Nothing could ever come close.
4
The Way We Were
Laney
The sun filters in through a crack in the curtains, and I startle because I can’t make out the layout of my bedroom. I give a series of rapid blinks, dizzy and bleary-eyed at my foreign surroundings. The dresser is bigger…and why is the door on the other side of the room? I lean up on my elbow and squeeze my eyes shut tight once again until the room warbles in and out of existence. The door, the dresser, the man breathing heavily next to me—
I seize the sheet over my naked body and slide in the opposite direction a good two feet.
Crap! I let out a little squeal as I give a one-eyed stare over at the penis slinger snoring next to me. Last night comes crashing back like an avalanche of spinning Christmas trees and blowjobs, and I groan as I dread to face my new reality. I glance at him with his dark rumpled hair, his strong wide back turned toward me.
Dear God let that be Ryder.
I hope to God I didn’t hallucinate last night with some not-so-close second and pretended to be having sex with my ex while sucking down the man juice of some drunk fifty year old I picked up at the Black Bear.
I kick him in the thigh, and he obediently rolls over exposing the fact that the penis slinger snoring next to me is very much sexier-than-hell Ryder Capwell, and thankfully so, or I’d have to tiptoe the hell out of here while clutching my costume like a toddler.
It all comes back to me with perfect clarity. Whiskey—that stupid,stupidauction.
I glance over at him once again. There he is, in his immaculate state of early morning duress. I’m guessing that tent peg lifting the sheets at his crotch is exactly how he plans on saying good morning.
My fingers glide to my throbbing forehead and I sigh because, for one, I’m not safely tucked in Prescott Hall—hell, I’m nowhere near Whitney Briggs, and a wild fear grips me. I could call a cab but I don’t have my wallet. I could call Baya or Roxy, but I don’t have my phone, and God knows I don’t have anybody’s number memorized.
Ryder turns into me, and his hands swipe for my waist. Something in the motion—in that subconscious act brings back all those old feelings, and I break. I scoot in and let his arm find me, scooping me next to him like I belong there. His snoring ceases as he latches on and the touch of a smile glides over his lips. I want to say something, kiss him, or wrap my hand around that early morning greeting of his that’s scraping against my thigh. But if I remember correctly, we’re down one protective hedge and about a fifth of whiskey.
Then on cue, my head begins to throb as if the sun itself had detonated in my skull. I rub my temples for a moment.
“No, no,no,” I moan.
“Yes, yes,yes.” He pulls me in by the small of the back until my chest crushes against his and lands a hot morning kiss over my lips. I don’t hesitate to take more than he’s giving and plunge my tongue into his searing mouth. What the hell, I’ve already crossed every imaginary line in the sand, and, somehow, over the course of the night my heart thawed out, and all of those wonderful feelings I once had filled in the reserve like a bright spring morning.
Ryder tastes sweet, juicy, and something about the way he’s manhandling my boobs has me panting for a reprisal of just about every activity we shared last night.
I pull back, my lids heavy with a renewed lust for him.
“I don’t think I ever want to leave.” I bite down over my lip to stave away the tears because in reality very few things have changed, and yet we’ve unwittingly opened another door.
“Lucky for you because I wasn’t planning on letting you go.” He warms my arms with his hands. “Stay.” He pleads with those midnight blue eyes. “Let me cook you breakfast. I make a mean omelet, and I have every intention on making those Mickey Mouse pancakes you love so damn much.”
I give a little laugh as I tighten my grip around his waist. “I can’t stay. I have rehearsal at noon.”
“Tell them you’re sick.”
“That’s bad luck.”
“Tell them you’re too busy getting your insides licked, and they can all go to hell—starting with Guy Richards.”
“Ryder!” I slap him across the chest as a laugh gets buried in my throat. “That’s crude.”
“Yeah, but you loved it.” He lays his head over mine and snuggles into me.
“I did.” I sigh into him. “I loved a lot of things you did—that you said last night.”
I run my fingers through his dark hair, and our eyes lock. Ryder Capwell has an entire ocean hostage in those deep navy eyes.
“Let me love you, Laney. Don’t walk out of my life again.” His Adam’s apple rises and falls. “I can’t handle it. I need you here just to breathe.”
