Chapter Eleven #2
“Yep,” I squeak, slamming my mouth shut to avoid another spill of laughter from coming out. The darker his face gets, the more the cave dweller grunting sounds in my mind.
I can’t help it, I burst out laughing.
Now he’s really looking at me completely baffled. I take a step back, bending over to clutch my knees as the wave of laughter pours out of me. Oh Goddess, he’s put his hands on his hips and now he’s staring down at me.
All I can hear is ME CLAIM WOMAN.
I’m dying as I fall to the floor clutching my side.
I shake my hands over my head. “Stop looking at me like that. I can’t…” I wheeze. “You’re making it worse.”
“Making what worse?”
The small bathroom is full of steam, my laughter, and one God of a man staring at me in confusion.
If he hits his chest, I’m losing it right here, deceased and never coming back.
“Can you stop being a broody caveman hovering over his woman? I’m dying right now.”
He’s still staring down at me, confused, while I’m sprawled on the bathroom floor, laughing so hard that I can barely breathe.
“Are you done yet?” He asks dryly, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Not even close,” I say as I wipe my eyes, and gasp for air. But the second I look up at him, naked, and completely unbothered—I lose it again.
He shakes his head, muttering about losing all the hot water, before bending down and scooping me off the floor like I weigh nothing.
“Ryatt,” I squeal as he carries me straight into the shower, and directly into the hot water.
Hot water hits my back, soaking through my hair and sliding down both of us. He doesn’t let me go—just presses his forehead to mine as he lets out a chuckle.
“You know, when you mentioned aftercare, this isn’t what I was thinking.” I giggle as I pop the cap on my strawberries and cream shampoo, lathering my hands, and running them through his hair.
He hums contently. “Oh, I think this is exactly what you needed,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing.
Soap bubbles and laughter fill the tiny space, the steam wrapping us in our own little world.
Every touch is tender, almost reverent. He rinses shampoo from my hair as my fingers trace along the creases in his muscles.
The air feels thick with warmth and something deeper—something I’ve never experienced before.
By the time the water cools, I feel different. Not because we showered together, something I’ve never done before. But it feels as though something settled in my soul, as though he rubbed a balm across a wound that never quite healed.
He shuts off the facet, grabs two towels, and wraps one around me before pulling me close again. “Better?”
“Cleaner,” I grin. “I’m still convinced you might caveman out on me.”
“Caveman out on you?”
I chuckle. “Yeah, it’s what I was laughing about before the shower. I envisioned you standing over me banging your fists against your chest as you proclaimed me as yours.”
“That’s…” he shakes his head slowly, wrapping his towel around him. “Yet you still let me shower with you.”
I shrug my shoulder. “Temporary lapse in judgement. Who could fault a girl for wanting,” I gesture down his chest. “a handsome caveman like yourself in her shower. Nobody, that’s who.”
He swats my ass as we turn to walk out of the bathroom. We are both still laughing when the sound of Jingle Bell Rock fills the apartment. I look to Ryatt in confusion, but his face has gone white. He’s practically frozen until the song ends.
“You alright?”
Before he can answer, the song starts again, but this time he rushes into the living room. I follow after him, wondering what could spook a person so bad if they call.
When I walk around the corner, I find him staring at the screen on his phone as he hits the green answer button.
“Dad?” he answers quietly.
There’s a pause. Then his jaw tightens.
He’s listening to whatever is being said as he falls down onto the couch. He’s staring straight at my mantle, but you can tell he isn’t seeing the object. His hand grips his phone tighter.
“What do you mean you’re sick?”
My heart stutters. I experienced this with my own Pa when he was diagnosed with heart failure. He’ll have to leave. I have no idea where his dad lives, but he’ll need to go. There’s no way I can see him staying, and I’d never dream of asking for him to.
He listens, his eyes drifting up my wall above my mantel. I have no idea where he’s looking, but it’s somewhere I can’t follow.
He nods his head slowly before his eyes shutter closed. Whatever is being said, he doesn’t want it to be true. I can see it in the way his shoulders drooped, and the heavy breath he sighed.
“I’ll come home,” he says finally, voice low and steady. “Tonight.”
My heart shatters. For a week I’ve let him break down my walls, slowly chipping away at everything I’d put between men and my heart. Now, as if fate finds it hilarious, it’s all being ripped away from me. I shouldn’t have let myself hope.
He nods his head curtly. “Don’t worry about it.
I’ll take care of everything as soon as I take care of my business here.
Yeah…” he nods his head a few more times, eyes still closed firmly.
But I can see his eyes flickering rapidly behind them.
His mind is racing, calculating. “Yeah, I’ll tell you all about it when I get there. Uh…huh. Yep. Love you too.”
His hand falls, the phone coming along with it as his eyes slowly peel open. He stares at the black screen for so long that I worry he might have malfunctioned.
“Ryatt?” I finally whisper.
His eyes snap to mine, glistening with tears and determination. He looks like someone who fears he might lose everything, and that’s scarier than him just walking away.
“Berry…do you trust me?”
Shakily, I say, “yes” on a breath.
His eyes soften—just for a moment—before that urgency flickers back into place. “Will you come with me? Believe everything you see and give me a chance to explain everything?”
I take a hesitant step back. My throat tightening. “What do you mean by that?” I whisper. “What’s happening?”
He steps forward, closing the distance I’d created, his hands finding mine. His palms are warm, grounding, but his voice trembles with something close to desperation.
“Don’t be scared, Holly,” he says quietly.
“I have to go home—but where I’m going isn’t a city you’ve ever been to, read about, or even know exists.
” His fingers squeeze mine, like he’s trying to tether me to him before I can drift away.
“I just need you to trust me. You mean everything to me, and I need you right now. Can you do that?”
The room feels as if it’s sucked in a breath, waiting for my answer. My pulse thrums in my ears as his words settle between us.
Not a city I’ve ever heard of? Not a place I know?
Every part of me wants to ask questions—so many questions—but the look in his eyes silences them all. Fear and hope live there side by side, and both are pleading with me to say yes.
I look around my apartment at the meager belongings I have. To Chester, who’s sitting on the back of the couch watching this whole thing play out.
My eyes slide back to Ryatt’s. “I’ll come but on one condition.”
His eyes light up. “Name it.”
“Chester has to come along.”