Aelin suckedin a breath as Ryan's lips pressed against hers. His mouth was warm, slick from the rain. She pressed against his warmth, working to catch her breath, her head swimming. Her lips parted, her tongue flicking against his as his fingers spread into her hair.
She sighed against his mouth, and his whole body tightened against her. Her mind flaunted every image she didn't realize she'd carefully stored away, pulling them out like Polaroids.The one where Ryan reads a book half naked. The one where Ryan gives a high-five to a twelve-year-old on the ice. The one where Ryan pulls his shirt off on the boat in front of your whole family and you grit your teeth and pretend your thighs didn't suddenly transform into a flint and steel.
Her tongue reached for his then, her fingers threading through his hair. How many times had she wanted to touch his hair? Ryan pressed her back against the cabin wall, his hand dropping back to her waist, pulling her flush against his hips so fast, she gasped.
Aelin arched into him, and his fingers dragged over her hip bone, fumbling with the hem of her shirt. And then, as soon as his fingers hit skin, he suddenly jerked back.
Aelin dropped her arms, panting.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have?—"
Aelin was already moving. She burst through the back door into her room, heart thudding in her chest. Her breath came in short gasps as she scanned the room, her mind a jumbled mess. What the hell was she thinking?
Clark had cheated on her twice, and she'd sworn she would never have anything to do with that. Yes, Ryan's situation was different, but he still wore his damn wedding ring.
Aelin forced her feet to move before Ryan walked in behind her. She strode to the washroom, turned on the light, and closed the door behind her. She could barely look at herself in the mirror because if Ryan hadn't stopped . . .
She leaned over the counter, dropping her head in her hands. Maybe she would have? But the way heat still pulsed in every cell of her body, she doubted it.
Her hands shook as she peeled off her soaked clothes, fumbling with the fabric. She piled the heavy cotton on the counter, not even bothering to wring it out, then turned on the shower.
She trembled as she waited for the water to heat up. It was a cowardly move to disappear inside but what else was she supposed to do? How could she look him in the eye after this?
As steam rose around the glass door, Aelin stepped into the shower.No.That was the same thinking that had gotten her buried with Clark. She wasn't the one at fault in the situation. Ryan had kissed her first, and yes, she had kissed him back, but that didn't mean that she should be embarrassed. Both of them had been pushing the limit since they arrived.
What limits? What were they even fighting against? Aelin was getting divorced and Ryan . . . What was Ryan? He wasn't in a real marriage, but he definitely still felt a strong sense of loyalty and commitment. If she was being honest, even though it broke her heart, it also gave her hope.What woman didn't want someone to love her like that?
Her eyes stung as she scrubbed her body and washed her hair. There were no easy answers here.
She ticked down the list of things she knew about Ryan. He loved his daughter. He showed up when he said he was going to or had a damn good excuse for why he didn’t. He listened to her. He loved his wife. He knew how to fix things, and he smelled good, and his hair was long and soft?—
Aelin leaned against the shower tile, grounding herself.
She didn’t know for sure, but Ryan was quite possibly the best guy she’d met in twelve years.And she was supposed to ignore him?
Being at the lake was messing with her. Ryan was right. It did feel like another world.What happens at Flathead stays at Flathead.She snorted and rinsed her hair. She could have had so much more fun had she adopted that mantra at sixteen.
It felt so damn good to be touched. To be held. She had endured twelve years with a man who only saw her as a reflection of himself. Didn't she deserve something better?
Aelin pressed her head against the shower tile, the water streaming down her face, cascading over her chilled skin.
She needed to get out of the washroom. It wasn't fair for her to hog the space, even if it was the only sanctuary she had at the moment. Aelin turned off the water and stepped out onto the bath mat. She grabbed her towel and started drying off when a jolt passed through her.The girls.They were still upstairs watching their movie.
She cursed under her breath and scrubbed the towel over her skin. As she was about to hang it back up, she glanced at the counter.Shit.She hadn't brought in any clean clothes.
Aelin clenched her jaw and ran a comb through her hair, then hastily wrapped the towel around herself. What were the chances that Ryan was still in the bedroom? Probably slim. He had most likely realized the same thing she did and gone upstairs to check on the girls.
Aelin put her hand on the door knob and hesitated. She drewa breath and twisted, pulling the door toward her. As soon as the room came into view she froze. Ryan was sitting on the bed in dry joggers, his chest bare, his hair still wet.
His head snapped up, his eyes locking on to hers. “Hey,” he rasped.
“Hey.” Aelin stepped out into the room, her toes curling against the carpet. She took a step toward the dresser and paused. What was she going to do? Get dressed, put the kids to bed, ignore him the whole night, and somehow avoid talking about this for an entire week? Maybe in her twenties she would’ve tried that, but in her thirties, she was over the games and the drama. She drew a breath. “I’m sorry I bolted.”
Ryan exhaled. “I’m sorry I . . . ” He trailed off. “No. I’m not sorry.” He lifted his head to look at her. “I know I should be sorry, but I’m not.”
Aelin twisted the edge of the towel. “I want to talk about this, but the girls are still?—”
“I put them to bed. While you were in the shower.”
