His kiss made me decide that any position with him was my favourite.
“What is it? We might practice it after if you tell me.”
I brushed his stubbled cheek with the palm of my hand. “On my hands and knees. I like the roughness.” And it meant it would be more anonymous, because I had a feeling that looking in his eyes while he fucked me was going to be my undoing.
“Okay. I’ll remember that.” He moved back onto the mattress and rearranged us so I was lying across his chest. “Your turn.”
I comfied down on him. “Where do you see yourself in twenty years?”
He was quiet. For longer than I expected.
“You must’ve imagined a future of some sort. I have.” The silence had become too much.
“Tell me about yours first.”
“Okay. I’ve won an Oscar. I can take my pick of parts, and I’m choosing roles that I believe in, rather than ones I know will fulfil my career. I have a home in the English countryside and probably a New York apartment too. I love New York. I hope I’m married, or I have a partner who I’ve been with a while, and I’d like to have become a mother.” It was the first time I’d said that last bit out loud. “Your turn.”
“I’ll have finished playing football. I won’t be looking to go into coaching or management after, in fact, I’ll step away from it all together when I begin to lose my fitness. I know I’ll be told that I can lose speed because I have the skills, but I don’t want to push myself so I end up with injuries that make it difficult when I’m older.” He was running his fingers up and down my arm, a movement that could’ve lulled me to sleep.
“Is that why you’re so health conscious now?”
“I guess so. I’m looking at buying a property in Cheshire which has land. I’d like to keep animals and do something environmental. I won’t be able to sit there and do nothing.” His hand paused. “I can show you it, if you want.”
We both sat up. Me moving first which I guess suggested I did want.
He reached for his phone and opened the house selling app, going into saved properties and then passing me his phone.
What I saw was beautiful. A large stone farmhouse, five bedrooms and a separate annex. There was a half dozen or so outhouses, plus twenty-five acres of land. The main building and the annex had what was called ‘potential’, the décor probably trendy about thirty years ago, but it was obvious what the place could become.
“It will be amazing.” I handed him back his phone, a message from Lotte popping up.
Ryan ignored it and put his phone down. “I’m going to put an offer in next week. I’ve had an architect draw up some plans to extend and modernise the layout. I guess I see myself living there.”
“By yourself?”
He shrugged. “I don’t have a crystal ball. I’m good with my own company, so I think it would depend on who I met and what they wanted.”
That sounded like him. The laid-back vibe he had was underpinned by a lot of thought. Something told me that he hadn’t not thought about the future, unlike me, he’d just not over-thought it.
“Sounds very adult.”
“No. My mum’s an over-planner, which I saw the value of, but it can be overwhelming seeing how stressed she gets when things don’t go the way she planned. No one can say that they’re going to meet someone at twenty-eight, marry them at thirty-one and have their first child twelve months later. Things happen when they’re meant to.”
I felt him relax more. He’d played a pretty gruelling game today, one that had ended up with ten minutes of injury time. I knew he’d picked up a knock, but he’d played on. The hotel bed was comfy, actually, but I could imagine he’d rather spend the night in his own.
“Do you think we happened when we were meant to? Houston airport and the tropical storm? Then seeing each other again in Manchester?” I had to ask because I’d thought about it more than once.
“I think so.” He was almost asleep.
I inched myself up and flicked off the light, snuggling back into him. “Are you in a rush in the morning?”
“No.” His fingers ran over my hip gently. “Are you?”
“No.” If I’d had any plans, they’d have been changed now.
Sunday morning was filled with a quietness that was broken by the sounds of trains coming into the station. I woke before Ryan, something that didn’t surprise me given I hadn’t played a hundred minutes of football yesterday. I lay there, accepting how our legs were still entwined and he was partly spooning me, his arm heavy over my waist and his hand pushed under my vest to just under my boob.
My one wish would be that we were either at my place or his, and not in a hotel, where we’d have to sneak about afterwards. An easy Sunday breakfast now would be ideal, and it was while I was dreaming about cooking hash browns and scrambling eggs together I knew it had passed the hook-up stage.
