Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO
Ryder
I turned the homemade spaghetti sauce down to a simmer and hoped it would turn out. I made it the same way my mom always did, but nothing ever tasted as good as when she cooked it.
Pulling out the pasta from the pantry, I glanced around at my new place one last time. It was still sparse and filled with all my old stuff, but I’d deep cleaned and made sure it was as presentable as it could be.
That was why Caroline was coming over anyway. After almost three weeks at my new job, I had enough money to buy a few new things for my place and start making it my own. And I wasn’t joking when I told her I wanted her to leave her touch. Glancing around my space and seeing her everywhere would be amazing.
My schedule since I’d started had been chaotic. Late nights and weekends were the norm while I was training and getting the hang of things. Although everyone told me it was temporary, and that the work I was putting in now would pay off, it felt never- ending. This was the first Friday night I hadn’t been either out with coworkers, trying to be friendly, or working late.
Not to mention, Caroline was in the midst of the summer wedding rush which meant she spent the weekdays preparing for the weddings she coordinated on the weekends.
Between both of our jobs, we’d missed each other at almost every moment. I’d seen her once since our arcade not date, and it happened to be at my mom and Theo’s, also known as my childhood home.
She’d been drinking wine with my mom and painting their primary bedroom when I dropped by to return their dolly they’d lent me during the moving process. At some point, we found ourselves alone, and I wasted no time pushing her up against a wall—one not wet with paint—and kissing her until the ache in my stomach somewhat eased.
It wasn’t nearly enough, but we quickly ran out of time when I heard my mom coming back down the hallway.
That was a week and a half ago, and I was craving her something fierce. All the texts and phone calls and one FaceTime in which I jacked off while she fingered herself in the bathtub, was great but they didn’t extinguish my desire.
Lost in memories, I hadn’t started the pasta like I planned when there was a knock on the door. I dropped the bag immediately and jogged through the kitchen. I took a steadying breath before I yanked the door open, but the breath did little to help when I saw her.
She was dressed casually in a white tee and light wash jeans with a bag clutched in her hands. Her hair freely fell around her face and just above her shoulders, but my eyes zeroed in on her eyes, grayer in the evening light, and the smile that graced her lips.
It wasn’t my plan to jump her—for lack of a better description—but fuck, I couldn’t help it when she smiled at me like that or when she greeted me with a low, “Hey, Trouble.”
Reaching forward, I ushered her inside and quickly closed the do or. Simultaneously, I flipped the lock and backed her up against the wall in the entryway. It was reminiscent of those few seconds we got in my mom’s bedroom, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to touch her, feel her under my fingers, and taste her lips.
Her bag thudded to the floor as I slanted my mouth over hers. Automatically she opened for me, sweeping her tongue against mine, I moaned in approval. Her hands ran up my chest, and her arms wrapped around my neck. My hands were everywhere else, running up her sides and over her stomach. I braced them just below the curve of her breasts and felt her heart beating wildly in her chest.
She nipped at my bottom lip, and I growled into her mouth as I lifted her into my arms. Her legs tightened around my hips, and I walked us the few feet into the kitchen. Our kiss was the culmination of three long weeks without much. I sat her on the counter and yanked her to the edge where I could feel the heat from between her thighs against my raging boner. The same one I’d had since she’d responded to my earlier invite.
Schedules that aligned made me hard.
Between kisses, Caroline laughed. “Hi to you, too.”
My hands ran down her thighs, and the last thing I wanted to do was step away. But if I got started, we would never eat dinner, and I’d promised her a meal. I also hoped that she’d brought extra clothes and toiletries so she could stay the night.
I’d considered buying her a few essentials I knew she used, but that didn’t send the signal that I was okay with keeping things casual. Although I didn’t think it made much of a difference, I knew how Caroline thought, and I was doing my damnedest not to spook her.
Even when it required swallowing and hiding all my desires and suppressing my instincts.
“Hi, pretty girl,” I managed to say as I pulled away. God, she was fucking gorgeous. But even more so with her hair disheveled and her lips swollen and wet from our kiss. I’d shaved so she wouldn’t have any beard burn around her mouth, but I liked that, too. When her skin was slightly red, it was more proof that she’d enjoyed our kiss.
