Chapter 26
Ryan
W hen I was trying to mope and wallow, I didn’t very much appreciate the way Stella barged her way into the hotel room, even with a bag of much-delayed takeout slung under her arm.
“Ryan—what the hell are you doing here?” she blurted, and I shot her a look, turning off my e-reader and setting it down next to the armchair.
“We booked the same room, Stella. In case you didn’t remember volunteering to sleep on my sofa.”
“She’s still here?” That one was Allison’s voice, from out in the hallway, and I sat up taller, eyebrows high as Allison leaned into the room too. “Why are you still here?”
“What—” I put my hands up. “You two can get your own hotel room instead of trying to gaslight me out of this one!”
“Did you not see—” Stella took out her phone, marching across the room, and when I reached for the bag of food, she snatched it away. “Oh my god, focus.”
“You said you were picking up food for us , not for you and your girlfriend—”
She shoved her phone in my face, close enough I flinched to avoid getting clobbered. My own article, the update I’d just released. And then underneath it, the top comment, crowded with dozens of replies, was a message tagged by Brooklyn.
I’m not going to be able to stop thinking about you either.
The world stopped turning around me, the screen the only thing that existed.
My stomach dropped out, a dizzy sensation settling in, and I hazily took the phone from her hands, not even realizing I was commandeering her phone until I had it—I didn’t care—I scrolled through, my chest tight, reading the message. The other comments underneath, gushing about romance. Oh, god. I didn’t think my readers were so swoony. Should I have been embarrassed?
“She’s waiting for you,” Stella said quietly, and my throat tightened, looking up at her, a protest dying on my lips, looking back down at my phone.
“But she’s…”
“She’s what? Everything you’ve ever wanted?”
I swallowed, hard, reading the message again. She’d asked. Wasn’t that everything I’d been waiting for?
I flicked my gaze up, nervous, vulnerable, looking at her, back to where Allison hung by the door. Allison, who alternated between looking expectantly at me, hoping, and looking at Stella like she was the whole world.
“What are you doing?” I said quietly, looking back at Stella, and she picked up on what I meant—her expression softened, and she took the phone back.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I… I’m not sure. But I don’t want to go back. I’m on summer vacation anyway. What does it matter if I go back or stay here for it? I know—there’s my whole life back there and everything, but—but I want to see what’s here. If I spend a little more time here.”
She always did just… take a look, decide right away what she wanted, dive right in. She and Allison were still only just getting to know each other. But what was stopping her from leaving later if it didn’t work? What was stopping her from doing what felt right now, and changing course later if she needed to?
What was stopping me?
Oh, god, I wasn’t doing this. I wasn’t going to spend my time glazed over while working, thinking about Brooklyn every time my mind had a spare moment to wander, always wondering what life would look like if I’d tried. I wanted to see for myself.
I stood up on shaky footing, my pulse pounding, and my voice was wobbly as I said, “You can—go ahead and use the hotel room all you like, I’m—”
“Shut up and go,” she laughed, and I did. Barely managed to pull myself together enough to be seen in public, stumbling out the door, wondering what the hell I was doing and what had gotten into me—wondering what the hell I’d been doing that had convinced me not to do this earlier. I didn’t care. I ran, practically threw myself into the rental car, and I didn’t have one conscious thought on the whole drive over to Brooklyn’s house, pulling up to the courtyard next to her car where the palm trees rocked and rustled in the ocean wind.
I went fumbling out of the door with my heart in my mouth, down the path until I kicked off my loafers and stumbled across cool sand, the ocean breeze salty on my lips and the sand slipping between my toes. Ran through the milky white glow of lanterns along the old wood fence at the top of the beach strand, and I slowed to a stop in front of where Brooklyn Sterling was such a romantic sight, standing up from the weathered wood table by the rocks overlooking the water, cast in a pale moonlight glow as she turned to me with a gleam in her eyes.
She looked at me like we were the only two people in the world. At that moment, I thought maybe we were.
