Kiss Me Slow (Top Shelf Romance Book 1)

by Tijan

  The quiet creeped me out.

  “Are you going in?” Ryan asked.

  I twisted around. I’d been standing on the front steps, staring at the door. I must’ve looked whacked out, like some space cadet who couldn’t sleep by herself, couldn’t handle being around her family, and couldn’t even bring myself to walk up to the porch.

  “You’re too nice to me.”

  “What?” Ryan stepped closer.

  I saw that he had his phone in hand. “Are you going to call Tom?”

  “Yeah. I’ll let him know what happened last night so he’s prepared in case they call when they’re done unpacking the car.”

  I nodded. Yes, that would be soon. It didn’t look like they had much more to do. “I suppose you should call now.”

  “Yeah.”

  But he wasn’t. And I wasn’t leaving.

  We stood there. I watched my front door. He watched me. We sounded normal. We probably even looked normal, but one of us was very much not normal.

  “Why are you doing this?” I asked.

  An irritated huff came from him. “Is this the same thing as last night? You and me?”

  “You and me, you being nice to me, doing this. Are you going to get in trouble?”

  “The only one who might get in trouble is you. Tom will cover, say he stopped by earlier for food and that’s it. Trust me. This isn’t our first rodeo.”

  But why was he being nice to me? Why was he going out of his way to help me? We didn’t even kiss, so he wasn’t doing it for an easy hookup. He was just sleeping next to me.

  “Stop. Okay? Stop.” He touched both of my arms, coming to stand in front of me. “I can see the wheels going in there. Stop.”

  “But why—”

  He cut me off, his hands squeezing once before falling away. He stepped back. “Because I want to.”

  “But why do—”

  “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know either. I . . . I don’t know either. It is what it is. I don’t want to think about it any more than that.”

  And that was the end of it. The questions plaguing me went away as if he’d silenced them. We didn’t have a formal goodbye. I nodded and slipped inside my house. The door was unlocked and the alarm off, so one of my parents had already been outside this morning. Once I was inside, I went to the living room window and watched. Ryan continued to stand in our driveway a moment longer before heading back down the road.

  “Good morning, honey.” My mom sailed past me on her way to the kitchen.

  No, “Oh, you’re up,” or “Where were you last night?” or “When did you get home?” Just “Good morning, honey.”

  I followed her to the kitchen and stared. She never looked at me—not while she filled her coffee cup, not while she put a piece of bread in the toaster, not while she poured some orange juice in a glass. Her head remained down as she buttered the toast.

  “Would you like some breakfast?” she asked. “I’m making some for Robbie. I can put more bread in the machine for you.”

  My stomach had rumbled last night, so I said, “Sure. Yeah.”

  And she did, putting two pieces in before pushing the lever down. Then she picked up the plate with Robbie’s toast and the orange juice.

  “Be right back for my coffee,” she said over her shoulder as she left.

  She took him his food. She was coming back for her coffee, and me? I buttered my own toast.

  “I know you snuck out last night. I saw you.”

  My door was open an inch, and Robbie was there. I would’ve teased him about being a creeper except for the sadness, yearning, and caution that filled his eyes.

  “Hey, kiddo.” I was at my desk and slid the chair over enough to toe open the door. “You come around these parts often?”

  A soft giggle was my reward, and he came in, bouncing to a seat on the bed. His eyes calmed.

  “So you caught me, huh?” I smiled, leaning back in my chair. “What do I owe you? You didn’t rat me out to Mom and Dad.”

  He rested his hands next to his legs and lifted his shoulders. “You were with Ryan. I knew you were safe.”

  “Yeah?”

  His cheeks pinked, and he looked down at his lap. “Ryan’s cool.”

  “I agree.”

  “Did you sleep together again?”

  For a moment, I had no words. It sounded wrong, that sentence coming from my eleven-year-old brother.

  “Uh . . . what?”

  “Sleeping next to him helps you sleep. I overheard at the Jensens’ house, and I assumed there was a reason you were in his bed.” He lifted his hands, folding them in his lap. “Is that why you left last night? So you could sleep?”