I planned to kiss her so many times while she was here, and I didn’t want it to hurt the next day.
“What do you think of the place?” I said, giving her one final kiss.
She giggled against my mouth, and the sound landed directly against my heart. “I haven’t seen much of it yet. But your mouth feels just like I remember.”
“Fucking hell,” I said, dropping my head and pressing our foreheads together. “I’ve missed you.” The words were out of my mouth before I could think about them, and as expected, Caroline stiffened under my palms. Her hands, wrapped around my biceps, loosened and dropped on top of mine where I held her thighs.
I had missed her. I missed her so much every time we went too long without seeing one another. But my plan to keep my cool was harder when I was just happy to be in her presence again. I was out of practice holding my tongue. It was easier over text and on the phone, I had time to contemplate my answers.
I wasn’t sure why her urge was to automatically deflect every time the conversation strayed inches deeper than surface level, but it did. And figuring it out required a more substantial conversation that she was dying to prevent.
“Did you miss me, or did your cock miss me?” she purred, letting her fingers trail up my hand and linger over the outline of my dick through my jeans.
Momentarily, my thoughts took a turn. I could think about little else when she was touching me.
“Why can’t it be both?” I asked. My eyes fell shut, and she tightened her grip. But only for a moment before her hand disappeared, and she pushed me backward .
“Give me the grand tour,” she said, and I helped her off the counter. I took her hand and stepped out of the kitchen.
Waving my hand in front of me, I motioned to the room we’d just been in. “Here’s the kitchen.”
She shook her head but examined the room, nonetheless. She ran her free hand over the edge of the granite island. “I like it. It’s really open,” she said.
The kitchen opened directly to the living room which extended out into a patio with double French doors. To the right was my bedroom, which was slightly larger than my previous room, and the bathroom that opened into my room and out into the living room. One day I’d be able to afford something more than a one-bedroom, but I was only one person. I didn’t need much more.
It didn’t take long to guide her through my little space. But she ooo’ed and ahh’ed, pointing out the upgrades and improvements from my old place.
She didn’t point out the picture of us I’d printed from graduation. It was the one where I’d asked her to kiss me, and she’d explicitly said no while her eyes said something different. I knew she saw it, she paused long enough that I was able to follow her gaze, but she didn’t say anything.
Knowing she was coming over, I’d moved it from my bedside table to the dresser across the room.
“I’m sorry, I don’t have anywhere to sit,” I said as we walked back into the kitchen. “Maybe barstools should be the first thing we try to find.”
“That and curtains if you want to sleep past seven.” I grabbed a pot from a cabinet next to the stove and began filling it with water. Caroline toed off her shoes and hopped up on the counter next to me, in the same spot I’d set her down earlier. Reaching behind her, she pulled her laptop out of her bag and opened it on her lap.
While I started the pasta and made sure the sauce wasn’t burning or sticking, Caroline explained her ideas .
“I already bookmarked a few things I think you’d like. These barstools that have a gray cushion and lighter brown wood. They’re kind of midcentury modern, but I think they’re the vibe you’re going for. And I think cream curtains would look best. You also need lamps. Using the overhead lights are horrible and should be avoided at all costs—what?”
She abruptly stopped talking and looked up from her computer. I hadn’t realized I’d ceased stirring the sauce in favor of staring at her and watching her animatedly talk about furniture for my apartment.
“Just listening,” I said, shaking my head. “So, I need lamps?”
She blinked and licked her lips. She stared at me for a moment like she knew I was lying. Like she somehow managed to learn telepathy and read my mind to figure out I was actually thinking thoughts similar to, I like you in my space. I want you in my space. Please stay.
Maybe not those exact thoughts, but something very similar.
“Yes, you need lamps,” she continued, and I made it a point to keep cooking as we talked. I started the garlic bread and cooked the chicken, again just the way my mom did.
Caroline turned her screen every once in a while to show me a piece she thought would look good or to explain why it wasn’t going to work. By the time I had plated the food and was arranging it the best I could on the coffee table—the limited furniture I did have—we’d ordered most of the things I needed and planned to thrift the rest.