“Jet-setter like you must miss flights all the time,” she said playfully, and I felt my breath catch. I’d said goodbye to the sound of her voice once before, and I’d thought she’d said the last words that I’d ever hear in that voice. I wasn’t making it saying goodbye to that sound a second time.
“You could have texted,” I laughed, my voice thick, tears stinging my eyes. Crying over a girl. I guess I was back in high school. I didn’t mind. “What’s with the dramatic stunt?”
She smiled wider, stepping closer to me, and I felt my chest ache for her as she reached a hand out, caressing my cheek. “Calling me out for the dramatic stunt when you released a whole article gushing to the world about me…”
“I… I regret nothing,” I laughed thickly, going to wipe a tear away. Brooklyn got to it first, the touch of her thumb tender as she brushed it away. “I just… I couldn’t bear letting everything that we’d done… disappear. I wanted it to exist. Physically.”
She looked down, her expression strained. “Ryan… you know you’re too good to me. I’m just another random person on the trail of your adventures, going around the world, making it a better place. I’m just the bartender.”
Dammit. To think I’d almost left—almost left Brooklyn to keep telling herself that forever. To keep going on mentally consigning herself to irrelevance when she was such a powerful, beautiful person, a… a masterpiece of a human being. That was so damn corny of me. I didn’t even care anymore. I cupped my hands on her cheeks, the wind blowing her jacket against me, sand sweeping over my bare feet, as I took in every inch of her face that I could in the moonlight.
“You’re not just anything, Brooklyn,” I whispered. “You’re the woman who would have lived forever in my memories if I’d left it at that. But I don’t… I don’t want to leave it at that. I like you. So much. I’ve loved every second we’ve gotten together. I’ve loved getting to know who you are. I’ve loved getting to know who I am. I like the person I am when I’m with you, and I just… god, but you’re so beautiful.”
She laughed, a thick and wet sound, pursing her lips through a smile, clearly trying not to cry. Because she just wanted me to be the only one out here crying. Sure. The jerk. “Sorry for getting all your readers cheering for us to get together.”
I choked on a laugh. “They don’t know the half of it,” I said. “Also—when did you even sign up?”
“Sneakily, that time you went off to meet with your family… I went and stalked all your posts.”
“You were planning on just reading all my posts forever?”
“Wouldn’t you, if I had something like that?”
“Ugh. Yes.” I let out a soft sigh, squeezing my hand on her arm. “Brooklyn… I know this is a little wild. Maybe a lot. But I don’t want to say goodbye to this. To us. Can you… can we… can we make this work? I’m always traveling. It doesn’t matter where my home base of operations is. I’ll have to be away a lot of the time too, but there’s no reason this can’t be a place I keep coming back to—”
“Babe,” she laugh-whispered, stroking my cheek. “You don’t even have to ask. That spot you like on the terrace would always have been yours even if you never came back.”
My heart caught, a thick feeling in my throat, head spinning, just… disbelief. Amazement. “That’s so cute,” I laughed, and she looked past me, her gaze uncharacteristically shy.
“I’m not good at this whole, uh… you know…”
“Being serious.”
“This whole being serious thing. Yeah.”
“None of us are good at anything until we do it. Being serious doesn’t have to look different. It can look like what we’ve been doing. Just… having a really, really good time together. And figuring out what comes next.”
She smiled sweetly, eyes crinkling, the first tears budding there in the corners. Because apparently she’d finally decided to join me in crying on the beach. Took her long enough. “Tell me you can still get a refund on that new flight you scheduled.”
“Still within the refund window, yeah,” I laughed, bubbling up uncontrollably. She rested her forehead on mine.
“Stay at my place tonight. There’s leftover pizza.”
“Pizza? That’s what we’re going with? You’ve upended my entire life in a week, changed my family, my relationship, the trajectory of my career and my future, and I’m putting everything on the line for more time with you, running into your arms, and you’re trying to lure me in with pizza? ”
Her eyes sparkled. “What, you don’t want it?”
