn’t leave him even if my apartment was on fire. I couldn’t.
We watch television mindlessly, neither of us paying attention to the show in front of us. I haven’t gotten up the nerve to ask him about what happened, but I think I’ve given him enough time. If I really want to help him, I have to ask him the personal questions I never did before.
“What happened?” I ask while keeping my eyes trained on the television. Maybe it’ll be easier for him to talk if I’m not staring at him.
Ryan grabs my hand for what I assume is support to find his voice. “That guy was my father. He’s gotten worse since he slipped back into drinking. Every day, I pick him up from another bar when he’s rip roaring drunk. I take his keys away from him and coax him into my car. When coaxing doesn’t work, whoever the bartender is helps me drag him to my car. I drive him home, push him into the house, and throw him onto his bed. I leave a trashcan by his bed along with a glass of water and Advil. When he passes out, I take a bus to the bar I picked him up at and drive his car back to his house. I stay every night I pick him up to make sure he doesn’t choke on his own vomit or try to wander out to another bar.
“Recently, after every bender he has been on, he rips into me. He’s too drunk to physically hurt me, but he bashes me as much as he can with his words. Always telling me I’m not good enough or will never amount to anything. This is the first time he’s thrown my mother in my face. That hurt more than anything else he could have said. I only remember pieces of her. If my father was anything like he is today, I can understand why she left, but I can’t understand why she left my brother and me with that monster.”
It kills me to see him this way. He means more to me than he knows. More than I knew until this exact moment. A moment where he's baring everything to me. Being open to scrutiny is never easy, but the way he’s talking makes it seem as if it’s nothing. Which is worse. That means he believes every word he’s saying. I know without a shadow of a doubt it couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s an encouraging and simply amazing person. The fact that his dad doesn’t see it is a damn shame. The fact that he doesn’t see it is fucking unacceptable.
“She doesn’t know what she’s missing. You are a shining star, Ryan, and I have never met anyone else like you who cares so deeply for those around him. I know what your father said hurts you, and the drinking is no excuse for him to hurl those ugly accusations at you. You deserve better than a father who doesn’t see your worth.” I turn to him and crisscross my legs. Although he’s not looking at me, I know he senses the importance in what I’m saying. “Drinking, especially when it’s an addiction, turns you into someone you don’t recognize. Your father’s addiction drives him. It brings out his worst self.” I squeeze his hands, hoping he’ll look at me and know I’m being sincere. “You have too many other people in your life who see the amazing person you are. You are there for everyone but yourself. Don’t listen to a word your father says, because I can tell you for a fact not a single word that came out of his mouth is true. Ryan, there's no one else out there like you, and I mean that in the highest regard possible. You are everything…especially to me.” The last part slips out, but it doesn’t make it any less true. I mean every word.
Ryan finally looks over at me, and the corner of his mouth lifts ever so slightly. “Thanks, Avery.”
That’s the last thing said between us for the next hour. We sit comfortably actually watching television this time.
It dawns on me I need to clean my tattoo. I was so wrapped up in what happened with Ryan that I forgot. I excuse myself to the restroom to clean it for the first time today.
I slip off my shirt and throw it on the floor. I lift my hair into a messy bun on top of my head to keep it out of the way. Slipping my bra strap off my shoulder, I peel off the saran wrap, revealing the gorgeous red sunflower. I smile to myself, admiring it in the mirror. A perfect reminder.
A light knock jerks me out of my admiration.
“Everything okay?” Ryan asks from the other side of the door.
“Uh, yeah.” I look around for antibacterial soap but fail to locate any. “Do you have any soap?”
“Yeah, I’ll get some. Hang on.”
How is he going to hand me soap? I mean, I do have my shirt off.
“Here ya go,” he announces before cracking open the door. I swiftly grab my shirt and place it in front of my chest before the door opens. “Do you need...what are you doing?” he asks, perplexed. He attempts to keep his eyes on my face, but every once in a while they drift down to the shirt covering my chest.
“I, um, well, I needed the soap to clean my shoulder.” I nervously rearrange my shirt to cover more of my chest.
“Why do you need to clean your shoulder? Did you hurt yourself?”
“No.” I bite my lip anxiously.
He catches a glimpse of my shoulder and steps into the bathroom, eliminating the space between us. He steps behind me and stares at the work of art etched onto my body.
“When did you get this?”
“Today.”
He gently runs his hand around the sunflower, careful not to touch the angry skin. I force myself to keep my eyes open and not give into the way his skin feels against mine. But my body betrays me and small goosebumps appear on my arms, and my eyes briefly close.
“It’s perfect,” he says in a low voice.
Ryan wets a washcloth and wrings out the excess water, leaving it damp. He gently dabs my tattoo, careful not to rub too hard. He squirts soap into his hands and massages my shoulder with it. He delicately cleans it and neither of us say a word. When he’s done, he ensures all the soap has been washed off. He grabs a clean hand towel to dry it off before applying lotion.
“Thank you,” I say, looking him in the eyes through the bathroom mirror in front of me.
“You’re welcome,” he says with heat in his eyes.
