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Love Reality Page 14

by Nana Malone

“What, with my totally awesome disguise?” He nudged his cap further down, and even she had to admit, she’d be hard pressed to make him out.

  “Still risky. I’m sorry.”

  He pulled her close. “Stop apologizing. I wanted to see you anyway. If you don’t want to talk, then let’s distract you and go out.”

  “That’s crazy; we can’t.”

  “Oh, ye of little faith. Trust me.”

  And that was the kicker of it. She did. It was partly the reason why she’d called him before Larissa or Delilah. “Okay, as long as it doesn’t involve cameras, I’m flexible. If I see one more, I’ll literally lose my mind.”

  “Not a one. I promise you.”

  “It’s been a long day. I’m really over it right now.”

  He nodded. “Dare I ask who the culprits were today?”

  “Jaimeson, Adam, and that total fucktard, Dorian.” Though as much as she loathed him, she understood tonight hadn’t been his fault. He was following Jamie’s orders.

  Ryan rolled his eyes. “Have I mentioned I’m not a fan of you seeing other guys?”

  “In that case, you probably shouldn’t have entered a reality TV dating show contest. Surely you read the fine print.”

  “Yeah, well, at the time, it said nothing about you being the Cinderella. I never would have agreed to that.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Did one of them make you cry?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  She slid her palm into his, and his big hand wound around hers as he tugged her in close.

  “Did any of those assholes try to kiss you?”

  She swallowed as the thought of Dorian’s fumbled attempt. No. She was not going to think about that right now. She wanted to forget for the night. “All three. Only two landed though.”

  A muscle in his jaw ticked. But he expelled a long breath. “Two huh? Let me guess, Jameson and Adam. I’m pretty sure you’d cut off your left arm before you let Dorian near you. I suppose that’s better than three.” His voice dropped. “I still don’t like it. Do you have any idea how crazy it makes me to think of them with their hands all over you?”

  “You can relax. The only one who looked like he might have meant it was Jameson. And as for Adam, he was trying to bring me close to warn me.”

  His brows snapped down. “Warn you about what?”

  “Not to ask questions on camera. He said he’d talk to me on the next group date.”

  They held hands on the subway, and when the crush of people forced them even closer, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close until she was flush against his body. The unmistakable length of his erection pressed against her belly.

  “Just ignore him; he has no manners.” He whispered in her ear, teasing a shiver out of her.

  It didn’t matter that they were in a crowded subway car or that anyone could see or overhear them. All she could think about was the way her core pulsed when she was close to him. How her nipples ached and how her skin tingled. This was dangerous. Ryan was dangerous. But the cautious part of her brain was categorically cut off. She was going on instinct now.

  Every time he looked at her, her body threatened to melt. Sure, men looked at her, but he looked at her like he only saw her. Like she was the sole focus of his attention. It was unnerving…and unbelievably sexy. It made her feel powerful.

  Unable to resist, she shifted her hips side to side to mold herself more tightly against him.

  He hissed. “Mia?”

  She looked up at him. “Yeah?”

  “You probably shouldn’t do that anymore.”

  She frowned with disappointment. “Why?”

  He rocked his hips into her. “Because I’m already dangerously close to coming in my jeans. You’re really not helping things.”

  Oh…well then… She tried shifting back an inch, but his strong hands slid down her back and into her back pockets and held her in place, squeezing her ass and rocking her against him.

  She felt like one giant raw, throbbing nerve ending. “I thought you said you were, erm, on edge.”

  “I am. Doesn’t mean I don’t like it.”

  Luckily the train stopped at Canal Street, and they hopped off. He took her hand in his and stuck a cap on her head, tucking her hair over her ears, shielding her face even more.

  “You really think anyone’s going to recognize me?”

  “It’s better to be sure.”

  “Okay, then,” she said once they were on the teaming streets of Chinatown. “Where are we headed?”

  He grinned and tugged her across Centre Market Pl. “You’re not so good with surprises, are you?”

  “No.” She laughed. “Usually, as a little kid, surprises meant bad things, like someone was leaving or I was being moved to another home.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  It was too easy to be with Mia. To talk to her. As Ryan directed her to the hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant, he let himself relax. Probably more than he should have. But he liked it. For once not having his guard up. As they walked, they talked more about family and her proposal as well as his column.

  When she talked about the show, he knew she was unsure of how to proceed.

  “You have good instincts; you should listen to them.”

  Mia’s laugh rang clear. “Oh, should I now?”

  He nodded. “For example, what did your instincts tell you about me?”

  A light flush dusted her cheeks. “Yeah, well, I prefer not to think of those as instincts but more like raging hormones.”

  Ryan grinned. “Well, they do come from the same place.”

  Mia cocked her head. “You mean that little devil sitting on my shoulder?”

  “Yep, that’s the one. I listen to mine all the time.”

  When she stopped and turned to face him, her eyes were bright and mischievous. “You really want to know what my instincts told me about you?”

  She smelled so good. Like jasmine and freedom. He wanted to bury himself in it and inhale. But he’d probably scare her off if she knew how much he wanted her. “Yeah, I really want to know.”

