Chapter 12
“Ihave a detour for us on the way home,” Ryan told Emma the next morning after they’d checked out of the hotel.
“Oh yeah?” She climbed onto the bike behind him, ready to go pretty much anywhere he wanted to take her. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
The engine roared to life beneath them, and she hung on for the ride. In the past month, she’d become just as addicted to motorcycle rides as she had to the man giving them. Ryan guided them out of the hotel’s parking lot and down South Boulevard, past a string of storefronts including House of Ink. They merged onto the highway, the morning air crisp and refreshing as it whipped across her skin. After about ten minutes, they left the highway and meandered through a business park on the outskirts of Charlotte, all but deserted at this hour on a Sunday.
And Emma officially had no clue where Ryan’s detour was taking them.
He guided the bike into a big, empty parking lot in front of a rather nondescript four-story office building. Her gaze caught on a sculpture in front. It was silver and made up of moving pieces, like the figure had been carved into dozens of horizontal slices that rotated back and forth. A fountain sprayed from the front of the sculpture into a large pool.
Ryan parked and turned off the bike. “Cool, right? It’s called Metalmorphosis.”
Emma stared at the moving sculpture, mesmerized. “I love it.”
“When the pieces all line up, it’s the shape of a man’s head.”
“Oh.” She watched the pieces move. “Yeah, I see it now.”
He held his left hand out, as he always did to help her off the bike. She gripped it and climbed off. Together, they walked over to the sculpture and stood watching it. The pieces were shiny, almost like mirrors, reflecting the water below.
“You were having trouble coming up with an idea for the memorial,” Ryan said, sliding an arm around her shoulders. “So I thought we could ride around this morning and see some interesting structures. Maybe something will give you a nudge in the right direction.”
Wow. Her heart squeezed, filling her up with warmth. “That’s really sweet of you.”
He gave her a comical look. “Whatever you do, please don’t call me sweet.”
She leaned in and kissed him. “Fine, but I really appreciate this.” And it might be exactly what she needed. This sculpture was way too trendy for the Town Planning Committee’s taste, but seeing the way the light played off the metal, reflecting the water, was definitely sparking something in her imagination.
After they left Metalmorphosis, Ryan took her to several more landmarks, everything from an old church to something called the Reclining Bulls Statue, which was as odd as its name suggested but oddly inspiring. By the time they rolled onto the highway headed for Haven, Emma’s mind was buzzing with ideas, and she owed it all to Ryan.
Oh yeah, her crush was rapidly blooming into something bigger. Much bigger.
They got to her house just after one o’clock. Ryan had to hurry straight to Off-the-Grid for an afternoon of scheduled rock-climbing lessons so Emma went inside to round up the girls and dish about her night in Charlotte. Except…she and Ryan hadn’t discussed what would happen once they got home. Were they keeping things private or were they officially dating now?
Dating? Or just hooking up? Crap. She slapped a hand to her forehead. She was so bad at this, but whatever it was, it was amazing, and screw it, she needed to share with her friends.
Girls’ night?she texted Gabby, Carly, and Mandy.
I’m in! When and where?Gabby replied almost immediately.
My place. I’m thinking Barbie movie, pizza, and ice cream?Emma texted. She’d been out last night. Tonight, she just wanted to curl up on her couch and hang out with her friends.
Yessss, Mandy texted. I’ll bring the ice cream.
Within minutes, they had the whole thing planned. Emma fist-pumped the air, then went to her room to freshen up and change into a stretchy cotton skirt. The tattoo had been sore ever since she put her jeans back on to ride home from Charlotte. Overall, it wasn’t bothering her too much, though. Ryan had only let her take a quick, lukewarm shower this morning, telling her to avoid hot water until it had healed, which was a bummer, but it would all be worth it in the end.
She stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, letting the skirt sit low on her hips so that she could admire the little red poppy on her skin. She loved it even more than she’d thought she would, and the way Ryan had looked at it…
Phew.
