Chapter 41
forty-one
WREN
I stare out the airplane window, arms crossed tight over my chest, watching the coastline disappear beneath us. My heart feels like it’s been put through a blender, all torn up and aching in ways I don’t know how to fix.
Ryan sits across from me, his body language screaming tension. Jaw set, shoulders rigid, hands clenched in his lap. He hasn’t looked at me once since we boarded twenty minutes ago. Not once.
This is the longest we’ve gone without speaking since this whole mess started. Even when we were fighting, even when we hated each other, there was always something. A snide comment, a sarcastic quip, some kind of verbal sparring that kept us connected.
Now there’s just silence. Cold, empty silence that feels like it’s swallowing me whole.
If I say something now, it’ll just make him hate me faster.
Maybe it’s better this way. I tell myself this is for the best. I was right to push him away before he could do it first. He’ll be fine without me.
He’ll choose one of the other girls, someone who actually makes sense for him.
I’ll go back to my regular life where Ryan Haart is just my brother’s annoying best friend.
But the thought of him choosing someone else makes the ache in my chest deepen until I can barely breathe. The thought of watching him fall in love with Heidi or JacqLyn or whoever Elena decides is the perfect match for America’s favorite bachelor.
The thought of him moving on like this weekend never happened.
“We’re beginning our descent,” the stewardess says. “Please fasten your seatbelts until we’re at the gate.”
Ryan finally looks up, but not at me. He stares at the seat back in front of him like it holds the secrets of the universe.
I want to say something. Anything. But every word I think of feels too small or too big or too dangerous. So I stay quiet and watch the ground get closer, knowing that every mile brings us back to reality.
Back to the mansion where we’ll have to pretend we’re just contestants on a dating show. Where he’ll go back to kissing other women and I’ll go back to being the weird girl who doesn’t belong.
Ryan immediately unbuckles his seatbelt and stands, grabbing his bag from the overhead compartment without a word.
I follow him down the narrow aisle, staying a few steps behind. Like I’m his shadow again. When we reach the bathroom at the front of the plane, he stops abruptly and I nearly crash into him.
“Ryan, I…”
He finally turns, and our eyes meet. Something cracks. Not anger, not lust, just everything we’ve been holding back exploding all at once.
Before I can finish the sentence, he’s backing me into the tiny bathroom, his mouth crashing against mine with desperate hunger.
I should push him away. Should tell him this is exactly what I was trying to avoid. But God, I’ve missed this. Missed him. My hands fist in his shirt and I kiss him back just as desperately.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he growls against my lips.
“Ryan, we can’t…”
“I know. I know we can’t. But I can’t stop.”
His hands slide into my hair, tilting my head back. I’m drowning in him. In the taste of him, the smell of him, the way he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing that matters.
“This is insane,” I whisper.
“I don’t care.”
His mouth moves to my throat and I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning. We’re on an airplane. The crew is probably wondering where we are. But I can’t bring myself to care about anything except the way he’s touching me.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” he says against my skin.
I open my mouth to lie, to tell him exactly that. But the words won’t come.
“Wren.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
“I can’t tell you I don’t want this. But I also can’t do this.”
He pulls back to look at me, his eyes dark with frustration and want. “Why?”
“It’s going to feel amazing and perfect and real. Then it’ll be over. You’ll pick someone else. I can’t survive that.”
He stares at me for a long moment, then steps back, running his hands through his hair. “Right. Of course.”
The hurt in his voice makes my chest tight. “Ryan…”
“Forget it. You’re right. This was stupid.”
He pushes past me and out of the bathroom, leaving me standing there with my heart pounding and my hands shaking.
By the time I make it out, he’s already off the plane.
The car ride back to the mansion is even worse than the flight. We sit on opposite sides of the backseat, the space between us feeling like an ocean.
The driver tries to make small talk about the weather, but neither of us responds.
When we pull up to the mansion, Ryan gets out first and walks inside without waiting for me. I sit in the car for an extra moment, trying to pull myself together before facing the other contestants.
“You okay, miss?” the driver asks.
“Tired of everything,” I lie.
I drag my bag up to my room, grateful that my roommates are nowhere to be found. The space feels too small and too big all at once. Too small because I can still smell Ryan on my clothes. Too big because he’s not here.
I need a shower. Need to wash off the salt air and the memory of his hands on my skin.
The water is scalding hot, exactly how I like it when I’m trying to punish myself. I stand under the spray and try not to think about the shower at the villa. About Ryan’s hands sliding soap across my skin. About the way he looked at me, like I was something precious.
But my body has other ideas. My hands drift down, tracing the same paths his fingers took just hours ago.
I close my eyes and imagine he’s here with me.
Imagine what would have happened if I hadn’t stopped him in that airplane bathroom.
If I’d let him push my skirt up and take me right there, the crew just outside the door.
The thought makes me gasp, my fingers moving faster. I imagine him lifting me onto the tiny counter, imagine the desperate way he’d touch me, the way he’d murmur my name against my ear. His mouth on my throat, his hands everywhere, his voice telling me how much he wants me.
I come hard, Ryan’s name on my lips, my legs shaking so badly I have to brace myself against the shower wall.
Afterward, I slide down to sit on the shower floor, letting the hot water run over me while I cry. Because this is what I’ve done to myself. This is what pushing him away has gotten me.
I’m alone, aching for a man I can’t have, masturbating in a shower while he’s probably downstairs charming the other contestants like nothing happened between us.
I was right to protect myself. Right to push him away before he remembered I was never the kind of girl men keep. But why does being right feel exactly like being invisible again?
I won’t go back to that life. I can’t.