  When she stepped closer, her breasts lightly brushing his chest, his brain went offline for a second. Wow. If she could do this to him when she wasn’t even trying, he was in a hell of a lot of trouble when she decided to try.

  They continued talking as they were seated in a far corner by the window where they could people watch but where no one would think to look for them. The menu was entirely in Chinese, so he asked her what she liked and ordered for her.

  “So why don’t you tell me about Jezzie?”

  Mia dropped her head into her hands. “I am so sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay; I take it you didn’t know she was coming?”

  “No. She’s a bit in and out. She only stayed a night then she was off to LA. But at least I got to see her.”

  A smirk twisted his lips. “And she got to see us.”

  Her face flamed, and he couldn’t help a laugh. It was too easy to rile her up. Forget that, it was too easy to be with her period. He liked her. Then maybe it’s time to start telling the truth. He still had time; he would solidify the story on Jamie and shift focus from Mia. She wouldn’t get hurt. He’d see to it.

  “I’m mortified.”

  Sliding a hand over hers, he rubbed his thumb over her knuckle. “It’s okay. In fact I’d pay money to see you hop over the couch like that again. I got quite the view of your—”

  “Oh, my God, stop!”

  Still chuckling he said, “Okay, fine. I’ll behave. I promise. So is Jezzie short for Jessica?”

  “No, it’s Jezebel.”

  A laugh barked out before he could stop it. “Oh, man, please tell me she’s not a stripper.”

  Mia laughed. “No. She’s not. A model actually. But you wouldn’t know it to talk to her. She’s the mousy one in the corner with a book usually. But then when she gets glammed up, she’s all woman hear me roar.”

  “Must be a family th
ing.” He asked the next question because he really wanted to know, but he didn’t know how she would respond. “Do you talk to your birth parents at all?” He immediately regretted asking, because the bright carefree light in her eyes dimmed, and she shuttered her expression.

  Mia shuddered then shook her head vehemently. “No. My father died when I was really little. I don’t even remember him except as a presence. My mother, well, she wasn’t very good at the mom thing. I was taken away when I was five and put into foster care. She was in and out of jail a lot. Sarah and John adopted me when I was eight. My real life started then. When I was in foster care, we all used to dream about these perfect lives where our parents were rich and they missed us so much and one day they would come and get us.” She rapidly blinked away tears.

  There was something she still wasn’t telling him. “I can’t even imagine.”

  “I was really young, but that first foster family I had, the woman was kind. I think her name was Doris or something like that. But her husband, he was terrible. At that age, I just needed some stability and to know that someone somewhere cared about me. Well, all he cared about were the checks from the state. Even then I understood what it was like to be used. It’s why the Jamie thing makes me so insane.” She swiped at her nose with a tissue.

  He tried to lighten the mood. “You watched too much Annie, huh?”

  She brightened a little at that. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

  “Honestly, I think you should do a show on your life. At the very least your family.”

  “Way too personal. I went with the “Lonely Girl” show idea because it’s the every woman trying to make it in New York. Even though she’d be black, I think everyone could identify with her. A newly updated Sex & the City.”

  “Personal stories make the best shows. “Lonely Girl” is a great premise, but the show I’d watch is one about your family. Whenever you talk about them, I’m mesmerized.”

  “I’ve never given it much thought. They are just my crazy family.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe you should.”

  “Maybe I will. I have no idea how the “Lonely Girl” proposal is going to go now that it’s in.” She changed the subject. “Enough work talk. What about you? What was it like growing up for you?”

  He wasn’t sure how to answer. “Uh. I had things handed to me my whole life. So I didn’t struggle in that regard, but where your house was warm, mine wasn’t. My mother tried, but she wasn’t sure how to give us enough attention without being smothering. She was hot and cold. Some moments too involved and other moments distant. I know she loved us. But I think she saw us as my father’s children, knew he’d groom us. She died before I ever got to really know her.”

  A deep furrow creased her otherwise smooth brow. “That’s sad.”

  It was his turn to shrug it off. He hadn’t had it that rough. At least there’d been money and lots of it and he’d had Reece. He hadn’t been alone. “It wasn’t so bad. I had my brother Reece. We were really tight.”

  “What about your father?”

  “Well, if you look up my old man in the dictionary, you’ll find his name is also synonymous with asshole. He’s tried to control me my whole life. “

  “Do you miss it, the money and the lifestyle?”

  His brows rose. “No. Fuck no. Everyone thinks I was booted out. And for a long time that narrative worked for me. But the truth is, I was the one who walked away. That life, it was draining in this sort of soul-sucking way. I could have stayed the course, gone into finance like Dad and Reece, and let that control my life. Making more money that wouldn’t make me happy. Because for all the trappings, my old man was never happy. Or—” he sat back “—I could go out on my own, find something I liked to do, and excel at it.”

  “I don’t know anyone who would walk away from that life.”

  He shook his head. He didn’t want her getting a false impression of his nobility. “Don’t go making me the hero now.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe you’re not a hero, but it must have been hard to walk away.”

  “Walking away from the money was easy enough. I just left the trust fund in my brother’s hands. Went to college, got a normal guy job. Got three. After Mom died, I inherited a chunk of change, but I refuse to touch it.”