They’d shared one of the most memorable nights of her life. Wherever their relationship went from here, she’d never regret a single moment they’d spent together.
With a happy sigh, Emma went into the living room, Smokey at her heels. She sat down on the couch with a notepad and pencil to start sketching out new ideas for the memorial, and…the next thing she knew, Smokey was meowing in her face. She blinked, glancing at the clock.
It was a few minutes past five, and apparently she’d just slept away the whole afternoon. Her neck protested as she got up, kinked from dozing in an awkward position on the couch. So maybe she hadn’t gotten much sleep last night…
Her phone showed three new text messages. Predictably, the first two were from her friends, still discussing details for tonight. The third was from Ryan. Her heart skittered in her chest at the sight of his name.
Tomorrow after work – your place or mine?
A warm thrill shot through her. Mine, she replied.
I’m there, he texted right back.
She couldn’t wait. In the meantime…
She hurried to order pizzas to be delivered and rented Barbie on her TV. On cue, the doorbell rang. Smokey darted for the safety of the bedroom.
Emma went to open the door. Carly stood there, carrying a bottle of white wine.
“Hi.” Emma motioned her in.
“So are we celebrating or commiserating?” Carly asked.
“I think I know the answer to that question,” Gabby said, coming up the walkway. “I heard Ryan took the day off yesterday and went to Charlotte with you to get a tattoo.”
“You got a tattoo?” Carly exclaimed.
“Yes, but?—”
“More importantly,” Gabby interrupted, “what else did you and Ryan do in Charlotte?”
Emma laughed, ushering them inside. “You ladies cut right to the chase, don’t you? Shouldn’t we wait for Mandy to get here before I tell all?”
“Yes, yes, you should,” Mandy said from the doorway, two tubs of ice cream in her arms.
Emma took the ice cream from her and walked to the kitchen to put it in the freezer. Carly opened the bottle of wine and poured four glasses. Wineglasses in hand, they headed for the living room.
“So, I got a tattoo yesterday,” Emma said.
“Cool! What is it?” Carly asked.
“And where?” Mandy added.
“It’s a red poppy, on my hip.” She pushed down the waistband of her skirt to show it to them.
“Oh, wow. I love it,” Gabby said. The others agreed.
“Did it hurt a lot?” Carly asked. “I’ve been thinking of getting one, too.”
“Not too bad. It was pretty quick, anyway, for such a small tattoo.” Emma took a gulp of her wine. “And to answer Gabby’s other question—yes, Ryan and I spent the night in Charlotte, and yes, it’s exactly what you’re thinking.”
“Oh my God!” Gabby squealed, clapping her hands together in delight. “Tell us everything.”
“Well”—Emma could feel herself blushing already—“maybe not everything, but let’s just say, the sex was everything I was hoping for and then some.”
“Way to go.” Mandy looked impressed. “It’s about time you had a little excitement in your life.”
“Yes, it was.” Emma chewed her bottom lip. “You guys want to hear something funny?”
They all nodded, hanging on her every word.
“I’ve had a crush on Ryan since high school.” There, she’d said it. She’d never told a soul about her crush on Ryan. As a teen, it had seemed ridiculous. He was so much older and cooler. And as an adult, she’d just felt silly still harboring feelings for her teenage crush. But now? Now she’d slept with him, and the idea of her and Ryan was definitely not farfetched.
“Really?” Gabby’s eyes were wide. “Wow. I never would have guessed.”
“This changes things,” Mandy said, tapping her wineglass thoughtfully.
“How so?” Emma asked.
“Because now this is much more than a casual hookup between two people who happen to be friends,” Mandy said.
“She’s right,” Carly said. “You’ve been fantasizing about him since high school? That’s a long time. You’re probably already halfway in love with him, aren’t you?”
“What? No!” Somehow she managed to dump her glass of wine in her lap. “Crap.”
They were all staring at her.
“Seriously, I am not in love with Ryan. Not even close.” She stood to go change out of her wine-stained skirt just as the doorbell rang. “That’s the pizza.”
