by J. Saman
I nod my head, understanding what he means.
“I’m sorry if I freaked you out by saying that. It’s just something I say now, I swear.” A shudder wracks my body and he pulls me in closer to his warm chest. “I didn’t mean to unload all of that on you.”
“Don’t apologize to me about that, ever. I’m glad you shared it with me. I like knowing about you, Katie. The good and the bad and losing your family like that is a large part of who you are.” I nod, not able to say anything because I’m suddenly so overwhelmed by this new friendship. “Just promise me that you’ll never hurt yourself.”
I look directly into his eyes. “I promise.”
And I mean it. I won’t.
If I was going to I would have done it twenty-six months ago when I lost them. He stares into my eyes for another moment, maybe searching for evidence of a lie and when he finds none, he steps back, releasing me from his embrace.
Ryan lets out a slow, heavy breath.
“I was thinking of spending another night here in Charleston. Is that all right with you?”
I almost want to laugh at the subject change, because it’s just so perfect. “I’m one hundred percent good with that.”
“Awesome. Then let’s go get some breakfast and play on the beach while the hotel does our laundry. If we’re going to be spoiled, might as well do it up right.”
Now I do laugh. “I’m all for being spoiled and playing on the beach and eating breakfast.”
And we do just that.
Ryan thinks it’s hilarious to pick me up and toss me in the ocean since I’m so small compared to him, and I think it’s hilarious to splash him with water. He’s not wearing his glasses while we’re in the ocean and it is the first time I’ve ever really seen him without them. I can’t seem to decide which way I like him better, though the jade of his eyes is easier to see without them on.
After a late lunch, Ryan takes a nap since I got him up early.
I head down to the lobby to call my mother, when I notice a flyer taped to an outside pole. It’s an ad for a band I’ve heard of playing at a place called Music Farm. I’m so in and I bet Ryan will be too. After I hang up with my mother, I run back upstairs and tell Ryan about my findings and just as I suspected, he’s in.
I sort of love how much Ryan is into music, and how similar our tastes are.
By the time we walk into Music Farm, it is standing room only.
I don’t care because it is packed and loud and fun. The band is just making their way on stage and the crowd is hollering out their excitement. I’m driving tonight so I’ll just be sticking with water, but Ryan goes straight to the bar and procures himself a beer. The music starts with a heavy bass beat and I’m bouncing on my toes before I even think about it.
“Come dance with me,” I shout up to Ryan, who nods his head and lets me pull him by the hand into fray.
The lead singer is killing it and really amping up the good-sized crowd. I’m jumping and dancing around, and so is Ryan, and we’re having fun. Pure fucking fun, and I feel it. I’m reveling in it and allowing it flow over me because I know for a fact that I haven’t smiled or danced or laughed this much in over two years.
The crowd is over the top and Ryan and I have to maintain points of contact otherwise we’ll lose each other in no time. After about forty-five minutes I’m dying, and do the universal sign to Ryan to indicate that I need something to drink.
He nods, points to himself and holds up one finger indicating he wants one too. I nod and leave him there to continue his enjoyment.
The oval shaped bar is pretty packed, but I manage to squeeze my way through and get up to the counter to place my order, when I feel someone looming next to me.
“Hey, pretty lady, can I buy you a drink?” I look over to see a big dude, with sandy colored hair, dark eyes and multicolored tattoos everywhere.
I smile at him and shake my head. “No thanks. I’m all set.”
He steps in closer, and I wonder how long this bartender is going to take to get me a bottle of water and a damn beer.
“Oh don’t be like that. Let me buy your drink. You’re the best looking woman I’ve seen all night, maybe even all year,” he grins and instantly, I’m uneasy.
Despite that, he’s being nice so I don’t really want to be rude, though I definitely don’t love the fact that he’s up in my personal space. There is no place for me to go because there is someone standing directly behind me. So I try a different approach.
“I’m actually here with someone, but really, thanks.” I give him a closed mouth grin.
The guy doesn’t give up though, he leans into my ear, forcing my head back as far as I can manage. “I could make that sexy body of yours feel really good.” And shit. We’ve officially gone to the next level.
“Not interested,” I say with a firmer tone that lets him know I mean it. A strong hand slides onto my waist accompanied by a slightly sweaty body pressing against me from behind. It’s a possessive gesture, one I’m sure this guy doesn’t miss.
Ryan’s familiar scent fills my nose, comforting me instantly.
“Everything okay here?” Ryan asks with a polite edge, but there is no missing the fuck off hostile vibe he’s shooting this guy.
The guy stands to his full height—Ryan has a good four inches on him at least—and squares his shoulders, leaning in ever so slightly.
“I was just offering to buy the beautiful woman here a drink and maybe get a backroom fuck.”
Holy shit, this guy is brazen. Ryan’s hand tenses on my hip and I can feel the anger starting to build in him. I have to do something quickly before this gets out of hand.