“No, well, yeah, I do.” I laughed, and I threw my arms around her neck, and I kissed her like nothing else would ever matter. “I do,” I said, when I parted, hovering just short of her lips. “I mean… brick pizza oven. Built by hand by a hot woman. I can’t pretend I’m not affected.”
“Exactly why I built it.” She paused. “Stella and Allison are, uh… they’re not coming around, are they?”
“I doubt it. They showed up in Stella’s and my hotel room together to tell me about your message and to tell me to get the fuck out, so… I imagine they’re… busy.”
“Good. Because Allison would absolutely come knocking for some of that leftover pizza or something, and if you’re not too exhausted from fighting with your family, rescheduling travel, upending your life, and running across the island to find me, I want to take you back to the house and make love to you.”
Ah, god. Having the most beautiful and the sexiest woman I’d ever met talk about taking me back to her beach house to make love already sounded like paradise even if she took the delicious food out of the equation. I laughed, a spontaneous thing bubbling up out of me, and I kissed her again, practically glowing. “That’s a tempting offer,” I said. “So, pizza first, or second?”
“First. Of course. You’ve got to get a girl dinner first.”
“Oh, good. A proper romantic, then.” I laughed, pulling out my phone. “Let’s take a picture together. I think a lot of people want to know how this went. I can crop out your face, if you like.”
She laughed, eyes sparkling, as she wrapped her arms around my waist from behind, pressing the side of her face against mine. “Go for it,” she said. “I’m not shy about staking my claim on you very publicly.”
“Okay, kind of sexy.” I felt like a giggly teenage girl all over again, drunk on the thought, the feeling, that we could do this as much as we liked—that tomorrow could be the same, the day after—but I scowled when I opened the phone and saw our faces as two dark, blurred outlines. “Er… maybe we should go somewhere with better light.”
She took me back up to the house, where we took pictures on the terrace that actually showed our faces with the ocean in the background, and I felt giddy as I edited the post with an update to let everyone know I’d be working from my little vacation retreat for a bit longer still, just in time for Brooklyn to bring food upstairs. Sat me down in my spot—the seat in the corner that I hadn’t even realized would have forever been my spot even if I’d left—and gushed with Brooklyn like it was the start of everything, like the world was new.
And when we finished the food, she slid over to the spot next to me, pulling me up against her, and she kissed me—soft, sweet, slow, like the rolling of the ocean waves against the sand below the house. A million perfect, romantic touches, caressing my cheek, fingers curling over my jawline, tracing me like she wanted to memorize every inch of me.
“I’m glad you came back,” she whispered, kissing her way to whisper in my ear. I bit my lip, a shiver running down my spine.
“Mm…”
“I’d have had the saddest masturbation session in the world if you hadn’t.”
I snorted, collapsing into her. “Well, we can’t have that.”
“I’m just saying, we’ve been having sex practically every morning, so I’d wake up wanting to touch you and just have to mope while I do it myself…”
I slipped a hand to her waist, trailing down to touch her thigh, as I pressed a kiss along the line of her jaw. “No need,” I whispered. “I did tell you that you could just keep me around and have all the sex with me that you want…”
“Mm. A very good offer. I might just take you up on that,” she said, teasing a hand under my shirt, and it felt so impossibly perfect, the spark of heat dancing up from where she touched me. Not urgent, not rushing.
“Do you want to… go inside?” I whispered, tracing my fingertips along the band of her pants, and she laughed, low and murky, her lips against my skin.
“Not really,” she said softly. “You love the ocean. Never fantasized about making love by the waves?”
“Oh, god.” I closed my eyes, resting my head against her shoulder as she slipped her hand higher under my shirt, fingers exploring higher until she cupped my bra. Her thumb working softly against my nipple through the fabric… “Someone’s going to see us if we do this,” I murmured, not really fighting it. She laughed.
“We’re way out here. The only person who comes this way is Allison, and she’s busy right now.” She paused. “Besides, even if she did come this way, well… she knows what she’s getting into. And she knows what we get into.”