“I’ve got it,” Mandy said, waving her off.
Emma hurried into her bedroom and closed the door behind her. Smokey lay curled in the middle of her bed, eyeing her cautiously, as if she feared Emma might invite these intruders into her inner sanctum. Emma walked to the closet and pulled out a jersey dress, tossing her wine-stained clothes into the laundry basket.
She wasn’t in love with Ryan. She’d always been pretty honest with herself about her emotions. So she could admit—to herself at least—that she had real feelings for him, feelings that went far beyond a casual hookup, but it wasn’t love. Not yet. It definitely could be, if she stayed with him for too long. So she’d have to be careful not to let that happen because she was pretty sure the whole point of “friends with benefits” was to keep messy feelings out of the equation. And if she got into the program at the University of Georgia, she’d be leaving Haven in a few months anyway.
She walked back out to find the girls gathered in the kitchen, filling plates with pizza.
“So you were telling us about how you’re not in love with Ryan?” Mandy said with a grin.
“I’m really not. This is just a fling, an adventure before I leave town.”
“Mm-hmm,” Mandy said. “I have a feeling in a few months, we’ll be saying, ‘We told you so.’”
Ryan pacedthe aisles of the grocery store after work on Monday. This afternoon he’d remembered something Emma had said to him a few weeks ago at Off-the-Grid, about how she wanted to have the kind of sex she’d only read about in romance novels. He had no friggin’ clue what kind of sex people had in her books, and he sure as hell couldn’t ask anyone about it so he was just going to have to wing it. Because he wanted to be the man who gave Emma the kind of mind-blowing sex she’d only read about.
Yeah, he’d lost his mind.
And that was why he found himself at the grocery store after he’d left Off-the-Grid, shopping for “accessories” for his evening with Emma. If Ethan or Mark saw him now, he’d never hear the end of it. He paid for his purchases and left quickly, tucking the bag into one of the saddlebags on his bike before heading toward Emma’s apartment.
He was feeling all sorts of things as he rode toward her building. Desire. Excitement. And a small amount of trepidation that things wouldn’t be the same here on their own home turf. That he’d violated some kind of bro code by sleeping with his best friend’s little sister, the same sister Derek had warned him to keep his hands off of.
All of that faded away when he pulled into her driveway and saw her standing there in the doorway, wearing a white tank top and a striped skirt that sat low enough on her hips to show off her new tattoo.
His. She was his, and she was perfect.
He walked to her and pulled her into his arms. “Hey.”
“Hi.” She twined her hands around his neck, smiling up at him. “What’s in the bag?”
“A few, uh, things.”
“I’m intrigued,” she said, peeking down at the plastic grocery bag in his right hand.
He stepped her backward through her front door and closed it behind them. “That’s better.”
Then he set the bag down and flattened her against him as he lowered his mouth to hers. Her lips parted, inviting him inside, and damn, he was lost. He kissed her until all the chaos in his brain had stilled, replaced by the fire Emma had ignited inside him. This woman. Would he ever get enough?
“Okay, I’m curious,” Emma said when they’d come up for air. She bent down to pick up the bag, poking through it with a big smile on her face. “Whipped cream. Chocolate syrup. And champagne. Well, well, what did you have in mind tonight, Hot Stuff?”
What he might have gained in intent, he definitely lost in presentation. Dropping a plastic shopping bag of sex foods in her foyer was definitely not how the guys in her romance novels did it. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “Um?—”
“For the record,” she said as she walked toward the kitchen with the bottle of champagne in her hands, “whatever it is, I am definitely interested.”
He gave himself an internal high five. “That so?”
“Yes.” She wrapped a hand towel around the neck of the champagne bottle and popped the cork. Then she went up on her tiptoes to take two champagne flutes out of a top cabinet and filled them. “To an evening of sugary experimentation,” she said, holding one of the glasses out to him.