  “But you could do a lot of good with that money.”

  “I know. I’ve been giving that a lot of thought lately. Like maybe it’s not the root of all evil.”

  “How does your dad take it, you walking away? A part of him must be a little proud of you.”

  His laugh felt empty. “I promise you, he’s not proud of me. And he makes it a point to tell me at every opportunity. Matter of fact, he’s pretty pissed he can’t control me anymore. You should see him try. Just this week, he threatened to buy my newspaper if it meant getting me off the show. Apparently, I’m an embarrassment.”

  “I’m sorry, Ryan.”

  “Not your fault.”

  Their food arrived, and she picked up her chopsticks. “Okay, you’re going to have to tell me what I’m eating here.”

  For the next hour, they ate and laughed and they recounted stories of their siblings.

  When he told her about the time Reece had arranged a girl for his first time, she laughed so hard Sprite almost came out of her nose.

  “I was an impressionable boy. He traumatized me for life.”

  Mia held a napkin to her nose even as she clutched her sides laughing. “How old were you?”

  He shook his head at the memory. “I was fourteen.” Reece thought it was hilarious at the ripe old age of fifteen to get a hooker to pop his little brother’s cherry. Too back he hadn’t checked out the escort service properly. He’d gotten me a transvestite. To this day he swears up and down he didn’t know.”

  “Oh, you poor thing.”

  “Yeah, that’s Reece for you. He never did think things through. I declined the uh, young woman’s offer to, er, initiate me. I lost it myself a year later to a girl from school.”

  Mia still laughed. “I’m glad to see the experience didn’t scar you for life.”

  He shook his head. “Are you kidding? I was fourteen; boobs ruled my life. All I could think about was seeing some and praying to God I’d be allowed to touch.” Even as the words tumbled out of his mouth, his gaze darted to the V of her T-shirt. His palms itched to touch her again, to feel her nipples pebble in his palm.

  “Did you just look at my boobs?”

  He grinned unabashedly. Why not just own it. “Sure did. You, Miss Mia Donovan, have a body that keeps me tossing and turning most nights.”

  She quirked an eyebrow, and her lips tipped into a sly smile. “And just what are you thinking about that’s keeping you…up?” She coiled her hair around her finger in an innocent gesture.

  “If I told you, I’d probably scare you off.”

  She peered at him through narrowed slits of those beautiful eyes. “Try me.”

  * * *

  “Come on, I want to show you something.”

  Mia laughed, unsure if she should take his outstretched hand or not. “You know the last time you wanted to show me something, it involved a little ‘I show you mine you show me yours.’”

  His bark of laughter bounced off the walls of the adjoining buildings as they walked down to the deserted side street toward the teaming masses of Canal.

  “Yes, well, you were very distracting. I mean, I’m only human, and you were grinding on me for the better part of two hours. I sort of couldn’t help myself. But it was true; I wanted to show you something then. I just got distracted by that smile and your eyes.”

  She scrunched her nose. “You know, as a kid, I hated the color of my eyes.”

  He frowned and shook his head in disbelief. “Why? They’re unusual and extremely arresting.”

  “Come on, a black girl with blue eyes? I was either the object of ridicule or overt fascination. Perfect strangers felt comfortable coming up to me and asking if both my parents wer
e black, or which of my parents was white, or if I had contacts in. Eventually, I gave up and started wearing brown contacts. I couldn’t deal with the bullshit.”

  He stalled them and tugged her close. “Well, I’m glad you stopped wearing them. I think you’re beautiful.”

  Mia ducked her head. When he talked to her like this, she wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe he could care about her. “Thank you.”

  He kissed her softly and then stepped back but still held her hand. “Good lord, woman, if I start that, then I’ll never be able to stop, and this time, I actually do want to show you something.”

  She let herself be tugged through the throngs of the crowds, completely secure that he had her hand and wouldn’t let her go. Despite herself, she trusted him. He wasn’t going to hurt her. She still couldn’t bring herself to talk about that woman today. She forced her brain to compartmentalize like she always did.

  When they got to his apartment, he slipped the key into the lock, and she noticed his fingers tremble.

  “Are you okay?”

  He ducked his head as a slow smile stole over his lips and a chuckle escaped. “Yeah, I’m just trying to figure out how I’ll be able to keep my hands off of you. Because I’m pretty desperate to touch you again.”

  How was she supposed to respond to that? Brain says, be cautious. Body says, shut up brain, touch me. Please touch me. To silence the inner monologue, she cleared her throat. “I didn’t say you couldn’t touch me.”

  He expelled a long breath then pinned her with a scorching gaze. “I touch you once, and we won’t be stopping for a while.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  “Close your eyes.”

  She did as he told her, and he led her through his apartment.

  When he let go of her hand, he whispered, “Don’t open your eyes until I tell you.”

  When he finally let her open her eyes, there was a glass case on the coffee table with a book inside.

  She blinked. Then, not believing the picture in front of her, she blinked again. “Ryan, I thought you were kidding when you said you had a first edition Pride and Prejudice.”

  He nodded and grinned. “I figured you might want to see it.”

 

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