Chapter 33 #2
“I don’t know if it happened when you played the people game with me at the boardwalk, or when you pulled me out of the path of a bicyclist or when you accidentally flirted with me after your car accident.
Maybe it was when you told me about your sister, and I understood why you’d want to write something strictly for the money.
Maybe it was the first time you kissed me.
Or maybe when the thought of dating anyone else made me cry.
And I don’t want to be the woman that waits twenty years to finally get to be with the man she loves. ”
“Don’t cry,” he says, wiping away a tear with his thumb because, yes, now I’m crying a little bit. “I guess things didn’t work out with your ex.”
“I broke up with him the same weekend you left. You have terrible timing! And why would you encourage me to stay with someone who was obviously not good for me?”
“Because you had to figure it out for yourself. Here’s the thing.
From the beginning, we were not on equal footing.
You were my research assistant, and do you know how many times I’ve had an assistant?
Too many to count and I always behaved appropriately.
Workplace romances are great in books, not so much in real life.
I broke too many rules with you and I had to end one part of our relationship if we were ever going to have another.
And that’s the only reason I walked away. ”
This made a lot of sense and it fit with everything I already know about Ryan. He’s without a doubt, one of the most honorable and upstanding men I’ve ever known.
“But...you could have told me that.”
“I sent you flowers every week,” he said, studying the floor.
“That was you?”
I want to smack my forehead. Of course it was him. Sofia tried to tell me, even asking me to call the flower shop. I did, and they refused to tell me.
“That was me. I had to keep my distance but I thought maybe I’d at least keep you from forgetting me entirely.”
“But they had no note!”
He blinks. “What? No note? For God’s sake, I want my money back.”
I laugh and slug his shoulder. “I should have figured it out but I was too hurt to believe it. You should have called me. Three months is too long.”
“Why do you think I’m here?”
“You have a panel tomorrow.”
He shakes his head. “It was canceled.”
“So…you came here anyway…for me?”
“What do you think, genius?” He cocks his head and grins, resting his hand on the nape of my neck and tugging me even closer. “I decided I’d punished myself long enough and I was going to take a chance that you’d want to see me again. And when you chased me out of the room, I knew.”
“Oh, so that was a test, professor?”
He takes my hand and brings it to his lips to brush a kiss across my knuckles.
I lean forward, kissing his shoulder, and then we both lean in the world’s most beautiful choreography, and kiss.
The kiss is soul-deep, torching every part of me and changing it for the better.
I fall into him, forgetting we’re in a public place.
He has this way of kissing me that feels like an all-body hug.
I finally break for air. “B-but what if I was with someone else?”
“Then it wasn’t meant to be, or at least not this decade. I would have had to accept it as long as you were happy.” He presses his forehead to mine. “But I would have been heartbroken.”
“You’re a much better person than I am.” I reach to tug on his beard. “This is interesting but I kind of like it.”
“It’s how I look when I’m near the end of a book.”
“Oh, I finished my first draft.”
“I know. Kate has kept me up to date. I managed to ask about you frequently, professional reasons only, of course.”
“Of course. What happens now?”
“Anything you want. We’re on an even playing field. Nice to meet you, I’m Ryan Brady.” He holds out his warm hand and this time, I’m sure he’s never going to let go.
“I’m Luci Santana also known as Elizabeth Brogan.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“And one more thing. If we’re going to be together, you can’t just take off every time you want peace and quiet to finish a book. We have to figure that out.”
“Agreed.”
I smooth down the lapels of his coat. “Um, I’m staying here, you know. On the 12th floor.”
“Yeah?” He kisses me again.
This time when we break apart I take his hand and tug him toward the elevator doors. When we hop on, we’re sharing the elevator with two other people, and the woman glances at me.
“Oh, Elizabeth Brogan.” She reaches into her cart full of books and pulls out Soulmates. “I didn’t get your autograph at the signing this morning. The line was too long.”
“Who should I make it out to?” I address it to her, then sign and hand it back. “This is Ryan Brady, by the way. He’s an award-winning author of historical fiction.”
He rolls his eyes at me but gives the woman a smile and nod.
“That’s nice,” the woman says.
She gets off the elevator first, and Ryan and I ride up the rest of the floors. We laugh some of the way, we kiss the rest of it, we’re unable to keep our hands off each other.
But when we get closer to my room, fear rises in me.
Fear and nerves. Excitement. Throw in a little angst, too.
I’m at the start of a romance book that could practically write itself.
The ingenue in a romcom, riding up in the elevator with the man who headlines her dreams. Depending on the spice rating, we were either going to stop the elevator and shag right in that tight space or wait until we opened the door to my suite.
When we’re just outside my room my fingers fumble with the card key. I have to try twice. It’s Ryan who takes it from me and gets the door to click open.
I suspect he’s as nervous as I am. I mean, we’ve both written these scenes and the expectations are high.
Are we as good as our writing would reflect?
Those scenes take forever to get right. I don’t want my first love scene with Ryan to go by the book.
Instead, I want to feel his warm bare skin against mine.
I want to kiss him forever. I don’t know which one of us is going to take the lead but I vote him.
Ryan doesn’t disappoint. We’ve no sooner shut the door when he’s got me against it, kissing me everywhere. He’s not shy. He kisses the column of my neck, the pads of my ears, anywhere bare skin is exposed.
“I love you, Luci. So much.”
“I love you, too,” I say.
He unzips my dress, pulling the sleeves down my arms, and kisses my shoulders. Then he drops to his knees to kiss my now-bare stomach. Heat pulses through me and I pull him up and lead him to bed. At this point, we’re removing our own clothes to go faster.
“I’ve waited so long for this,” I breathe, letting my unzipped dress fall to the floor.
“Not longer than me, I bet.”
“Yeah? I’ve wanted this since the moment you came to my shed, apologizing and begging for my help. You are so sexy when you’re sorry.”
“I’m going to remember that,” he says, his warm hand pressing against my bare thigh and making me tingle. “But I’ve wanted this since you mistook Henry for me and told us both your life story.”
This surprises me so much I blink. “The moment we met?”
“Well, I’m a guy. And you’re very hot.”
“I thought you found me annoying.”
“No, that was you. You found me annoying.”
“Just grumpy.”
“Fair.”
Now neither one of us is either grumpy or annoying as we roll under the covers to discover each other in a brand-new way. There’s zero hesitancy and no holding back. We’re passionate and delicious and glorious and everything I’ve ever fantasized.
But the rest, folks, is fade to black.
Use your imagination.