“Sounds a bit kinky,” he said with a grin as he clinked his glass against hers.
“Indeed.” She took a drink as a smile played about her lips. “You are always full of surprises, Ryan Blake.”
“You bring it out in me.”
They stared at each other for a moment. Then she walked into his arms. “What the hell are we standing around in the kitchen for?”
“Good question.” He picked up their champagne flutes and waited for her to lead the way to her bedroom. She paused in the hallway to pick up the bag of goodies he’d brought. He followed her through the doorway into a very girly bedroom with a flowery bedspread, lacy curtains, and a pissed-off-looking gray cat sprawled in the middle of the bed, regarding him through icy blue eyes.
“Get lost, Smokey,” she said, shooing the cat with her hands. It glared at her and slunk off into her closet. Emma pulled the bottle of chocolate syrup out of the bag, squirted some onto her finger, and sucked it into her mouth.
His dick surged against his zipper. “Strip.”
Her eyes widened. She set the bottle on the table beside her bed then reached down and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt. With a little smile, she eased it down over her hips, revealing white, lacy panties. It was all he could do not to put his hands on her, but watching her undress herself was its own form of foreplay.
She dropped her skirt to the floor then slowly lifted her top over her head, leaving her in nothing but panties, and, fuck, she was stunning. That tattoo…
She wiggled out of her panties, and then, completely naked, she sat on the edge of her bed, crossing one leg over the other. “Your turn.” She pointed a finger at him. “Strip.”
He shucked his clothes in record time, his dick growing even harder beneath her heated gaze. As he watched, she pushed the comforter off the end of the bed and beckoned for him to join her. He slid onto the bed beside her, his thigh skimming hers, and that contact alone was enough to make his pulse pound.
Emma reached for the bottle of chocolate syrup, a wicked smile on her face. She pushed him down flat on the bed and drizzled sauce across his chest, stopping just short of his dick.
He sucked in a harsh breath. “Fuck. Maybe we should have warmed it up first.”
Her mouth formed a sexy little O. “Cold?”
Yes, but indescribably hot at the same time. “Not anymore.”
“I’ll warm you up,” she said, and bent her head. Her tongue swirled across his chest, licking at the sauce. Holy fucking shit. He fisted his hands in the sheets and squeezed his eyes shut. By the time she’d reached his belly button, he was done for.
He sat up, flipping the tables before she took him past the point of no return.
“My turn.” He reached for the bottle.
Emma lay back, her cheeks already flushed, her breathing rapid. He trailed syrup over her breasts and stomach, making her squirm. “Okay, you’re right. It’s cold.”
He kissed her breast, then tugged her nipple between his teeth and gave it a slight nip. Emma lurched beneath him, her hips arching up to meet his. He took his time sucking all the chocolate from her breasts. At some point, he dipped his hand between her legs, stroking her as he followed the chocolate trail across her body.
Emma writhed beneath him, her hips pushing against his hand. He gave her the pressure that she needed, sliding two fingers inside her as he went.
He kissed his way down her belly, and she arched up off the bed. “Ryan?—”
“Go ahead, baby,” he murmured. “Come for me.”
And she did. Her hips bucked against his hand, and the expression on her face as she came was so fucking gorgeous. He pressed himself against her, letting her pleasure fuel the need already pounding in his dick.
“Wow,” she whispered.
“That was hot.”
She rolled over, squirted chocolate syrup onto her palms, and wrapped her hands around his dick. “You know? I think I’m a fan of chocolate sauce.”
He groaned. “Me, too, baby. Me, too.”
Emma lay in bed,a little bit chocolatey and a whole lot satisfied. “That was amazing.”
“As good as what you read about in romance novels?” Ryan asked, an oddly serious look on his face.
“What?” Where in the world did that question come from?
“You told me that day at Off-the-Grid,” he said. “You wanted the kind of sex you’d read about in romance novels.”
