13
Charm
Ryan’s alarm went off somewhere in the darkness beside us, loud enough to rip through the warmth of his bedroom and remind me that the tiny reprieve we’d been given was already ending.
I groaned before opening my eyes and tightened my arm around his waist as if I could physically convince time to cooperate.
Ryan laughed softly against the top of my head. “That’s not going to make it stop, mi hada.”
“It could if you believed in me a little more.”
“I believe in you plenty. I don’t believe you have the power to cancel morning skate from my bed.”
I cracked one eye open and immediately regretted it. Pale morning light had started pushing through the blinds, revealing the clothes scattered across his floor and the empty beer bottle sitting on the nightstand beside the alarm he still hadn’t bothered silencing.
“Ryan, make it die.”
His chest moved beneath my cheek when he laughed again. One long arm reached across me to smack the screen of his phone, and silence dropped over the room so abruptly that I sank deeper into him with a satisfied sigh.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, princesa.”
I was naked beneath his sheets and tangled around a naked Ryan like I had every intention of physically preventing him from leaving the mattress again.
After everything he had told me last night and everything he had finally allowed me to see, waking up wrapped around him felt almost unbearably intimate.
The sex had changed something between us, but seeing his body had changed something too.
I had spent months catching pieces of his tattoos.
Now I understood what they meant. I knew his mother’s name, the truth of his history, and the neighborhood he still carried across his back.
He had hidden everything in plain sight while the rest of the world saw ink, muscles, and an arrogant hockey player who could walk into any room knowing exactly how much attention followed him.
I knew what I was looking at now.
Ryan’s hand traveled lazily along my bare back beneath the sheet. “You’re thinking too loud.”
“I’m not saying anything.”
“You don’t have to.”
“That’s incredibly annoying.”
“I know.”
I tilted my head to look at him. His hair was a disaster, and his face was softer with sleep than I was used to seeing. The sight did something uncomfortable to my chest because I knew what was coming next.
“You’re leaving again.”
The teasing faded from his expression. “Tomorrow.”
“I know.”
“You said that like I’m walking out the door in five minutes.”
“It feels like you just got here.”
“I did just get here.”
“Exactly.”
His thumb moved slowly against my spine. “Charm.”
I pushed myself up enough to rest my chin on his chest. “I know hockey is your job, and I know this is what the season looks like. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty.”
“You’re allowed to hate it.”
“I do.”
“Good.”
That made me smile despite myself. “Good?”
“It means you want me here.”
“I think last night made that reasonably clear.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“Don’t start.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was thinking it.”
“Apparently that counts now.”
“It does when I can read you.”
I rolled my eyes and settled against him again, but the ache didn’t leave.
It had been easier before I understood what missing Ryan actually felt like.
Before Chicago, before six days of texts and FaceTime calls, and before we spent all that time circling the same argument, I could still tell myself whatever existed between us had boundaries.
Last night had destroyed those boundaries.
Ryan went quiet for a moment, his fingers drawing absent patterns against my skin before he spoke again.
“If I only ever get one day between hockey, I’ll come to you.”
I lifted my head and found him watching me. “One day?”
“One fucking day.”
“That’s a lot of driving.”
“I know how cars work.”
“Ryan.”
“I’m serious.” He caught a strand of my hair and moved it away from my face. “If I’ve got enough time to get back here and see you, I’m coming.”
My throat tightened. “What happens when you can’t?”
“You’ll be busy.”
“I’ll still miss you.”
His hand settled at the back of my neck. “Then call me. Text, FaceTime, or use whatever else you need. I might not answer the second you call if I’m on the ice or in film, but I’ll answer when I can.”
Something about the certainty in his voice made my heart squeeze. “You make it sound simple.”
“It can be.”
I studied him for several seconds before the question that had been sitting beneath my tongue since Chicago finally escaped.
“What happens now?”
Ryan went still beneath me. He didn’t look alarmed or angry, but the quiet attention settling over his face made me immediately wish I could pull the question back.
“That came out very eighth grade.”
His mouth twitched, but he didn’t rescue me.
I narrowed my eyes. “You could help.”
“I’m thinking.”
“That’s never comforting.”
He slid his hand from my neck to my shoulder. “What do you want to happen?”
The question landed differently than I expected. Ryan wasn’t going to name this for me or tell me which words I was allowed to use. He had spent weeks asking me to choose him, and now he was waiting for me to do it without hiding inside an answer he provided.
I flattened my palm over his chest and felt his heartbeat beneath it. “I want us.”
Something softened in his face. “We already agreed there isn’t anybody else.”
“I know. I mean more than that.” My nerves tightened, but I refused to let them silence me. “I want you to be my boyfriend.”
Ryan’s entire body went still beneath mine.
The word sounded almost embarrassingly ordinary compared to what he had trusted me with last night, but it mattered. It gave us a place in each other’s lives that couldn’t be dismissed as hanging out, tutoring, or whatever careful explanation I invented when someone looked too closely.
His fingers tightened slightly against my shoulder. “Say it again.”
“I want you to be my boyfriend.”
A slow, satisfied warmth moved through his expression. “That sounds pretty fucking good coming out of your mouth.”
“I had a feeling you might like it.”
“I like it a lot.” His gaze moved over my face. “What’s scaring you?”
The question found the anxiety I’d been trying to hold down before I could disguise it.
“I need to tell my parents.”
His expression sharpened immediately. I continued before he could misunderstand what I meant.
“I’m not asking to hide you, Ryan. I need them to hear it from me before Bliss tells Daniel Bennett, who tells Knox who see’s my mom every day, or somebody says something around somebody else and it gets back to them.”
Ryan watched me carefully.
“The truth is, they’re going to be cruel.