So I look the guy directly in the eyes. “And I told him that although it’s a generous offer, there is no way I can accept since I’m here with my boyfriend.” I spin around in Ryan’s arms, snaking my hands up behind his neck until his narrowed eyes pull down to me. “Come on baby, we should get going anyway.”
He blinks once, his jaw clenched tightly as are the firsts I feel on my back. I begin to walk forward, essentially pushing Ryan back, before I look towards to the guy. “Have a good night,” I smile and he doesn’t say anything else.
He’d be stupid to start a fight and he knows it.
I don’t let go of Ryan until we’re outside and next to my car.
“You okay?” I ask since he doesn’t seem to be relaxing his tense stance and hasn’t spoken a word since I pushed him out of the bar.
“Yes,” he says with a bite, but he’s not okay and I don’t know why. Walking over to him, I reach up, brushing my fingers across his soft dark beard. He trimmed it, so it’s not so mountain man anymore.
“Hey.” He looks down at me, but his eyes are blank and distant and his jaw is still tight. “Talk to me. What’s going through your head?”
He finally blows out a long steady breath and I can feel his body relaxing a little.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I just…” He looks up to the starry sky like it has the answer before lowering his furrowed brow back to me. “I got so fucking pissed when I saw him talking to you like that. I knew you didn’t want it and I was so close to losing my shit on him, Katie. So close.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine. No harm no foul.”
He nods once and now I can tell he is softening, because a small smirk is bouncing on his lips.
“How did you do that back there? Normally when a guy says something like that he’s looking for a fight. Either from you or from me.”
“He was looking for sex, and when I wasn’t interested his pride was wounded. Especially when a taller and better looking guy staked their claim on what he wanted.” His mouth quirks up further when I say better looking, but I’m not here to stroke his ego, so I continue. “The best way is to let guys like that believe that the rejection is not about them specifically.” I shrug. “Plus, he knew you were bigger than him and he’s not totally stupid.”
/> Ryan shakes his head. “Where did you come from?”
I shrug again. “Boston, remember?” A smile of my own pops up at answering his rhetorical question.
He laughs and hugs me.
“I’m glad you’re okay. I’ve never been the possessive caveman type, but apparently you bring that out of me. I was ready to beat that guy’s ass.”
“And I’m glad you didn’t. I’d hate to have to deal with the cops.”
He chuckles against my cheek before pulling back.
“Let’s go back to the hotel. I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”
Chapter 7
Ryan
Two days later we’re hanging out at the pool of our hotel in Miami Beach. I’m sipping on a beer and Katie went straight for a vodka tonic with lemon instead of lime. She’s resting on a lounge chair with her shades on and her knees bent up, and I can’t seem to pull my eyes off of her. Thank god I have reflective sunglasses and she can’t see where I’m looking, otherwise I’d have a lot of explaining to do.
But I’m not the only one staring.
And though that shouldn’t piss me off, it does.
She’s wearing the smallest white bikini that struggles to hold in her gorgeous curves. Her golden skin is toned yet soft looking.
I’m in trouble.
I know this and I’ve officially admitted it to myself.
I should have known better before this whole trip even started. Screw that, I did know better and chose to do this anyway. I tried to resist. I had been fighting it, but those two nights in Charleston changed everything, and I don’t know what to do about it.
Ignore it.
Right.
That’s the only thing I can do.
But the truth is, I have no idea how I’m going to get through the next few weeks traveling in a car and being with her constantly. Last night we stopped somewhere in northern Florida and she asked if I wanted to go out and get dinner, but I declined saying I was tired and opted for room service.
So when I woke up this morning I resolved myself to the fact that nothing can or will ever happened. That helped until I saw her in that damn bikini.
She’s fiddling with the pendant on her neck that I assume is a mindless habit or something, because she does it all the time.
“What are you up for tonight?” I ask, forcing my eyes back to the beautiful blue water of the pool in front of me.
The same shade as her eyes. Shit.
“Well,” she rolls on her side to face me. Fuck. Not helping me with that view, Katie. “I sort of made a reservation for dinner at a steak place.”
My eyes widen. “Really?”
That was so thoughtful of her. We had talked about favorite foods the other day and I mentioned steak, though I did not mention my affinity for Thai—my other favorite—for some reason. We’d talked about so many things that day, and I can’t believe she actually remembered.
“That sounds great, thanks.” I can’t help the smile I feel spreading across my face.
“Of course,” she waves me away like it’s nothing. “I heard there is a really hot club in our hotel, so I thought, if you’re into that sort of thing, we could check it out. If not, I’m open to whatever.”
“A club?” I would not have pegged her as the clubbing type.
“Sure,” she rolls back, propping her arm behind her head, and I’m grateful that she’s not facing me anymore. “I like dancing, but if you’d rather do something else or nothing at all…” she trails off.
“Uh.”
I have to think on this.
Going to a club with her could be a bad idea. Dancing with her like that is very tempting in more ways than one. But it’s what she wants to do, and she has been in a really good, happy mood today, and I want to keep her that way. I can suck it up and deal. I mean, I know nothing will happen, so what does it matter if I dance with her?