Ooh. Yes, she did remember saying that. At the time, she’d mainly been trying to push his buttons, but it was true, too. She’d wanted the kind of toe-curling, mind-blowing sex she’d read about and hadn’t been sure was possible in real life. Was this why he’d shown up with champagne and gooey accessories? If so, that was…well, it was adorable. And also maybe the most romantic and thoughtful thing a man had ever done for her. Oh, her heart… “Actually, I think we crossed that one off in Charlotte. You’ve got nothing to worry about in that department.”
He smiled, his expression softening. “Good to know. Shower?”
“That’s a definite yes.” She was a sticky mess, and he probably was, too. She slid out of bed and led the way into the bathroom. “How long do I have to take these quickie, lukewarm showers?”
“Another week or so,” he said. “So as much as I’d like to utilize this shower for a different kind of quickie, better not.”
She pouted. “That’s a tragedy.”
“Indeed.” He was smiling, but his cock was already hard again, jutting toward her in silent invitation.
“Maybe we should wash each other? You know, to be speedy.” She hopped in, crooking a finger in his direction.
“I like the way you think.” He stepped in behind her and grabbed the bar of soap.
She gasped as his hands slid up her sides to cup her breasts. The lukewarm water was a definite turnoff, but his hands were hot enough to make up for it. She helped herself to some suds and took him in her hands.
He was rock hard beneath her touch, but equally intent on keeping his word to get them in and out of the shower quickly. So they lathered up—while working themselves into a lather—rinsed off, and dashed back to her bed, where Ryan took her right outside herself with pleasure all over again.
“That was amazing,” she murmured against his neck as they lay tangled in each other’s arms.
“It’s the craziest thing,” he said, stroking her hair. “You and me, together like this.”
“Maybe that’s part of what makes it so great. We’ve known each other so long, there’s none of that awkward getting to know you stuff.”
“Maybe.” He sounded thoughtful. “I’ve never slept with a friend before. Hell, you’re my only female friend, Em. I guess we just proved that saying about men and women not being able to be friends without wanting to sleep together.”
“Yes.” She giggled. “Although, I have to admit, I’ve never had sexy thoughts about Ethan or Mark.”
His arm tightened around her. “Good.”
They were quiet for a minute, just lying in each other’s arms.
“We’re kind of alike, I guess,” he said finally. “No real family to call our own. Just our own little makeshift family of fellow misfits.”
“Yeah.” Her throat felt tight. She’d been lucky; she hadn’t ended up in foster care, but she’d always felt out of place in the Mackenzies’ home. They’d been wonderful, but they weren’t family. Ryan understood. “The misfits of Haven. That’s us.”
“It made it bearable…having you guys,” he said.
“Even if you treated me like I was a pesky little gnat?” She nudged him playfully.
“You were a pesky little gnat in high school.” There was humor in his voice. “But you turned out okay.”
“That’s good to know.” She giggled, glad they could find humor in such a serious topic. Then she sobered. “Do you think about your mom a lot?”
He was silent for a few seconds. “Yeah. You?”
She nodded, as tears burned her eyes. “Every day. I could have used her advice a time or three when you were making me crazy last month, trying to keep us in the friend zone.”
Ryan frowned. “I think she’d have told you I was right.”
“In high school? Yes. But not now.” No, she had a feeling her mom would approve of Emma dating modern-day Ryan very much.
“She’d have kicked my ass if she didn’t approve,” he said with a smile.
“This is true.” Her mom had been feisty, and opinionated, and fiercely protective of Emma and Derek.
“You know, there weren’t many parents who liked me back then, and let’s face it, they weren’t wrong. I was bad news. But your mom…she was all right. She wasn’t crazy about Derek hanging out with me, but she didn’t write me off either. In fact, she had my back a few times, tried to point me in the right direction. I’ll never forget that.”
“Really?” Hot tears splashed over her cheeks. “She never told me.”
“She was one of the good ones,” Ryan said softly, reaching up to wipe her tears away.
