Chapter Twenty-Three - Rachel
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Rachel
The kids don’t protest when I bring them in to get ready for bed. They even spare me the usual arguments about why they should stay up longer, and they each fall asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow.
I make my way to the back deck. I don’t particularly want to clean the mess tonight, but I definitely won’t want to deal with it in the morning, so I may as well get it over with.
When I get outside, the first thing I notice is that the mess is gone. The second is that Ryder sits on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water. He doesn’t turn at my entrance, but I know he can sense me.
The same way I can always sense him.
I slide off my heels and go to him, not caring that my dress meets the wet concrete as I sit and dip my feet in the warm water.
“If you’re coming to lecture me about bedtimes, you should know they both promised not to be assholes tomorrow.”
“One late night won’t kill them,” I say, and Ryder looks at me with a raised brow. I shrug. “As long as late pool nights don’t become a habit, I don’t mind. They seemed to have a lot of fun.”
What I don’t tell Ryder is that it’s difficult to be angry after seeing how happy the three of them were all playing together in the pool. It’s a memory the kids—and I—won’t soon forget.
“How was your date?” Ryder asks, and that last word has an icy bite.
I think very carefully before answering him. It didn't end well since Jacob called me out for still having feelings for Ryder, but technically, the date itself went great.
“It was nice,” I say, with as little expression as possible.
I hope he won’t push it and will leave my love life alone for once, but I should’ve known better.
“Just nice?”
“Mm-hm.”
“Interesting,” he says, and I can hear the knowing smile.
I look to scowl at him, but my eyes don’t go to his face. They go to the uncovered chest that I’ve done an excellent job of ignoring so far. It’s been years since I’ve been this close to Ryder when he’s shirtless. Once upon a time, it was an everyday luxury—one that I took for granted.
His eyes on me are a flame, heating my skin, and the growing smile on his lips is a taunt that I pretend to ignore.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask as I look away.
“I’m not sure any great love story ever started with just nice.”
“And what would you know about great love stories?”
His chuckle hits places inside me that it shouldn’t. “I know that there should be more passion than just nice.”
“Maybe there was,” I say with a slight tilt to my head. I didn’t come out here to antagonize him, but if he’s going to be a jerk, I won’t sit here and take it. “Maybe it was the most passionate I’ve ever felt.”
“It wasn’t,” he says with no hesitation and all the confidence in the world.
I ignore him. “Maybe we talked and laughed all night. Maybe he had one hand just a little too low on my back. Maybe he pressed me up against his car and kissed me. Maybe we barely made it into his back seat before he—”
One second, I’m sitting on the edge of the pool, and the next, every nerve in my body is on hyperdrive as I plunge into the water.
It soaks through my dress in an instant, and the fabric clings to me like a second skin.
My makeup has to be running down my face, and my hair must be a mess as I splash to the surface.
“What the hell, Ryder!” I shout once I break the waterline. When I wipe the water from my eyes, I only see his devilish smile before the splash of him jumping in blinds me again.
I may not be able to see him, but I feel him.
It’s like everything is moving in slow motion when Ryder’s hand reaches for me under the water, brushing the skin of my inner arm as his other hand settles on my lower back, pulling me into him like we’re magnets.
The movement is smooth, done with so much ease that not even I can doubt how natural it feels to be pressed together.
I can’t touch the floor of the pool, but it doesn’t matter because Ryder’s hold on me is as strong as steel chains and just as binding. His other hand cups my cheek, keeping a possessive hold while ensuring I don’t look away like he knows I’m tempted to.
Ryder towers over me like certain doom, and it scares me how much it doesn’t scare me. The intensity boring into me has the power to bring kings to their knees, and I’m furious that I want to rest in the arms capable of bringing such destruction to the world.
“He couldn’t bring out one ounce of the passion inside you. The way your eyes light up, the way your heart races, the way your fingers dig into my chest, and your toes curl without you even realizing it’s happening. That’s how I know there wasn’t passion between you and Jacob. Because I know you.”
Like trying to break free of whatever hold he has over me, I force myself to relax my fingers and uncurl my toes.
“You’re right,” I practically spit. “Jacob didn’t do such a fantastic job pissing me off, but you seem to do it flawlessly.”
