I didn’t know how much I needed him to say that until his words weave through and around me in a uniquely intricate pattern. I give his hand a tug and he wraps his arm around my waist as we finally continue walking home. And as I pull him the slightest bit closer, I try not to pay too much attention to the fact that I’m starting to think of the apartment asourhome, and not just mine.
It is now 7:15 p.m. and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t losing it a bit. After a relaxing afternoon of dog walks and writing, Ryan left a half hour ago, saying he needed to get supplies to cook us dinner.
It’s dark out now and for some reason, our situation seems totally different out of the sheltered light of day. Days are for friends, nights are for friends who get freaky.
I have no idea how to act towards him when he gets home. Will things be different? Will he act differently?
I doubt he’s overthinking things. He probably does this all the time. Not sleep with college girlfriends whom he once deflowered, obviously, but he’s always had a better poker face than me. I’ll deal with the situation either way. If it was a mistake, so be it. If it happens again, yeehaw.
I take a deep breath and almost choke on it when I hear my apartment door unlock moments later. Before I know it, Ryan is in view and my eyes go large at the sight of him. He shuts the door with the back of his foot and I can barely see his face over the tower of “supplies” he’s carrying.
In his right hand is a beautiful bouquet of what seem to be wildflowers that are bunched together with a burlap sash. His left hand is holding three plastic bags filled with groceries. Then I notice what he’s wearing. I bust out laughing, taking in the novelty apron tied over his shorts and T-shirt, depicting the muscular body of a Roman gladiator, bare-chested and wearing only a canvas loincloth and a sword. Ryan remains where he is, standing across the room with a shy smile.
“Big plans tonight?” I ask.
“What would give you that idea?”
“You just have a lot going on over there.”
“Truth be told, I was planning on romancing a girl I used to know.”
My insides flip in the best way possible. “That sounds like fun.”
“It might be. She kicked me to the curb the last time we dated, though, so we’ll see what happens this time around.”
“Were you maybe a bit of an ass the last time you dated?”
“You know, I can’t really recall but I think I might have been.”
“And how about now?” I ask.
“I’m probably still an ass but hopefully I’m a little more tolerable.”
Wanting to show him just how tolerable I do find him, I move to stand directly in his path, less than a foot away. I don’t put up the slightest fight against my urge to place my hands on his chest, going up on my tiptoes and kissing him. He responds right away, slowly at first but then dropping everything to the floor. His hands find their way to the small of my back, pulling me close but still not close enough. Not nearly close enough. That’s all the encouragement I need. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him again and again.
We eventually break apart, out of breath and smirking as we look down at the mess we’ve made. Flowers and food are everywhere. I don’t have time to fully assess the damage before Ryan tugs me forward, drawing my eyes up to his.
“Are you nervous?” he asks.
I pause and think about it. “I don’t think so,” I answer. “Are you?”
“Honestly, I am. This still doesn’t feel real.”
I nod, knowing exactly what he means, barely believing I can look at him and touch him and talk to him like I am right now. Like this is how it’s always been. Like we never stopped.
“When we broke up,” he says, “I used you as motivation to succeed. I thought if we ever saw each other again, I would show you how great I was and you would regret not wanting to be with me. I did everything I could to push you out of my life but really I was keeping you in the center of it—and I was this bitter ex-boyfriend planet just orbiting around you all the time.”
I have to smile before getting serious again. “When I saw you at Cristina’s party, I thought I hated you. It was ten years later, but everything felt so raw because deep down, I still thought about you all the time. Anytime I wrote about love or want or pain in one of my books, I drew on those feelings from what we had. Bits of you and me are layered inside each one of my stories.”
Ryan takes a moment. “So what you’re saying is, you’re not just using me for my body.”
“Oh, no, I absolutely am. I just happen to like you as a person, too.”
We both smile as Ryan leans down to kiss me with a gentleness that makes my head spin.
His hands soon drift around my waist to slip under the bottom of my shirt, lightly rubbing along the skin of my lower back. I do the same, sneaking my hands under his shirt and sliding them up along his spine. I feel the goose bumps there when I repeat the path down again.
“Maybe we should go into the bedroom,” I say, already heading in that direction.