  He thought I left to sleep. Then again, maybe he was right. It wasn’t about seeing Ryan or sneaking out and giving a silent middle finger to my parents. I sighed. Robbie was too young to deal with any of this—with Willow’s decisions or mine.

  “Forget about me. How’re you doing?”

  He’d been kicking his feet back and forth, but he paused at my question. He looked away. “I’m fine.”

  “Hey.” I scooted my chair closer and tapped on his knee. “I mean it. How are you?”

  He looked back, and my heart was almost ripped out. Unshed tears hung on his lashes.

  “I’m fine.” His voice trembled.

  We’d been there for each other before the funeral, during the funeral, and I’d like to say afterward, but I couldn’t. Since we’d come back to Portside, I’d shut down. Literally. Going to see Ryan last night had been almost the first thing I’d done besides going from my bedroom to the kitchen or bathroom. Seeing his tears made me want to curse myself.

  “Hey.” I gentled my voice even more. “If you need anything, you can come to me. You know that, right?”

  “Where’d you go?”

  “We went to the movies.”

  “Where’d you sleep? At Ryan’s?”

  “I . . .” The words were stuck in my mouth. He looked at me, completely innocent and vulnerable, and I contemplated lying to him. That was what it was. Not telling the truth was a lie.

  I shook my head. “We came home. I was going to come in, but we snuck into his friend’s house. He lives next door to us.”

  “And you slept there?”

  I nodded.

  “Good. You look better today. And I didn’t hear you crying last night.”

  “I didn’t know you could hear me.”

  He bobbed his head and jumped up from my bed. I could see his mind whirling. He was already thinking about whatever he would do next in his room, and he headed for the door.

  “You cry every night. I’m glad you didn’t last night.” He pulled open my door. “You should do that every night.” And then he was gone.

  I could’ve looked down to see my beating heart at my feet. He’d ripped me open. Again.

  Counseling Session Two

  “Hello, Mackenzie. It’s been a while since our last meeting. Would you like to talk today?”

  “No.”

  Chapter Eight

  It was almost another month before I saw Ryan again.

  He traveled with his family and then went to New York to see his grandparents. He was all over, including a wilderness camp. We texted back and forth, but when he was finally home, my parents shipped me off to Arizona. It was supposed to be four days where I’d heal with my friends, but some major miscommunication happened somewhere between the parents. They set it up, but the friends I used to cry with, laugh with, and who I thought had my back didn’t show up. Strangers did.

  Zoe and Gianna spent most of the time talking to each other, laughing over someone’s tweet, and they forgot I was there. No joke. I was watching television in Gianna’s basement when I heard the door shut upstairs, and the house was quiet. They’d gone. I checked on social media and saw they were at the community pool, but I wasn’t going to get mad. I mean, seriously. Fighting with Erin was fun. She was someone I hadn’t known since second grade. She was someone I
hadn’t shared chain letters with or plotted with on how to get even with Mia Gillespie in fourth grade when she stole Zoe’s boyfriend.

  Erin was easy. There was nothing emotional there, but my two old best friends—too much history.

  Instead, I booked my own flight back home and ordered a car.

  It was close to midnight when I texted Ryan, telling him I was outside his house. The driver’s taillights were disappearing when he came out the front door.

  “Hey.” Dressed in lounge pants and a soft shirt, he folded his arms over his chest, tucking his hands under his arms. He eyed my small suitcase. “You really came straight from the airport?”

  “Was this stupid?” A normal girl might’ve had that thought in her head. But my head? There wasn’t enough room for second thoughts in there. I gestured to his house. “Should I go home?”

  “No.” He’d hunched over a little but straightened and shook his head. “No. It’s fine. Seriously.” He went back to eyeing my luggage. “I thought you were joking about the airport. I could’ve picked you up.”

  “Oh.” That meant a lot. “No, this is fine. Simple. No fuss. That’s how I roll these days.”

