“I’ve missed this,” he says, his tone lulling and deep. “You have no idea how much.”
No cynical inner voice whispers insults into my ear. No pangs of doubt or embarrassment scratch under my skin. My mind goes quiet. Blissfully quiet.
“I’ve missed this, too.” I’m speaking in a breathy kind of voice that I’ve only ever written about.
One of his hands moves to graze the curve of my waist while the other brushes up along my throat. His thumb rests just under my jaw to tilt my face upwards.
“We should stop,” he says, even though he keeps on touching me.
“Then stop,” I whisper.
He swallows but doesn’t move. His hand grips my waist tighter.
I go up on the tips of my toes and brush my lips against his. He pulls back an inch with a shallow breath and I drink it in. It’s not enough. I’m impatient and agitated, a match scratching against a rough surface, trying to spark. I kiss him again, increasing the pressure. Ryan lets out something between a sigh and growl as he drags me forward, squeezing our bodies impossibly closer. I gasp and his tongue sweeps into my mouth. My stomach flips in all the right ways. I can’t believe we used to do this all the time.
A minute passes but the sensations only get stronger. I want to melt into him. I feel like I might. His right hand moves from my neck to my breast as he kisses me with a hunger I’m just starting to remember. I’m as starved as him. I arch my back into his touch, feeling myself inching closer to a familiar precipice despite being fully clothed. We’re both panting when I lean back a minute later, my eyes searching his.
And just like that, it’s over.
Ryan steps back, suddenly holding me at arm’s length, and the absence of his body heat makes the room unbearably cold. I almost shudder from the lack of it.
“I’m sorry,” he quickly says. He’s breathing like he just ran a mile while trying to pretend that he didn’t. “I’m sorry, I...” He doesn’t finish his sentence. His hands slowly fall away from me and a dazed expression remains on my face as I wait for him to offer some kind of reassurance. Anything. Nothing comes.
I step back as best I can on my wobbly legs. “I didn’t mean to do that,” I find myself saying. “I don’t know why I did that.”
“No, that was my fault. I got carried away.”
I nod my head and Ryan looks around the room, looks everywhere except at me. I get a sinking feeling in my gut but I hide it well.
When he finally looks at me, he’s resigned and almost disappointed. “I guess we should get some sleep.”
What in the actual hell is happening?
“Yeah. Okay, good night.”
I begin to turn around when I hear, “Sullivan, wait a second.”
I pause, again hoping for some sense clarity. “What?” I ask.
He just keeps looking at me, saying nothing. I’m not convinced he knows why he asked me to wait. Silence stretches wider and thicker between us until his cell phone starts to ring on the kitchen table. I move towards it, planning on handing it to him when he steps in front of me.
“It’s okay, I’ll get it,” he says. I watch as he picks it up and silences it before sliding it into his pocket. Feeling more awkward with each passing moment, I turn around and head for my bedroom.
“Thank you for tonight. For dinner,” Ryan says to my back.
I pause in the doorway but don’t look at him again. “You’re welcome. See you tomorrow.” I go directly into my room and shut the door, holding it closed and leaning forward, too shaken to move.
That was not a drill.
Ryan told me he missed me. I kissed him. He kissed me back, and then it was like nothing happened.
But it did happen.
I begin to feel oddly lethargic and change into my pajamas a couple minutes later, sneaking outside and moving in and out of the bathroom like a ghost to avoid waking Duke or seeing Ryan. Back in my room, I crawl into bed and pull the sheets up all around me as I roll onto my side to face the window. I nuzzle into my ice-cold pillow and allow one quick, sleepy smile as I almost immediately drift off to sleep.
11
I pick up the small piece of paper from my coffee table for the third time, still annoyed by its contents as I read it again.
Kara,
I took Duke for a walk before I left so he won’t need another until I get home. I’ll be back by two. Thanks.
—Ryan
Such a sweet love note. I toss it into the trash as I go into the kitchen, feeling slightly appeased when I see the new scone that’s waiting for me on the counter. I scoop it out of the bag and gobble down half of it. Stress eating is warranted in this situation.
Every day, Ryan is more and more of a contradiction. He’s mad at me, but he wants to spend time with me. He kisses me, and then pushes me away. He disappears this morning, but leaves me an edible reminder of how considerate he can be.
I move to the stove, ready to pour myself a much-needed cup of tea, when a cell phone alert from the front desk goes off. I put down my favorite mug that has Her Ladyship painted on the side and answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Ms. Sullivan. Your sister is here to see you.”
“Oh. Great, thanks, Nick.”
I hang up but keep the phone in my hand. I’m surprised Jen is here. She usually never comes into the city anymore. I’m excited to see her, though...until I remember that Duke is currently sleeping on my bed.
Crap!
I run into my bedroom and look down at the cumbersome dog that’s lounging on my pillows like he’s Cleopatra. Please, please let him fall asleep. I quickly swipe open my phone and
