by Katy Kaylee
“Yes… I’m there… OH!” Her pussy clamped down, and I let go of the reins of my desire and leaped off the edge of oblivion, riding the storm with her.
When we were done, I rolled to my side, pulling her next to me and kissing her head. My heart was hammering in my chest, but I knew that was less from the exertion and more from the realization that I was falling hard for her.
I was in love with Katie Lawton. It was exhilarating and yet terrifying too. I wasn’t a man to put much faith in love or affection. My own parents taught me that unconditional love was a myth. But with Katie, my heart was filled with hope that maybe we could have something good. She cared about me, and, I think, respected me. But, I still wasn’t sure she trusted me, and without that, I knew we didn’t have a chance.
I held her in the darkness, wondering how I could break through her doubt. The problem was, I knew the source was Danny, and I didn’t want to go back to that. It was the one way I could know for sure if she trusted me, but it was also the one thing that could prove she didn’t, and with her warm and sated in my arms, I didn’t want to know.
13
Katie
There was a saying that history repeats itself. I lay in Ryder’s arms realizing that I was in big, big trouble because I was falling in love with him again. I’d had a crush on him since I first hit puberty, but four years ago, I’d fallen hard for him. So hard, that I hadn’t even entertained the idea of seeing anyone else since.
But that didn’t mean I wanted to go through it all again. Even though I realized there was way more substance to Ryder than I’d initially given him credit for, it wasn’t wise to love him. I thought he cared for me, and the way he touched me now, had me believing maybe his feelings ran deeper than I thought. The intensity of his eyes as he moved in me made me want to believe in fairy tales. But when the fog of bliss evaporated, I knew I had to be smart. This was only sex and friendship, nothing more. And because of that, I needed to create some space between us.
“Ryder?”
“Hmm?” His voice sounded tired, and I second guessed myself. Perhaps I should let him sleep. But finally, he lifted his head, his dazzling blue eyes looking at me.
“I don’t think it’s wise for you to stay the night.”
His brows pulled together. “Why?”
“No sex, remember.” I was hoping to keep this conversation light, but the scowl that darkened his face told me I was going to fail.
“That ship sailed a long time ago.”
“Yes, but now I’ve been seen in public with you. If you leave here in the morning, it will blow our cover that I’m just your publicist.”
He rolled away, and I missed his closeness.
“Why don’t you just tell me the truth, Katie?”
“What do you mean?”
He gave me a scathing glare and then got up from the bed. He grabbed his pants, slipping them on with angry tugs. “It’s not my image you’re worried about, it’s yours.”
“What?”
He put his shirt on but didn’t bother buttoning it as he looked for his socks and shoes. “You’re ashamed of me.”
“No.” How could he think that?
“What would people think if sweet Katie Lawton was fucking bad boy Ryder Malloy?” He sneered at me. “Oh, if they only knew the dirty things you’d done with me, to me.”
“Ryder, no…”
“It’s not like I didn’t know I wasn’t good enough for you, but then you said nice things, and you had me fooled. All that was just to get me to behave, right? And as long as no one knows I’m fucking you, it’s okay. But now… well… what will the world think that you let me between your legs?”
“You’re being vulgar.” I pulled the sheet up over my breasts.
“I’m a vulgar man, or haven’t you read the tabloids?” He glared at me. “Isn’t that all I am? A client who can boost your career?”
“No. Not at all—”
“I know all about how working with me can get you money and prestige. After all, the woman who can make Ryder Malloy look good is a genius.”
“This isn’t about work—”
“The hell it isn’t. You said it would be bad if it got out about us. What does that mean except you’re worried what people will think of you?”
“Not me, Ryder. You.”
“I’d think you’d know by now that I don’t give a flying fuck what people think.” He shook his head. “Except you, Katie. I cared what you thought, and like an idiot, I’d believed the things you said about me earlier tonight.”
“I’ve meant everything I’ve said.”
“If that was true, you wouldn’t be embarrassed for people to know about us.” He left the room. I felt like I’d been through the agitate cycle on a washing machine. My nerves were battered and frayed.
I leapt from bed. “Ryder.” I ran after him.
He turned to me with his hand on the door knob.
I should tell him the truth. That I was falling in love with him and it terrified me. But hadn’t I wanted him to go? This wasn’t a romance novel or fairy tale where we’d live happily ever after. We’d have sex, a few good times, and eventually, he’d move on.
When I didn’t say anything, he shook his head in disgust and walked out the door. I rushed to the window, wondering how he was going to get home. As he walked down the stairs, he had his phone out probably calling someone, like Ray, or perhaps ordering an Uber.
My heart longed to stop him, but this time my common sense won out. I shut the curtain and went back to my room. I stripped my bed knowing my sheets would smell like him. While I probably deserved to suffer after hurting him, I didn’t want to torture myself by spending the night inhaling his scent but not having him there.
After changing the bedding, I fell back into bed, willing sleep to come. But when it did, my dreams were filled with Ryder’s face etched with pain. I’d hurt him, and it tore me in two.