Both of us are trying hard to ignore the passion between us, but the longer we stand staring at each other with my shirt off, flimsily hanging from my limp fingers, the more the fight begins to leave our bodies.
Ryan’s hand runs up the spine of my back, eliciting a small sigh to slip through my lips. His hand moves to the nape of my neck, trailing across my shoulder and down to my arm. He uses his other hand to take the shirt from my hand, and it falls to the floor, exposing my black bra.
He steps closer to me, eliminating the extra space between us. His front is pressed to my back, and my body sags into him. He moves my arm holding my shirt down to my side so nothing blocks his view except my bra. He dips his head down and places a single kiss to my neck that would bring me to my knees if he wasn’t behind me.
His mouth runs up to my ear, and he whispers, “What did I tell you about hiding yourself?” He places a kiss behind my ear before continuing, “You’re perfect.”
He places kisses up and down my neck, and my eyes close of their own accord. I lose the battle and give in to everything I’m feeling. His hands wander across my body, and I lean my head back on his shoulder. My arms have a mind of their own and snake around the back of his neck where I hold on for dear life. His hands run across my breasts quickly before they're on my hips, my stomach, and my back. They move everywhere, and I lose myself in his touch. The clasp of my bra snaps open, and I do nothing to stop him. He maneuverers my arms out of the straps and places my hands back around his neck.
“Avery,” he says in a low sultry voice, “look in the mirror.”
I open my eyes to see my chest fully exposed with Ryan looking at me. Really looking at me. At who I am. I’m not sure how he does it, but I can see it in his stare. He sees every broken part of me, and I feel nothing but beautiful under his gaze.
“You’re gorgeous, babe.
”
He nips my ear, and his hands roam my body all over again before they land on my breasts where he pays extra attention. My body ignites with a fire I’ve never felt. His touch makes my body come alive. A moan escapes my lips, and my hips move back into his where I feel his excitement.
Whatever we’re doing, neither of us are thinking. We follow the desires of our bodies and enjoy the way we feel in each other’s arms.
I spin around in his arms and kiss him. Neither of us holds back. We kiss each other with abandonment. My hands move under his shirt as I roam the planes of his body. I grow tired of the clothes between us and lift his shirt over his head. It lands somewhere on the floor with mine, though neither of us cares.
Ryan picks me up and lifts me onto the bathroom counter. Our bodies meld together so no space remains between us. We grab and pull at each other as if this is the last time we’ll ever see each other.
He lifts me in the air, and my legs wrap around his waist. He attempts to walk us to his room but stops and throws my back into a wall. I could care less about the pain or what’s pinching my back. All that matters is the way he’s kissing and touching me. Every nerve on my body is alive and sensitive to his touch, igniting a fire I’ve never felt before.
He rips me from the wall and makes it to his room where he throws me on the bed, landing softly on top of me. We unbutton each other’s shorts, and they are discarded on his bedroom floor. We kiss and touch every inch of each other. He nips at my neck, and I grind my hips into him, eliciting a low hum from him.
The last of our clothes come off, and we slow our actions from animalistic to gentle. We caress and care for each other as we know the other needs to feel loved and appreciated. Slow passion allows us to explore each other’s bodies. By the time we have done everything but have sex, we are out of breath.
Ryan rests his forehead on mine and sweeps the hair that escaped my hair tie out of my face. He gently caresses my face with his hand, rubbing his thumb across my cheek. He places a light kiss on my lips before collapsing onto the bed next to me. I scoot as close to him as I can and wrap my body around his.
“If you ever need anything, I’m always here for you,” I whisper while mindlessly drawing circles on his stomach.
“I know. Just as you know the same goes for you.”
We lay silently wrapped in each other’s arms as our breathing slows down.
Just before we drift off to sleep, Ryan whispers, “The day I make love to you will be one of the best experiences for both of us. Neither of us are ready right now, but when we are, it will be epic.”
“It’s worth waiting for,” I say sleepily.
I fall asleep in the arms of quite possibly the most perfect man. He may not be perfect in everyone’s eyes, but to me he is. He is everything.
“You did what?” Emily shrieks in my ear from the other end of the phone.
“I got a tattoo. I sent you a picture. Didn’t you get it?”
“I thought it was just a picture you liked. Wait, let me find it and look at it again.”
Beeping goes off in my ear while she presses buttons on her phone to search for the picture. I wait patiently, picking at my fingers.
“Wow, it’s awesome. I can’t believe you did that without telling me first.” She feigns being hurt.
“What would you have done when I told you? It’s not like you could have come down here to be with me. There was no way anyone was talking me out of it.”
“I guess you’re right. Man, it sucks living an hour away.”
“Yeah, it does.” I lie down on the couch and stare at the stark white ceiling. Why do they paint ceilings white? It’s so boring. Who wants to look at a stupid boring white ceiling when they are laying down? I roll over on my side and stare at my television instead. Yeah, not much better.
“How are things going?” Emily asks with a not-so-subtle question in her voice. I know what she really wants to know.
“I’m great. I’ve been going to meetings, and I even shared my story at one. I’m getting better. It’s going to stick this time, Em. It'll be a struggle every day, but I’m ready to change. This time, I’m doing it for me.”
