God, isn’t that a loaded question. Yeah, I thought I knew this girl. I thought she was someone I would talk to every single day for the rest of my life. I thought she was my best friend. I pry my eyes away, grabbing Mitch’s beer and chugging the rest of it. “No,” I growl and take one last look at her. “I have to get out of here. I’ll see you back at base.” I shove my way out of the bar before anyone can say anything.
The fresh night air hits me as soon as I get on the sidewalk and lets my lungs fill before exhaling. I know I can’t run all the way back to base, but I can at least get part of the way there and then call an Uber when I can’t make it any farther. I start running, letting my legs warm up before pushing them harder. I don’t need an injury right now, but I also need to clear my head.I don’t have my earphones, so all I hear are cars driving by, people talking as I run by, and my feet pounding on the pavement. My strides get longer, and before long, I fly past everything. Even if I tried to see what the details of a person’s face were, I couldn’t.
I push myself harder and harder. She was at the bar with another guy. A woman startles as I run around her, but I don’t slow down. I would have done anything for her, and I almost put my fears aside and followed her to college. But would I have been the man she needed me to be? My legs burn, but I push harder. Could I have grown as a person when I was in constant fear of becoming someone like my dad? I turn and go down another sidewalk, but this one is up a hill, and my breathing gets louder as I keep going. That man took off, and I haven’t heard from him in years. He wasn’t able to take my childhood home, and he bolted. It pissed him off that I joined the military because he wanted me to be like him. I am nothing like him.
My legs halt halfway up the hill, and I bend over, breathing heavily. My eyes pinch closed while I try to calm down, but I can’t. I collapse to the ground and put my head between my knees. My lungs burn and my legs throb, but the relief I feel is instant.
I am nothing like him.
After months of being gone and throwing myself into this lifestyle, I can finally say I’m nothing like my dad. He was always cutting corners at work, trying to get the most money for the least amount of work. I am always doing extra and helping others when I don’t need to. He didn’t care if he hurt someone as long as he was happy. It kills me that I couldn’t be the man Rylee deserved, and one day, I’ll fix it with her.
A car pulls over next to me, and the passenger door swings open. Mitch straightens in his seat behind the wheel. He jerks his head to the side. “Come on. Get in.”
33
RYLEE: NOW
What just happened?I’m staring blankly at the TV playing a re-run of Gilmore Girls, but even though it’s my favorite show, I couldn’t tell you one thing that’s happening. When I suggested a casual sex agreement, I didn’t expect him to make it so—amazing. We connected again, but also in a way that I have never connected with him before. I initially thought it would be a one-and-done type of thing, but how can that happen when all I can think about is seeing him naked, and how it felt when he was moving inside me? He didn’t make me feel cheap. He cared that I enjoyed myself and wanted to take care of me more than he wanted to take care of himself. I’ve never had two orgasms with a guy before. But that only makes me more nervous to keep it up with him. I can see myself falling hard for him, but I can’t do that. I won’t let myself.
Socks snores on my bed next to me, making my daydreaming take a major detour. “You don’t have to be so loud, you know?” Her ears perk, hearing my voice. I slump back on my pillows, grab my iPad, and continue looking for supplies I will need for the kitchen remodel. It’s been too long since I’vedeep-dived into a project, and I’ve been looking forward to redoing my kitchen for a long time.
I’m partnering with Home Depot since I can get the most products from them. I already placed an order for the cabinet sizes I will need, and they will be unfinished. I can’t wait to stain them to make them look like oak. But I’m doing something different with my countertops, and I think my followers will love it. White concrete. I’ll have to hire a few extra hands to help mix and level it when it’s time to pour, but I ordered from this company that has all the mold supplies I will need. The first thing on my to-do list is: demo.
