6. Madeline
Chapter 6
Madeline
A fter an hour of treating Ted, I found Ryan in the family waiting room area of the hospital. I watched him from the small window, he was pacing and he looked tired, so tired and older than I remembered. I understand the stress he endures daily, as I go through it too. It’s why we were always so in tune with each other. We lived hard lives and were responsible for many others. That type of leadership takes its toll.
I told him Ted was going to be just fine but he’d be out for six weeks, and he’d have some rehab exercises to do to get his hand back in shape. Ryan looked at me with eyes that were weary and I wanted so badly to reach out and hold him, hug him, tell him I'm here if he wants me.
But instead, I reminded him not to enter a room while a nurse is with a patient and certainly not to question the nurse in front of others. Was it a bitch move? Yup, but since my feelings were hitting a brick wall, that’s the response he got.
It's now almost eight at night and I’m at the end of my twelve-hour shift. I’m more emotionally tired today than anything because thoughts of Ryan haven't left me. And I've been fighting with myself on whether to show up at his house tonight. I want to check on him, see how he’s doing after knowing Ted got hurt, but I know it’s more than that.
My body is dying for his touch.
No matter what we were going through during our short time together, he could always make it better with a hug, a kiss, a caress and so much more. And I was the same for him. After seeing him today, I can’t get it out of my head. We need one another, physically and emotionally.
So I'm taking my shot and I’m driving to his house. I pull into his driveway and shut the car off, the engine still ticking lightly. I approach his front porch, noticing there is one light on in the house and as I knock on the door, my only hope is that he lets me in.
A moment later, the door swings open and Ryan stands in front of me in sweatpants and no shirt. His hair is damp, his feet bare and his face is unreadable.
“Can I come in?”
He steps back, still not saying a word and lets me pass. He shuts the door then walks to the chair and sits down, taking a sip from his glass. The liquid is tan and the ice cubes clink around and I know he’s taking today hard. His eyes never leave mine though. He watches my every move as I move closer to him in the room and sit down on the couch opposite his chair.
“How’s Ted?” I ask.
“Fine. Resting at home.”
“I met Jace when he picked him up. He’s a very sweet kid.”
He nods.
And there’s more silence as I actively try not to stare at his chest.
I clear my throat. “How are you?”
“Fine.”
“Are you sure?”
He takes another sip of his drink. “Are you a therapist now?”
“I do think I give good advice.”
He smirks. “Can’t follow it for shit, though.”
I let out an exasperated laugh. “Oh Ryan, I didn’t come here to fight with you.”
“What’d you come here for then?”
I watch him. Though he appears relaxed in the chair, his body is tense. He’s got a slight buzz going on and he’s probably conflicted in how he’s feeling about me. But I want this, I want all of this. I want him to feel every emotion and I want him to tell me about it. If it’s through snarky comments or questions that opens dialogue, I want it.
“I came to check on you. I know today was hard.”
He’s quiet for the longest time and just when I think he’s going to tell me to leave, he nods and says, “It was hard. I’ve seen a lot during my time as a fireman, but I’ve never had someone get hurt on my watch while I’m chief.” He leans forward in the chair, his forearms resting on his thighs. “I wasn’t even there. And I should have been. They said it was a two-alarm fire so I didn’t bother, knowing they could handle it.”
He drops his head and shakes it lightly. I move from the couch to kneel on the floor next to him. I cautiously lay my hand on his bicep. “From what Ted told me, it wouldn’t have mattered if you were there. It was an accident, Ryan.”
He still doesn’t pick his head up and I let my fingers glide down his arm to his forearm before I drop my hand to my lap.
He picks his head up, defeat in his eyes. “I hated you for leaving.”
My breath leaves me in a rush and I feel my eyes well with tears. But crying won’t help this right now. He’s filled with emotions and just as I hoped, he’s letting them out.
“I hated myself for leaving.” I inch even closer to him and squeeze his hand. “I thought I was doing the right thing but…” My words linger in the air because even now, I don’t know what I thought I was proving by leaving. I was scared to commit to one place. I just thought there was more life for me to find and experience.
But all the life I needed was right here in Love Beach.
His hair hangs loosely over his forehead and I brush it from his face. The touch of it immediately takes me back to all the times I ran my fingers through it or gripped it tight while he went down on me.
“But what?”
I shake my head and let my fingers brush his shoulder, I trace the freckles on his arm then move back up to squeeze his bicep again. I always loved to hold onto his strong arms while he thrusted above me. My eyes linger on his skin and my heart beats faster in my chest.
“But I was wrong.”
Our eyes connect again and then he’s kissing me. It happens so fast I don’t even realize he’s cupped my face and has captured my lips. I try to catch my breath and he only uses it to invade my mouth, sweeping his tongue inside, causing my body to feel like it’s on fire.
From just one kiss.
We lick and nibble and bite bottom lips and then he’s panting, resting his forehead against mine. His hands massage the space between my neck and collarbone. I close my eyes and let my body sway with each touch. This is what I came for. I needed to feel him, hear his words, taste his kiss.
“Are you going to make it right?”
I open my eyes when I hear his question and feel him disconnect from me. He’s leaning back in the chair again, his chest rising with each breath, like he’s nervous to hear my answer. His legs are wide and I move in between them, still on my knees. His eyes flutter the slightest bit as I lay my hands on his thighs.
“If you’ll let me.”
His eyes hold mine as he speaks with intention and with a low tone that rumbles through my body. “I want to let you right now. I want nothing more than to have your hands on me, to see your lips stretched around my cock and your pussy in my mouth. I’ve missed tasting you and I’ve dreamt about it every night since you left.” His chest puffs with a deep breath as I work my hands higher up his thighs. “I don’t know if that makes me a sucker, pining for the woman who left me?—”
“Ryan…”
“A man with the patience of a saint because I haven't touched another since the day you left.”
I grip his thighs. “I’m so sor?—”
“Or a fool because I’m asking you to leave.” At his words, I loosen my grip and sit back on my legs. His eyes have turned from need to resolve. “I need more than what you gave me last time. And I need it longer than six months. So if your timeline has you leaving Love Beach again, then I need you to leave my house right now.”