” Saying it aloud hurt more than I expected.
“They’re going to have opinions about you, hockey, Flint, where you came from, your tattoos, and every stupid thing they can find that doesn’t fit whatever version of my life they already decided I’m supposed to have. ”
His expression hardened, but I kept my hand over his heart.
“I need to face that.”
“Alone?”
The quiet question carried enough tension that I shook my head immediately. “I won’t be alone. I’ll have you.”
His eyes narrowed slightly as he waited for the distinction.
“I need to do it without you sitting beside me and fighting my battle for me.”
Ryan stared at me. That might have been the first time I had ever said anything like that and believed I could follow through.
“I need to be the one who tells them this is my choice.” I pressed my palm more firmly against his chest. “You’re my choice.”
Some of the tension left his shoulders.
“I need them to hear it from me first. I need to say it before they can turn it into something I was caught doing.” I held his gaze, refusing to retreat from the promise I had made on his steps. “I’m asking for the chance to tell them myself, not permission to pretend you aren’t mine.”
Ryan’s hand closed around my wrist. “When?”
“This week.”
“When this week?”
“My dad’s birthday dinner is Wednesday.”
His face changed immediately. “You’re telling him on his birthday?”
I winced. “When you say it like that, it sounds slightly hostile.”
“It sounds fucking hilarious.”
“It’s dinner at the Westerly Steak House. My mother planned it months ago, and there will probably be enough expensive wine involved that nobody can throw anything without embarrassing themselves.”
“That’s comforting.”
“I’m trying to be optimistic.”
“You?”
“Shut up.”
He smiled faintly, and I took a breath before continuing.
“I can do it there.”
Ryan’s thumb moved against the inside of my wrist. “You can?”
“I need to.” I looked down at our hands. “I can spend the next couple of days building myself up to it, and if everything goes completely to hell, I know you’re only a phone call away.”
His expression softened. “I’ll answer.”
“I know.”
“Even if I’m busy.”
“I know.”
“If I’m at practice, I’ll call you the second I get off the ice.”
My eyes burned unexpectedly. Ryan noticed because he always noticed every reaction I wanted to hide.
“Hey, don’t start that shit after last night.”
I laughed quietly and wiped beneath one eye before anything could fall. “I’m not crying.”
“You’re thinking about it.”
“I’m emotionally considering my options.”
“That sounds like crying with paperwork.”
A laugh burst out of me, easing some of the pressure inside my chest. I leaned down and kissed him, but Ryan caught me around the waist before I could pull away. He rolled us until I landed beneath him with a surprised squeak.
“Ryan.”
He hovered over me with a smile playing across his mouth. “You do one thing for me Wednesday.”
“What?”
“You don’t go quiet.”
My smile faded.
“If it goes bad, you don’t disappear into your head and decide you need three days to figure out what everybody else thinks before you talk to me.”
“I won’t.”
“I’m serious, Charm.”
“I know.”
His gaze held mine with enough intensity that I understood the promise he was asking me to make. This wasn’t only about answering the phone. He was asking me not to lock him outside while I decided whether everyone else’s judgment mattered more than what we had built.
“No going dark on me,” he continued. “If you’re pissed, call me. If you’re crying, call me. If your father says something shitty and you want to throw a wineglass, call me before you catch a felony.”
I smiled despite the knot tightening in my stomach. “You’ll talk me out of it?”
“Depends how expensive the glass is.”
“Ryan.”
“I’ll talk you out of it.”
I slid my hands around the back of his neck. “What if I panic?”
“You call me.”
“What if I start thinking they might be right?”
His expression changed. “Then you definitely fucking call me.”
I nodded beneath him. “Okay.”
Ryan lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me slowly enough that everything inside me softened again. When he pulled back, his nose brushed mine.
“So, you’re my girlfriend.”
Warmth spread through me so quickly that it was embarrassing. “I am.”
“And I’m your boyfriend.”
“You sound very pleased with yourself.”
“I’ve been waiting four fucking years to hear you say it. I’m allowed to enjoy the moment.”
I stared up at him, my heart swelling against my ribs. “We don’t need a dramatic Facebook announcement.”
His mouth curved. “I’m adapting to your generation.”
“You’re twenty-five.”
“Ancient.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
He kissed the corner of my mouth. “No Facebook status required, princesa, but nobody gets to call this hanging out again.”
I winced because he had every right to make me feel that one. “Nobody will.”
His eyes searched mine, and I knew he heard the promise beneath the words. He had trusted me with the parts of him he kept hidden, and I would face my parents before I let anyone reduce him to something shameful.
“And just so we’re clear,” he continued, “you’re still very fucking taken.”
“That part was already established.”
“I enjoy reminding you.”
“And you?”
His expression shifted into that cocky Ryan look I knew too well. “Baby, I’ve been fucking taken. You’re the one who needed three business days and a Spanish lesson to catch up.”
I shoved his shoulder. Ryan laughed and caught my wrist before I could do it again, pinning my hand gently beside my head as his mouth returned to mine.
“You’re obnoxious.”
“You like me.”
“That remains debatable.”
“You drove four hours to Chicago.”
“I was temporarily confused.”
“You learned Spanish.”
“For educational purposes.”
“You sat on my stairs for an hour.”
“I enjoy concrete.”
His laugh broke against my lips. “Liar.”
I kissed him before he could say anything else. Ryan released my wrist and slid his hand slowly along my side beneath the sheet. His teasing expression gave way to something warmer as he looked down at me, and then he lowered his mouth beside my ear.
“Quiero estar dentro de ti una vez más, mi hada.”
Every nerve in my body woke beneath his hand.
I turned my face toward his. “Translate.”
His mouth curved against my cheek. “I want to be inside you one more time, my fairy.”