“I know, and I love you for it,” I replied, feeling the deep gaze of his eyes settle on mine. Needing to be closer to him, I walked out of the kitchen and walked into his arms at the counter where he sat.
He pulled me into his large frame, where the world felt safe and measurable again.
“I do make a mean cup of coffee,” I said, my lips curving into a smile.
His fingers cupped my chin, tilting it toward his dark brown eyes.
“I know. Why do you think I kept coming back every damn day? It wasn’t your charming personality.”
“I thought it was my ass,” I laughed, shaking it as his hands closed around each cheek and squeezed.
“Ah yes. The ass of a porn star and the mouth of a mime. No matter how hard I tried, I could never get you to talk to me.”
“Such a sweet talker, and besides—I was told to never speak to strange men,” I said, quickly hating myself for saying it. My face slipped slightly as my stomach turned, rolling and churning as my mind replayed unwanted memories from my past.
I never, ever want to see you speaking to another man again. Do you understand me, Everly?
The words rolled around in my head as I tried to shake them out. In the last two years of my life, I’d had a thousand moments like this. A glance, a turn of phrase—anything could bring them on. I’d learned to recognize the symptoms and process the reaction quickly.
So quickly that Ryan didn’t even seem to notice anymore.
“Well,” he said, grinning, his hands slipping underneath my shirt, “I finally did wear you down. And now you’re mine.”
A weak smile spread across my lips, seconds before his mouth touched mine.
No matter how much he loved me.
No matter how much I loved him in return.
I would never, ever belong to another person.
For as long as I lived.
* * *
The movie had been long forgotten, as had our clothes.
They were strung out all over the apartment, leaving a trail toward the bedroom. Little breadcrumbs of debauchery.
“Hey, it’s still early; do you want to order a pizza?” Ryan yelled from the shower as I took a long breath and snuggled deeper into the covers on our bed.
“Does it require me to get out of this bed?” I whined, moving my legs back and forth against the smooth sheets. Ryan always said it looked like I was swimming in bed when I did this.
Growing up, I never had nice sheets. Hell, sometimes there were foster homes that didn’t even give me sheets—just a blanket and a dirty bare mattress.
Luxuries like Egyptian cotton sheets were things I would never grow accustomed to, no matter how many times my legs touched them. Every night, I’d sink into bed and run my legs back and forth against the smoothness, loving the way it felt against my skin.
Like Ryan, it brought me peace and made me feel safe—two things I’d struggled with the majority of my life.
“Please, babe. I’m hungry. So very, very hungry,” he said, sticking his head out the door of the bathroom. His lips turned downward, making him look years younger. I laughed, unable to resist his boyish charm.
“Okay, okay,” I said, stretching one last time, before I rose to grab my robe.
“On second thought, I might need to work off a few more calories first,” he said, stepping out of the bathroom in just a towel. His tanned skin was slick and wet from the shower, and I couldn’t help but lick my lips as I watched a tiny drop of water skate down his chiseled chest.
Who knew nerds could be so hot?
His gaze turned heated as he stalked forward and I watched the towel drop to the floor. I stepped backward, feeling the edge of the bed hit the backs of my knees.
Our bodies met once more as his hand cupped the back of my head, tilting it upward. “I love you, Everly. I love you so much,” he whispered, touching his lips to mine. I moaned into the kiss, feeling every hard inch of him press into me.
Always aware of my needs, he was gentle as he lowered me to the bed. As my head touched the pillow, I heard the sounds of a cell phone ringing throughout the apartment.
Ryan’s head dipped forward, shaking back and forth.
“Just ignore it,” he said.
I was already pushing at his shoulders, begging him to let me answer it.
“It can’t be that important, Ev,” he said, his eyes dancing with amusement. “I’m right here.”
I rolled my eyes, grabbing my robe as I raced to the living room.
“It could be Sarah,” I said. “She had her first rehearsal tonight.”
I picked up the phone, not recognizing the number, and paused.
“Babe,” Ryan said, standing in the doorway of our room. “Come back to bed. Whatever it is can wait.”
I didn’t listen. Instead, I answered and heard the words I had begged God to never allow to come true.