“Sure. The club sounds fun.”
She smiles wide, but doesn’t say anything else.
After a few more minutes of silence she turns her head to look at me. “Ryan?” she asks softly, almost like she’s not sure if she wants to ask me her question.
“Yeah?”
“Do you think you’re over Francesca? I mean, do you think you ever get over someone you loved and lost?” She’s hesitant and I can’t tell if she’s asking out of curiosity or for herself.
“I am over Francesca,” I tell her with assurance, turning to face her and propping my head up with my hand. “I thought I loved her, but in retrospect, I’m not sure if I actually did, or if it was the idea of her.
“What do you mean?”
“Francesca was very shallow. She enjoyed my money and the lifestyle it provided her. She was selfish. Very selfish. And the things that were important to me, that mattered to me, were not important to her. That’s not love.”
She nods like she understands this. “I know she hurt you, but if she truly is the way you describe her as, then I’m happy you’re not with her anymore.”
“Me too, Katie, me too,” I smile over at her. “But in answer to your other question, I think the people we truly love are always a part of us. That said, we can move on and find someone else to love. Maybe we even love that new person as much as the one we lost, but that doesn’t mean we have to forget them. Moving on doesn’t make the love we have for the person who is gone any less real.”
She swallows hard and nods at me.
“I’m going to go back to my room to take a nap,” she puts on her best fake smile. I hope my words didn’t hurt her or make her feel bad.
“Dinner is at eight, cowboy,” she winks, getting up and leaving me here without another word.
I know she’s struggling coming to terms with her loss, and I wish she didn’t have to go through that alone.
But she does to a certain extent, because only she can find peace in her situation.
I’m showered, my beard is trimmed up and I feel like I look good. I’m wearing a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up, my dark gray pants that sit a little low on my hips and my black dress shoes. I managed to tame my hair by brushing it back, and tonight I’m rocking my contacts that I rarely wear—mostly because they bother me after extended use.
I knock on her door at seven forty-five and when the door swings open, I gasp, making her smile and laugh a little.
“Is that a you look hot gasp or a you look terrible go change now gasp?” She cocks her head to the side, and her long blonde hair falls over her bare shoulder.
“Hot.” I look her up and down because I feel like I have permission to do so. “Definitely hot.”
She smiles, liking my answer.
“Give me a sec. I just have to grab my bag.”
She turns and I watch her fantastic ass as she walks back into her room. She’s wearing a dark red halter top that is very low cut, showing off her ample cleavage as well as her entire back. It stops just at the top of her tiny skirt, so when she moves, I get glimpses of her toned stomach. Her thighs are on full display and she’s paired the whole death-of-me ensemble with sky-high red stilettos.
Oh, and did I mention the fuck-me red of her lips? Yeah, she’s got that going too. She’s back in a flash.
“Ready.”
“Can you actually walk in those shoes?” I gesture at her crazy hooker heels.
“Short women get used to wearing psychotic heels. It’s the only way we feel tall.” She looks up at me. “See, I’m almost cheek height.”
“Not exactly, but we’ll go with it for now.”
She smacks my arm, then loops hers through mine.
“Dick,” she mutters playfully. “We can’t all be blessed with good looks and height. Some of us have to work for it.”
“Uh. Other than the height, you don’t have to work for anything. You’re the most naturally beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” The second the words are out of my mouth I regret them, but she jus
t nuzzles her head on my arm for a second instead of giving me a look that says I crossed the line.
“Thanks. That’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me,” she looks up at me with her light blue eyes that I could happily get lost in. “You look great by the way. Totally hot. I’m digging the whole dark and mysterious thing you’re rocking tonight.” Her hand waves up and down my body and I laugh at her description.
The restaurant is big and trendy, and we both drink more than our weight in alcohol. Hers in apple martini’s and mine in whiskey, so by the time we make it back to our hotel and into the line for the club, we’re drunk. We’re smiling and laughing and touching, and generally having a great fucking time.
We get in about twenty minutes later and she immediately drags me over to a dark sitting area with short white couches and purple mood lighting. Multicolored laser beams of light streak across the room to a synchronized rhythm.
The music in this section is a steady beat of heavy house bass and we have to shout at each other to hear anything. I think she gets frustrated with whole talking thing because she eventually rolls her eyes and grabs my hand, pulling me onto the dance floor full of gyrating bodies.
And then she begins to dance.
Rolling her hips and raising her arms above her head and closing her eyes, and I can’t stop watching her move, because it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
Did I mention how drunk we are?
Because I do something I know I shouldn’t, but can’t for the life of me talk myself out of. I reach out and put my hands on her hips, pulling her into me and moving my body with hers.
Her glassy eyes open to my touch and a big beautiful smile lights up her face.
She’s into this. Us dancing together. So that’s exactly what we do.
We dance and move and even grind a little. My hands roam all over her hips, her ribs, the skin of her stomach and back. Anywhere I feel like I can get away with touching her, I do.