“Yeah, she was. Not many people know what it feels like, losing your mom when you’re still a kid.” She’d been fifteen. Ryan had been eleven. Maybe the hardest time to lose a parent, in that delicate age between childhood and adolescence.
“Hell of a thing to have in common, but there it is.” He tugged her in closer.
“Well, it’s nice somehow…to be able to talk about it with someone who understands. I don’t know, that doesn’t really make any sense, does it?”
“Makes perfect sense to me,” he said.
“I’m glad,” she whispered, holding on to him. She smiled against his chest. “Another advantage of this ‘friends with benefits’ thing…deep conversations we’d never have with someone we’d only been dating a few days.”
“Yeah.”
They lay there for a while, naked and entwined, talking about everything from her brother to his future plans at Off-the-Grid. It was nice, and comfortable, and…intimate.
“Hungry?” he asked as the sky outside her bedroom window glowed with the golden tones of sunset.
“Starved. Want to go to Rowdy’s?”
“Yeah.” Something in his expression loosened, as if it were a relief for him, too, that they could maintain the casual aspects of their friendship even while they were burning up the sheets together.
They dressed, and she tamed her sex-rumpled hair before they walked outside. “Um.” She eyed his bike, then looked down at her skirt. “How about I drive this time?”
“Deal,” he agreed. They chatted easily on the short drive into town, and she parked in the public lot beside the Town Square. “Any new ideas for the memorial?” he asked as they walked past its future site.
“I’m working on a new design that I’m kind of excited about.” Really excited about, if she were being perfectly honest with herself, which made her doubly nervous to show it to the Town Planning Committee.
“That’s great,” Ryan said, giving her hand a squeeze.
“Your little detour yesterday really worked. Thank you.”
“Any time.” They walked hand-in-hand through the door into Rowdy’s, passing Ethan on his way out, carrying a to-go box.
He broke into a wide grin, his gaze passing between them. “So the rumors are true then.”
“Fuck you,” Ryan said, flipping him off.
“Nah. I’ll stick with Gabby. You two lovebirds enjoy yourselves.” With a wave, he was gone.
Emma shook her head with a smile as the hostess showed them to a table. Not their group’s usual table, but a smaller one, near the back. It felt…odd. Like this table for two made the shift in their relationship real in a way all the sex somehow hadn’t.
Ryan looked shaken by it, too. “Huh,” he said as he sat across from her.
Okay, so there was definitely going to be an adjustment phase for them. “At least we know each other well enough to just say, hey, it’s weird sitting at a different table?” She tilted her head with a smile.
“Yeah.” He looked relieved. “That is good.”
“And you don’t have to ask me what I want, because you already know I want to share a platter of wings. And I don’t have to worry about getting wing sauce on my face and looking like a slob in front of my date because, well…you’re you.” She winked at him.
“Good to know.”
Their waitress approached, a woman named Tina, who often served them. She glanced between them, one eyebrow raised, as she took their order. Small town like this, they were certain to get plenty of raised eyebrows, but Emma didn’t mind.
“How’s Trent?” she asked once Tina had left. “I haven’t seen him around much lately.”
Ryan frowned. “He’s spending too much time at that damn club, if you ask me.”
“It’s not the best use of his free time, but really, there are so many worse things he could be doing.”
“Believe me, I know. I guess I just want him to be more mature than I was at his age. I want him to realize he’s making a dumb-ass mistake by not sticking with college.”
“College isn’t everything.”
Ryan looked down at his hands. “Hell, I know that. I never went, and I turned out okay. But Trent had a four-year education at a great school just dumped in his lap, and he’s throwing it away.”
“I know.” She knew because, at Trent’s age, she would have given anything for the opportunity to attend college. “I get it. But he has to decide for himself, and if you push too hard, it’s going to backfire on you.”
Ryan scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Know that, too.”
She laid her palm over his. “You love him. You want what’s best for him. But you guys just found each other. Try to enjoy having him here and let his parents worry about kicking his ass when he’d stupid, okay?”