I sensed that Ryder had issues around his self-worth, and I let him leave thinking that I didn’t believe in him. All weekend, that thought ate at me until I thought I’d get an ulcer. I hated that I’d hurt him.
But it had to be done. There’d been something in the way he’d touched me that night that made me believe in fairy tales. He was gentle, sweet… loving. But it wasn’t love. I had to remind myself of that. I’d made the right decision.
I tried to push it all away as I sat in my living room Saturday morning scanning the news on my tablet about the sports award ceremony. Sure enough, there was a picture of Ryder with JC pinned to the wall. Fortunately, I wasn’t in the photo, although my name was in the short article. The good news was that the story explained that Ryder was intervening between an inebriated JC and me.
While the article showed Ryder in a better light, it didn’t miss the opportunity to remind readers of the earlier scuffles he’d been in, and speculate about his relationship with his publicist. That was a concern. If it got out that we were sleeping together, people might think the incident with JC was a setup. And I had to consider what my boss would think.
I was happy when Monday rolled around and I could fill some of the brain space that Ryder had taken up with work. I crafted a statement about the incident with Ryder and JC and sent it to Ray, Ryder’s manager, for release to help put distance between us. Then I pushed Ryder aside and worked on my other client’s PR plans. Not that I could actually push Ryder aside, but I tried.
Unfortunately, guilt made me sick to my stomach. I hated that he thought I didn’t think he was good enough. The truth was, there was more to Ryder than people knew, and I hated that the world didn’t see what a good person he was.
As much as I tried to avoid Ryder that day, I received calls and emails for interviews. I set up a sports radio show interview with him and emailed him the details. He must have forwarded the email to Ray, because later that day, I got an email from Ray saying the Ryder would be there.
Was that where we were now? He wouldn’t even converse with me by em
ail? I thought back to four years ago. When the shit hit the fan, he made no attempt to give his side of the story. He’d just left. My heart clenched at the idea that I wouldn’t talk to him again. The last time he left, I’d been so mad, that I hadn’t cared about his side of the story if I ever talked to him again. But this time, it was my fault. I hurt him. When he needed someone on his side, I abandoned him.
“Hey Lawton,” Alan poked his head in my door. “You okay? I heard JC Kristiansen got handsy with you.”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“I guess it was a good thing that Malloy doesn’t mind getting into altercations.”
I smiled, but inside, my heart was breaking.
“You’ve probably done this, but you should look into the past brawls. It’s possible you’re not the first damsel in distress he’s rescued. Could be helpful in improving his image.”
I nodded, feeling bad I hadn’t thought about it first. “I’m already on it.” Hadn’t Ryder told me there were assholes in the world and he was big enough to intervene? Had all his altercations been because he was trying to stop someone like JC from hurting someone?
“Glad you’re okay,” Alan said with sincerity. Friendly competition or not, he’d been a good mentor, and I appreciated that he looked out for me. I wondered how he’d respond to me sleeping with Ryder. Not positively, I decided.
“Thanks Alan.”
“But you still need to save up for those Super Bowl tickets.” He grinned.
“Don’t count me out, Alan. There’s way more to Ryder Malloy that anyone knows. By the time I’m done, he’ll be seen as a white knight.” Ryder would hate that. For a guy wanting to change his image, he sure avoided looking good in the limelight.
Alan snorted. “I love your confidence, Lawton.”
Alone in my office, I had to push my personal problems with Ryder aside, and instead focus on my job; Make the world see him as I did.
14
Ryder
I let Katie get close to my heart once before, and it had gone badly. I’d been an idiot to think it could be different this time. This was the woman who’d believed I was capable of sleeping with my best friend’s fiancé. If she thought that, then of course she wouldn’t risk her reputation by being seen with me. I was a good fuck and a client who could further her career. My gut roiled because I couldn’t think Katie would be so callous, but how else could I interpret her behavior?
I briefly considered finding a new publicist, but I didn’t want the hassle of telling Ray why. When she’d emailed about a radio show, I sent it to Ray, and explained I was too involved with my shoulder rehab to get ready for training camp to deal with it. Later, he emailed back the details. See, I could work with Katie without having to talk to her.
That Thursday, I headed to the radio station, ready to wow them. Katie sent me a list of possible questions along with tips on dealing with questions about the altercation with JC. None of the suggestions included saying that he was touching the woman I cared about. She added that if my other brawls were over related incidents, I could mention that. She was trying to turn me into some kind of hero. A hero she didn’t believe in. I supposed that’s what publicity was though. Creating a perception that had nothing to do with reality. Otherwise known as lying.
The show went well. It helped that the Orca’s were a top contender for the winning its league and making it to the Super Bowl this year. People could overlook my shortcomings if I brought home the big trophy.
The two interviewers asked about the incident with JC. I wanted to be truthful and tell the world that JC was a first-class asshole who’d touched my woman, but I stuck to the script, saying he’d been drinking and I’d wanted to make sure the woman was safe.
“She’s your publicist, right?” Elvin Jones, the main interviewer asked. He was a middle-aged man with a deep voice made for radio, and an incredible knowledge of sports trivia.