“I’m so proud of you. You have come so far. Now, all you need to do is move up here, so you can be closer to me,” she says with a smile in her voice.
“I don’t know. I’m pretty happy here.” I think back to the night with Ryan and remember all the things we did. It was incredible.
“Earth to Avery,” Emily says in the background. “Where did you go? Is it a boy? Maybe Ryan who's keeping you there?”
“Possibly.”
“You go girl!”
I laugh at her because that isn’t something she would normally say. “I’m rubbing off on you, I see.”
“It was bound to happen eventually. Hey, don’t change the subject. Tell me all about Ryan.”
“I’m still living it, but I promise I’ll tell you.”
“Oh, alright.” She’s so impatient, but I’m not ready to share just yet.
We say our goodbyes to each other after she tells me all about the married life. We’re both genuinely happy in our lives. I never imagined both of us being in this place at the same time. It’s nice we can share this together, even if we don’t see each other often.
In high spirits, I decide to take the trek up that damn mountain. I seem to love torturing myself.
Glistening sweat runs down my face. It burns my eyes when it makes it past my eyelashes. I rub my eyes, but only make the situation worse. Using my t-shirt, I wipe off my face, which fixes the problem and removes the remaining sweat on my face.
I take a break halfway up the mountain. I rest on a dirt-covered bench, attempting to catch my breath.
I graze my hand over my right shoulder to feel a connection to the person I’m missing the most today.
“Oh my, you shouldn’t have, Mr. Grayson,” I say in a mocking southern accent while accepting the red sunflowers he brought me.
“You deserve only the best, my lady.” He bows before me, playing along with my silly game.
“Whatever will we do with the day?”
“I do believe I have just the thing to keep us occupied,” he continues in his horrible accent. He delicately takes my hand into his, holding it in front of us with his right hand behind his back.
“Mr. Grayson, I’m not that kind of lady.” I duck my head bashfully and turn my invisible poufy dress when we make a turn for my bedroom.
“Oh, I have no such intention, my lady. I am a gentleman, after all. I simply wanted to escort you to your bedroom where you shall change into more suitable clothing for the day. That dress will not do for today’s events.”
I’m really wearing baggy pajama pants with an old raggedy t-shirt, but I can’t help but smile at the charade we’re playing.
“What do you suggest I wear today?”
“You need a pair of pants, my dear.”
“Pants? Oh my!” I feign a gasp and place my hand in front of my agape mouth. “No man has ever asked me to deign such a thing. Why ever would you want that?”
“Oh my darling, it is but a surprise.”
We laugh hysterically, causing tears to stream down my face. I let out an unladylike snort and laugh even harder. Once we collect ourselves, I change into pants and a sweater since there’s a slight chill in the air.
Grayson snatches my black wool coat from the dining room table along with my blue scarf before exiting my apartment.
“It’s not that cold outside, Grayson.” I stare at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Ah, but it’s not for the outdoors. Trust me, you’ll need it.”
I roll my eyes while making my way out to his car sitting in the parking lot next to mine.
Grayson blindfolds me once we’re in the car although I do put up a fight. I mean come on, who wants to be blindfolded? What if he’s trying to kidnap me? Kidnap? Ha. I’d go more than willingly with him.
“No peeking,” Grayson says as he
guides me out of the car when we reach our destination.
Of course I don’t listen. I attempt to subtly move the blindfold but fail miserably.
“Hey! Stop that.” He snatches my hand away before I can catch a glimpse of our surroundings.
He places his hands on my shoulders, pushing me forward through the parking lot. I stumble on gravel and curbs along the way because he isn’t doing a very good job of guiding me through the minefield that is the parking lot. Can you sense the sarcasm?
We enter the building and the temperature instantly drops. The hairs on my body stand on edge, even through my clothes. Where are we? Antarctica?
“Stop here. Now, close your eyes.”
“Grayson, I’m blindfolded,” I complain.
“Just do it.”
I inwardly roll my eyes but comply with his silly demand.
The tie of the blindfold loosens and falls away. With my eyes closed, I still have no idea where we are, but I am wishing I still had the blindfold as it was keeping my ears warm.
“Open your eyes,” he whispers in my ear with a hint of a smile in his voice.
Before me is an ice skating rink. There's no one in the arena but us. The ice is freshly polished, appearing wet from the Zamboni.
I smile from ear to ear. “No way!” I scream from excitement and jump in his arms.
I’ve been wanting to go ice skating for months, but Grayson has never wanted to go. He complained that he doesn’t know how and would be on his ass the whole time.
We spend the next several hours of ice skating all by ourselves. It’s not right to call it ice skating as we did spend most of the time on the freezing cold ice, but we laughed the whole time. At that moment, with our asses freezing, pants soaked, and red faces, I knew I was exactly where I was meant to be. With him.
Looking like an idiot with a huge grin on my face, I continue my journey up the evil mountain. It’s the first time a thought of Grayson has brought a smile to my face and not brought me to my knees.
With the trees blowing in the wind around me, I throw my arms in the air and spin in a circle with my eyes closed. The light breeze cools my scorching skin, covered with glistening sweat.
Escaping the Edge Page 16