“God. Frankly, if it’s you touching me, I don’t really even care. Mm…” I let my body move for me, my hand dipping down to caress the firm musculature of Brooklyn’s thighs, and the sound of her breath catching when I did was so indescribably sexy—knowing I had her so turned on—I couldn’t believe I got to do these things with her.
“Ryan,” she whispered, slipping her hand into my bra, finding my nipple and teasing over it in the circular patterns that always drove me out of my mind. “Take your pants off, please.”
I didn’t even think—hands worked quickly undoing my pants, tugging them down my legs, kicking them off just in time for Brooklyn to take over, her hand falling on my bare thigh and spreading my legs wide, leaning me back against the railing as I moaned softly, the touch of her fingertips close to my underwear sending electricity through me.
“God, you’re so pretty,” she whispered, settling in between my legs, fingers trailing up higher, higher, until—achingly—she found me at last, caressing up along the front of my underwear. I heard my breath hitch, a sound caught in my throat, as her fingers moved slowly, gently, over the stained fabric. “It’s so sexy seeing you feel good, Ryan.”
“I’ve never known anyone could turn me on so easily,” I laughed hazily, and she smiled wider, leaning in and pressing a kiss against the base of my neck as she moved her hand up and slipped it down into my underwear—I arched against her with a gasp at the touch, and she caught me by the lips, pulling me into a kiss as her fingers circled tightly over my clit.
It wasn’t long before she had my underwear gone too, and I didn’t care how obscene it was, sitting out here in the open air like this wearing only my shirt—I spread my legs wide, thighs stained with my wetness, as Brooklyn shimmied out of her own bottoms and shifted onto my lap, her wetness pressing against my thigh as she worked her fingers over my clit, her tongue slipping into my mouth. Dirty and risky up here on the terrace, Brooklyn grinding her hips against my thigh while her fingers worked me relentlessly, but at the same time it was so achingly beautiful, so romantic and so perfect, giving myself over to her, gripping her by the hips and encouraging her rocking against me, mutual pleasure building up as the two of us worked into a feverish pitch, and Brooklyn broke off from the kiss to gasp, “Fuck, Ryan, I’m going to come on you—on your pretty body—”
“God, please, yes—I’m close, too—”
“That’s so fucking hot,” she groaned, picking up the pace, fingers meltingly good against my clit, sending pleasure flooding through me. “Want you to come for me, babe—come while I play with your perfect pussy—”
I gripped my hands tighter against her, rocking her hips on my thigh, grinding against her wetness, as she pushed me over the edge—I went with a cry, barely muffled enough for how public we were right now, and Brooklyn gave herself over too, collapsing against me as the two of us moved together, orgasm explosive in all of my senses until I softened, melted, into her at the same time she did into me, looking at me with that gentle gaze of total adoration.
“Brooklyn…”
“Do you think we were too loud?”
I laughed breathlessly, luxuriating in the way she kept her hand against me, still working slowly, gently, just short of overstimulation. “I… don’t care.”
“Okay, yeah, me neither. God, you’re so beautiful.”
I slipped my hands up, cupping her face, and I whispered, “You too, Brooklyn. The most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”
I kissed her, softly, sweetly, adoring in every way, and her eyes shone as she met mine, and said, softly, “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Mm. Better than sad masturbation, I assume.”
She laughed shortly. “Much. Yeah, lots better. Are you done, or do I get to drop down here and lick your pussy?”
“Wow. Um…” I cleared my throat. “I think I need, like, a glass of water first. And then that sounds great.”
She laughed, planting another kiss against me before she stood up, a little wobbly. “I will be right back with that. You keep your cute ass right there and wait for me.”
Oh, I’d wait for her. And look at her cute ass, too, while she was walking.
I tilted my head back to look out over the water—at the old life that lay somewhere beyond it—and I laughed. To myself, to the world. Didn’t matter.
Not half bad, as far as vacations went.