“Anger is passion, too, Rebel.”
“Not the kind I’m looking for.”
“You want to know why you’ve never found what you’re looking for?” His lips barely brush against mine, eliciting goosebumps that cover my body, though the pool is warm. “Because you’ve been looking in the wrong place.”
“And you’re the right place?”
He pulls back just enough to look at me with an honesty I can’t deny. “I always have been.”
I’m not sure which of us leans in first, only that when our lips finally meet, I lose all control. It’s like he’s flipped a switch, turning off any reason or sanity.
I don’t push him away, tell myself this is wrong, or even think.
I just feel.
Ryder’s hand wraps around my neck to pull me to him like he can’t get close enough. The hand that holds my back runs up and down my waist like he’s trying to commit the curves to memory.
I can’t keep my hands still, either. I let them roam his body just like I’ve been dying to since I got home. They trail down his muscles with every ounce of the possessiveness that bubbles in my veins.
It feels like my right to have him all to myself.
“You taste even better than I remember,” he grits out between furious kisses, and I wrap my legs around his waist in answer.
My head is spinning and I have no idea if it’s the taste of him, the feel of him, or if it’s just simply him.
No one could hold a candle to the blazing, destructive flame that is Ryder Bates.
Maybe I was screwed the moment I caught his eye in that club. Maybe I was ruined the second he decided he wanted me. He destined me to a life of craving something so far out of my league, my comfort level, and my world.
Because in my world—the normal, real world—I wouldn’t want someone who lives such a dangerous life, who puts our child at risk with his very existence, and who has the power to bring me the most unimaginable high just as quickly as he brings the most soul-crushing pain.
Yet here I am, moving against Ryder’s body like the only missing piece of an otherwise completed puzzle.
I don’t remember moving in the water, but suddenly, my back hits the edge of the pool. As if to make it even harder for me to think straight, his hand wraps around my throat in a greedy hold that never fails to make me weak in the knees.
“Tell me you missed me,” he pleads against my lips.
But I can’t.
I can barely breathe, let alone speak, and it’s not just words he’s asking for. He’s asking me to confess what I’ve only just learned about myself.
That there is no moving on from him.
My hands are anchored around his neck, and I pull him in for another kiss, just as desperate to avoid his question as I am to have him—but he’s unmoving.
“Tell me you missed me, Rebel,” he repeats, but a shaky breath is all I can manage.
My fingers dig into his neck, and I squeeze my eyes shut, committing the feel of him to memory. I know this moment won’t last forever, but maybe a memory can. Maybe that can be enough this time.
Or maybe I’ll be left with a shattered heart and bittersweet, hollow memories that will haunt me every time I close my eyes.
“You have no idea how infuriating it is to want you,” he mutters at my continued silence. “To have no idea what’s happening in your head that makes you fight everything you want.”
I don’t realize I’ve begun to shake until Ryder takes my hand and holds it firmly against his chest. His heart is racing, pounding like it could jump out and land in the palm of my hand.
“Do you feel that?” he asks, voice rough. “Do you feel how crazy I am about you? How crazy you make me? You might be ashamed to say it, but I’m not. I missed you, Rebel. I—”
“I missed you, too, okay?” I snap, and I hate how desperate the words sound. “I missed you, and I hate you, and I missed you. Are you happy now?”
I don’t wait for an answer before pulling him in for another kiss, and this time he doesn’t deny me.
I want to be mad at him for forcing the words out of me, but right now, I can’t bring myself to care. As long as his lips are on mine and we share each breath, nothing else in this world matters.
And when my hands move down Ryder’s chest to the waistband of his shorts, he knows exactly what I’m asking for.
“Are you sure?” he asks, searching my eyes for any hint of hesitation.
“I missed you,” I whisper in confirmation.
We don’t move to get out of the pool, even after the water stills around us. My arms remain locked around Ryder’s neck, and he holds me close at the waist. Our foreheads rest against each other, his breath skating over my skin, and I savor every inhale of him.
After who knows how long, Ryder pushes my forehead with his, so I’m forced to look into his eyes. “Tell me that isn’t the passion you’re looking for.”
I don’t say anything because we both know it is.