Since Clayton doesn’t need me to work with him anymore after we finished that project, I’m now back to full-time DIY. Planning a project is one of my favorite parts. I love imagining a space’s potential, and I can already picture the brick flooring beneath my feet with oak wood cabinets and white concrete countertops. The backsplash will also be brick, but I’ll over-grout it to make it look like puffy clouds once I paint it all white. It took longer to search the Home Depot website to find the right lights to go above the kitchen island, but I’ve fallen in love with these large brass dome lights that’ll hang from the ceiling.
I startle awake when there’s a loud banging on my front door, causing Socks to jump off the bed and bolt into the living room. I must have fallen asleep planning and watching TV. I grumble, throwing my comforter off. I’m wearing blue plaid girl boxer shorts and a thin tank top, but I’m too tired to care or to grab my robe before walking to the front door.
“Someone better be dying to get me out of bed this early on a Monday.” As soon as I open the front door, Clayton bursts inside, raking his hand through his dirty blonde hair. “Please, come on in.” I sweep my arm toward the living room, then shut the door.
“So glad you could sleep.” He laughs with no humor in histone as he crosses his arms across his chest, standing in the middle of my living room.
“I don’t even know what you mean, and it’s too early for me to figure it out.” I rub the sleep from my eyes, then look at him. His shirt is a wrinkled mess, and I already assume he grabbed it from a pile on the floor. One of his jean legs isn’t fully over his boot, and his hair is sticking up in all different directions, seeming like he has raked his fingers through it multiple times. But the biggest thing that stands out are his eyes, his brown eyes look darker, and I do a double-take. “Are you okay?”
“Am I—” He scoffs, then storms toward me, grabbing my face in his hands. “No, I’m not okay.”
My breath catches in my throat, waiting to see what he’s about to do. My entire body is now on high alert as his thumbs stroke my cheeks and his fingers dig into the back of my neck. I can feel his belt buckle pressing into my stomach as he towers over me. My eyes are wide. His face inches closer as his eyes flick to my mouth.
He exhales, pressing his forehead against mine. “You have filled my every thought, and I just had to see you before I started a long day at work.”
“Clay.” His name escapes my mouth like a whisper, and I almost go weak at the knees.
His hands trail down my body before they grip my hips, feeling his fingertips through the thin fabric of my shorts. He backs me against a wall, pressing his body into mine as he leans in closer.
His eyes scan my face. “Ry,” he breathes out, crashing his lips against mine. His hands are firm as he holds my body. His kiss is urgent, like he couldn’t start his day without this, without me. My hands trail up his chest to around the back of his neck, pressing my body against his. His fingers rake hot trails up and under my shirt, holding my sides. He nips at mylower lip before trailing kisses down my neck. Our first kiss was only yesterday, but I already feel like he knows how I like to be kissed and how much I like being held so close. My breathing is heavy, and my chest rubs against him through my thin tank top.
It’s hard to think clearly with him kissing me. His lips press below my ear, and I moan. How did he get so good at this? I’ve never known him to have a girlfriend, but holy hell, he’s amazing. It’s like his lips are making fire spread through my body and settle between my legs. His fingers inch higher, bringing my shirt up with them. God, I need more. I need . . .
I startle as there’s a knock on the door, physically jarring me back to reality. Clayton exhales, pressing his forehead into the crook of my neck.
“I should get that,” I whisper. His fingers skim down my body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I have to keep myself from shivering and peel myself off the door. Clayton steps to the side, allowing me space and staying out of sight of the door opening. I tuck my hair behind my ears and pull down my shirt, realizing my nipples are noticeably puckering through. I cross an arm over them to hide it since I’m now awake enough to care.
“Are you going to leave me out here all day, or do I need to get my key?” Trish yells from the other side of the closed door.
Yanking open the door, my eyes narrow on my best friend. “What are you doing here?” I ask as calmly as possible, not wanting to scream at her for interrupting me getting groped first thing in the morning.
“Geez, thanks for the welcome wagon. I know you aren’t a morning person, but I figured you’d like coffee and a donut while you help me choose an outfit for the thing I have later.”
My hand grasps the door harder as my forehead presses against it. I glance at Clayton, behind the door. “What thing?”