“Yes.” Based on what Katie had said, I figured it was best not to elaborate any more.
“So, Ryder… nothing going on there? It’s been a long time since you’ve been paired with a woman.” The other interviewer, a younger scrawny looking guy, asked.
I smiled at the interviewers remembering Ray’s comment that smiling could cover up negative feelings. Why did people care who I fucked? “I’ve been focused on my recovery. My injury knocked some sense into this Missouri boy, and so I’ve been towing the line. Living clean, keeping myself out of trouble… unless of course, someone else is in trouble.”
“So, your publicist, there’s nothing there. You look pretty heated in these videos. Like maybe you were jealous,” the kid interviewer said.
I worked that smile as best I could. “There’s nothing there.”
Thankfully, they went on, asking about my training and if I felt fully recovered, and how I felt about giving Speedy his award.
When the interview finished, I headed back to San Diego to visit my uncle. I was feeling fractured and wanted the normalcy that being with him and this community brought.
As usual, he was out by the pool, but alone reading a book.
“Friends abandon you?” I asked him. I could totally relate to that.
“Ryder!” My uncle stood up and gave me a hug and then motioned to the chair at his table.
“Nora is off in her aerobics class, and Clyde and Joe are playing bridge. They’re too cutthroat for me.” George’s eyes narrowed. “Things weighing on you, Ryder? Is it that incident with that prick, JC Kristiansen?”
“You see it too? That he’s an asshole.” It had seemed to me everyone liked JC, the young up-and-coming quarterback. Had I been such a douche when I’d started out?
“Everyone sees it, son. But pretty boys with talent can get away with a lot.”
That made me pause. “Is that what people see in me?”
George’s eyes narrowed. “No. You might have some bad boy in you but in a good way. The way the ladies like.”
“Not all of them,” I muttered.
“What?”
I waved my hand. “Nothing.” I looked around. “It’s quiet this morning.”
My uncle didn’t buy it. “You having woman troubles?”
I shrugged. “Not anymore.”
“What happened?”
I wasn’t the type to share my feelings. The only person I’d ever come close to sharing my inner demons with was Katie. After what had happened, it reminded me why telling people my side of things or how I felt was a waste of time. No one really cared, and it changed nothing.
“She worried about your playboy ways? Fighting? That you won’t win the Super Bowl this year.”
I laughed, as I shook my head. “Take that back. I’m going all the way to the Bowl this year.” Then I sighed and answered his question. “She knows me, that’s the problem.”
George frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”
“I’ve got looks and a good throwing arm, but deep down, I’m a boy from Missouri whose mother didn’t want him and whose father used him as a punching bag.”
Anger reddened my uncle’s face. “You sound like you’re having a pity party there, son. Only pussies do that.”
I swallowed, not enjoying feeling like a pussy. But the truth was what it was.
He pursed his lips. “You’re full of bullshit, Ryder if you think your parents have tainted your character. Your father was an asshole. Your mother a coward. They took the easy way out. But you—” He leaned forward, pointing his finger at me. “You rose out of all of that. You worked hard. You’re a good person. And look at you!” He sat back and his eyes shone with pride. “You’re amazing. And if some woman doesn’t see that in you, she’s not worthy.”
“I thought she saw me, but…” I let it drop because I couldn’t figure out what to say. Katie often made noises like she saw the real me, but then she’d back off, letting me know that she didn’t really see me, she just was creating a persona of me to share with the world.
“Does she know how you feel?�
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“She doesn’t want her name associated with mine. I doubt telling her my feelings will change that.”
George frowned. “I know you’ve been working on it, but you do have a reputation with the ladies. It’s possible she’s afraid of that. Or thinks she’s just the next in a long line of women.”
I shook my head. “She can’t think that.”
“Why not? If you haven’t told her differently, how would she know?”
I paused, thinking over my uncle’s statement. Was it possible Katie thought she was just another woman to me? I’d made love to her other night. Surely, she had to have felt that? Except, she’d kicked me out and didn’t deny that she didn’t want to be associated with me in that way. That wasn’t fear of being a notch on my bedpost, that was fear of being seen by the world as a notch on my bedpost.
“Listen, I wanted Nora from the first minute she moved in here, but like you, I played it coy and cool, and she ended up with Eddie Caskle, the prick.” George pursed his lips and shook his head in disdain. “Once she had caught him with Mrs. Clement—”
“Mrs. Clement? Pickleball champ Mrs. Clement?”
“That’s her. When he was caught playing pickle with her, Nora dumped his ass. I didn’t waste any time after that telling her what I thought about her. At my age, in particular, you can’t waste time. But neither can you at your age, Ryder. Life is short. If you love this—”
“I don’t know about love.”
“If you care about her and want a relationship, you have to tell her.”
I was mulling over his words when a football landed by my chair. “Come play, Ryder!” Michael called from the grassy area.
I played with the kids for a half-hour, enjoying throwing the ball again and watching children play just for the joy of the game. I’d have to remember that when the season started.
Afterwards, I had a drink with my uncle and Nora, watching him with her and realizing how happy he looked. Could I have that?