She curled up on one side of the couch, and I sat on the other.
“This is amazing,” Caroline complimented. “Don’t tell your mom this, but I think this is better than hers,” she said around a mouthful of food that I found oddly endearing.
I chuckled around my own bite. “I won’t say anything. She would not take kindly to that information.”
“So, how have your first few weeks of work been?”
I nodded. “Good…”
Caroline glanced up from her food with her eyebrows raised, her in credulous look spearing right through me. She made me cave without a word.
With a sigh, I said, “It really is good. I like the company and my coworkers, but it’s a lot. Moving and starting a new job, I needed a night off already.”
She reached for her wineglass and took a long sip. “Welcome to the next thirty plus years of your life! Aren’t you looking forward to it?”
“Working until I die?”
“Yup.”
“I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my life.”
Her smile widened, and she took another bite. Humming around her fork, she shut her eyes slowly like she was savoring the flavor. “If you want some unsolicited advice,” she began, looking back at me. “It will get easier. You’ll figure out whether you love your job or not, and then you’ll make a change if you need to. Just don’t spend your life doing something you hate.”
“Is that how you started your own business?”
She shrugged. “Sort of. I wanted to start a company that was inclusive to anyone and everyone. No matter who you are or what your budget, you deserve to have the event of your dreams. So, when the right…investor came along, I jumped. I also realized that although I work well with others, I like to be in charge.”
I slid my empty plate on the coffee table and settled back with my glass of wine. “I know you do,” I said with a smile. “Did you always know you wanted to be an event planner?”
“Yes, I came out of the womb wanting to plan elaborate parties and gorgeous weddings.” She slid her empty plate onto the coffee table and clasped her wineglass with both hands, propping feet up on the cushion between us. My couch wasn’t too large, so the tips of her toes almost grazed my thigh. “I knew in college, and after I graduated, I got a job at a wedding planning company. My first wedding, I knew it made sense for me.”
“So, you still enjoy it just as much now as you did then? ”
She tipped her glass back and took a sip. Her tongue darted out and ran over her lower lip, collecting the excess wine and making me consider what she’d taste like right then. I bet the wine would taste even better on her tongue.
“I enjoy it more now than I ever did back then. My first job didn’t…” She cleared her throat and glanced to her left. The only thing over there was the TV, but it wasn’t on. She looked everywhere but back to me. That was until she swallowed and took a shallow, forced breath. “It didn’t end well, so yeah, I like it much better now.”
There were so many follow-up questions on the tip of my tongue. I knew Caroline so well, but her past, she kept close to her chest. Even in the time I’d spent with her family, they didn’t spare many details aside from the occasional high school story or anecdote from childhood.
I wanted to know everything about her. The good, the bad, and everything in between.
But she didn’t give me an opportunity to press. Not that she would have answered any of my questions anyway.
“So, what about you? Did you pop out of the womb wanting to be an engineer? Actually, I distinctly remember when you were probably sixteen, your mom told me you wanted to be a teacher.”
With a sigh, my head fell back onto the couch cushion. “Yeah, I’m not entirely sure why. I thought maybe I could coach either baseball or swimming and teach, too. I haven’t completely put aside the idea of one day teaching, but I think I’d get my master’s and become a professor instead. Teaching children, even high school, sounds terrifying.”
I finished off my glass and slipped it onto the table next to my plate. I was enjoying our conversation too much to get up and clean. It would be there until I did it and that was fine with me. I liked the little bubble we were in.
Caroline tracked the movement. When I leaned back, her partially lidded eyes followed me .
“I really am glad things are going well,” she said, touching the edge of her glass to her lower lip.
“Me too.” My voice was softer because all I could think about was her goddamn mouth. One small movement, and it was like she had me in a trance. A fucking siren singing a song made specifically for me.
“Do you want more wine?” she asked. Her eyes darted back down to my empty glass, but I kept watching her.
“Maybe in a little while.”
She hummed and pushed up to her knees. My breath hitched, and my pulse was pounding in my neck and farther south. But I didn’t move as she crawled toward me skillfully managing not to spill the red wine on my couch. When she reached me, she slung her left leg over my hips and settled on top of me.