  He fought back a grin. “Except when we break into my buddy’s house to spend the night, right?”

  I laughed. “Except for that.”

  “Come on.” He jerked his head toward the house before reaching for my suitcase. “My mom has book club tonight, which is aka wine night, and Peach is at Erin’s house.”

  “Your dad?” I had to admit it felt nice as I stepped inside, warm and cozy. I hadn’t known how cold I was until then.

  Ryan closed the door behind me, locking it. “He’s downstairs watching the baseball game. He DVR-ed it, and trust me, by the time it’s done, he’ll be a full case in. He’ll either sleep down there or head straight to bed. I’ve had friends over before when it’s a baseball night for him, and he had no clue.” He stepped around me, moving quietly. “You want something before heading up?”

  I fought back the smile this time. “Going right to it, huh?”

  He glanced back, and his eyes darkened. “You know what I mean.”

  “I do.” I shook my head. “And I’m good.” My stomach rumbled, which makes Ryan’s eyebrows rise. “You sure? Your stomach says otherwise.”

  Thinking about it, I didn’t know when I’d last eaten.

  I ate breakfast Thursday morning. My mom drove me to the airport two hours later. There was a meal offered on the plane, but I didn’t eat it. Gianna’s mom picked me up, and we went to a pizza place. I picked at a slice, but I couldn’t bring myself to chew it and digest it.

  Zoe and Gianna had eaten popcorn that night while we watched movies. They’d laughed. I’d curled in a blanket and tried to sleep.

  Then this morning, I had orange juice and coffee. That was right. Zoe and Gianna went to the coffee shop and brought back bagels and lattes. I had one of the lattes. Lunch was licorice for them, which Gianna’s mom didn’t approve of. She made a big salad, and the other two nibbled on it, but they were too full from licorice.

  And this afternoon they’d left me.

  I hadn’t eaten on the plane again, so it had been almost two days.

  I shrugged. “Maybe a drink?”

  He clipped his head in a nod. “Got it.” We went upstairs first, and he stowed my luggage in his room before returning to the kitchen. I went into his bathroom, grateful it was attached to his room, and by the time I’d cleaned up and felt a little refreshed, he was back, carrying a glass in each hand and a bag of chips in his mouth.

  “Here.” I started to take the bag, but he shook his head and held up one of the glasses. I took that instead, and as soon as I did, he opened his mouth.

  The bag of chips fell to the bed and he took a sip from his own glass. “Mmmm . . .” He winked. “Rum and Coke. Good stuff, right?” He clinked his glass to mine and then settled on his bed, moving back to rest against the wall. The chips went on the stand next to him, along with his drink after a second good sip.

  He had a loveseat against the other wall in his room, and I perched there. Fuck. This drink was good. I craned my head back, staring at it. “I could down this whole thing in two seconds.”

  “So do it.” He opened the chips and popped a couple in his mouth. Grinning at me, he added, “Not to tread where you might not want me, but I’d think you’d want to pass this year in a drunken haze. I would.”

  Yeah. I drank a third of it before leaning back against the couch. “It isn’t my style.”

  It would’ve been Willow’s, though. She would’ve drank, partied, and become a nympho if I’d been the one . . .

  My throat burned, and I took another long drink. Shit. This really was good. Two more sips, and I’d need a refill.

  I eyed Ryan over the top. “You aren’t the type to take advantage of me, are you?”

  He chuckled. “Nah.” He winked. “But I might graze the side of your boob when we’re sleeping later.”

  I laughed and stopped immediately.

  Shit. The last time I’d laughed, the last time I’d smiled, had been with him—not my old friends—or ex friends—and not anyone else. Just Ryan.

  “Does it get better?” The question was out before I could take it back.

  Ryan was quiet, holding my gaze across the room, and then he sighed. “I think it has to, at some point.”

  God. I hoped so.

  Pain I didn’t want to feel or acknowledge rose in my throat. It threatened to choke me, but I sat there. I waited, and it passed. I could breathe again a second later.

  I finished my drink.

  Ryan scooted forward, handing his glass over. “Here, take mine.”

  “It’s yours.”

  He shrugged, eating more chips. “I’ll down a beer later, maybe. Trust me. It’s fine.”

  I took the glass, feeling his fingers on mine for a moment, and a warm and cozy sensation settled over me. It was the same tingle I’d felt when I had stepped into his home. Everything else was flat, black and white, gray, dull, cold, and then I went to him, and it felt like color was turned on.

  I could feel hunger again, thirst again. I remembered it was normal to feel warmth.

  Feeling the choking come back up my throat, I turned off my thoughts. Life was easier that way.

  “You’re staying here tonight, right?” Ryan asked.

  “Hmmm?” My shoulders sagged in relief. Thank you, Distraction.

  He gazed around his room. “You’re sleeping here. That’s why you came, right?”

  I nodded. “If that’s okay with you?”

  A slow and wicked grin spread over his face. His eyes darkened, falling to my lips. “I’m a nice guy and all, but I’m not that nice, and especially lately, so trust me when I say this. You can sleep here any time you want.” His head leaned forward, his eyes almost digging into me. “That offer doesn’t go to anyone except you.”

  The back of my neck warmed. I almost felt tongue-tied. “Thank you, and yes, that’s the plan.”

  “But what about your folks? Won’t your friends or their parents say something when they realize you skipped town?”

  I shook my head, feeling the booze loosening me up. “I left a note for Gi’s parents, but that was it. I doubt they’ll even notice till tomorrow morning.”

  “You serious?”

  I nodded. I should’ve felt sad about that. I felt relief.

  “Gi and Zoe didn’t want me there. I knew it. They knew it. The parents didn’t care, but my friends have moved on. They have new lives.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  Maybe. I drank half of Ryan’s drink instead of caring. “They loved Willow too. They were my best friends, but Willow and I were a package deal. I was friends with her friends.” I gestured to my face. “You weren’t at the funeral. It’s easier to forget Willow than to mourn her.” I remembered the disgust I saw on Duke’s face. “Her boyfriend couldn’t get out of there fast enough. He had his hands all over Serena, Wi
llow’s best friend.”

  “Yeah. Well . . .” Ryan balled up the bag of chips and tossed it across the room. It landed on the desk next to me. “People suck. Trust me. I get it.” He stood, pointing to my glass. “I’ll bring the ingredients. We can mix drinks till we pass out, huh?”

  He left, so he didn’t see my response.

  I was smiling so damn hard, and I wasn’t even sure why. All I knew was that I was happy when he came back. I could relax in this room with him, and I laughed until we did exactly what he said.

  We passed out around three in the morning, after I drank myself into oblivion.

  It was the best night I’d had in a long while.

  Chapter Nine

  I woke the next morning around eight.

  I would’ve freaked, but Ryan rolled over, put his arm over me, and tugged me in for a side-hug. “No one’s here,” he murmured. “Trust me. We’re good.”

  He was right. Even two hours later, the latest I allowed us to sleep, no one was around.

  “My dad golfs on Saturdays.”

  “What about your mom? Peach?”

  He yawned, raking a hand through his hair as he padded to the bathroom. “Mom’s probably sleeping. Her book club doesn’t mess around. When they drink, they drink.” I heard the shower turn on, and he yelled over it, “And gossip. They wine hard and gossip hard.”

  I stood, edging to the opened door. I almost gulped, but he didn’t seem to care. This was a different level of intimacy. Then again, maybe it was because we’d slept together. Yeah. That was it. Either way, I was feeling nerves and flutters in my stomach that I didn’t recognize. I’d never felt like that. Ever.

  “What about your sister?” I asked, not moving inside the bathroom.

  Ryan looked over, his hair getting mashed down from the water, and he gave me a side-grin.

  God. A whole new level of flutters exploded in my gut at that sight.

  The shower doors were frosted, so I couldn’t see anything from his chest down. But I could see the silhouette of his body, and I think that was enough. My whole neck and face were getting warm now.