Tell Me You Love Me

by Julie Prestsater

  “I really don’t care if he ever sees me this way. I didn’t lose the weight for him.” And that’s exactly what he’d think. Not that I lost it for him, but that I was so torn over our breakup, I lost my appetite, drowned myself in my sorrows, and lost it in an unhealthy way. This couldn’t be further from the truth.

  “Then who did you lose it for?” Rachel asks.

  Rose raises her hand. “I know!” We all turn in her direction, caught off guard by her unexpected shout. “She lost it for Ryan. She’s secretly hoping he comes back for her.”

  My face heats at the mention of his name. Yes, I’m secretly hoping he comes back. Although, with my skin blushing all shades of color right now, I doubt that’s a secret. “Wrong.” I make the sound of a buzzer. “I didn’t bust my ass at the gym and detox myself from fried foods and ice cream for a guy.” I take a deep breath and let out a sigh. If Ryan is true to his word, I didn’t need to do it for him anyway. He said I was perfect...just the way I am. “I did it for myself.”

  Molly nods her approval and grabs the closest Solo cup. She holds it up in the air. Rachel follows her lead and does the same. Rose holds up her water bottle, only half way. I don’t think she can hold it any higher without falling over. Finally, I do the same.

  “To doing it for yourself.” Molly grins with a flutter of her brows. Leave it to her to turn my words into something dirty.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Ryan

  My alarm is set for eight o’clock, yet my eyes open wide at seven. Instead of getting out of bed, I lie here for another hour hoping my mind will unwind long enough for me to fall back asleep. If only I could be so lucky.

  I got back into town late last night. One would think that the long drive from Utah would be enough to tire my body and put me to sleep for a while, but I’m so used to waking up early that my internal clock has a mind of its own. One that is still an hour ahead.

  The California sun shines through my window, my cue that I may as well get off my ass, slip on my running shoes, and exert some energy. With my feet pounding the pavement, maybe the constant churning of my thoughts will give it a rest.

  I doubt it though.

  The closer I got to this damn town, the more my concentration focused on her. Lizzy. The woman my mother refers to as my library girl. Mine.

  I don’t know why I still think of her as mine. She never was. Never will be. She’s married. To an asshole.

  To this day, I’m still angry I didn’t get an apology out of that dick. I should have pummeled him until he told Lizzy how sorry he was and until he meant it. Fucking bastard. I have never been known to have a short fuse, and it was my reaction to Lizzy’s shithead husband that made me realize just how much I care about her. I’m not aggressive by nature, but somehow Lizzy had become mine in my mind. Like my mom and sister, I’d taken her under my wing, and into my heart. That’s probably why I can’t get her out of there even now. I can still picture the sadness and defeat in her eyes after he hurt her with those words. The way he spoke to Lizzy made my heart ache for her. She’s beautiful and sweet, and she doesn’t even know it. And now, I know why.

  I could tell by the look in her eyes that he, her fuckwad of a husband, has made her believe that she is... God, I can’t even imagine the shit he has filled her head with. I just hope she’s thought about what I said. I know they’re just words, but she had to know I meant them.

  Anger fuels my need to get out of the house. Something tells me I should head to the gym and stay away from The Hill. What if the ladies are having one of their infamous book club meetings? No. The guys aren’t on duty today, so they won’t be out there. They might not admit it, to us anyway, but we all know they plan their meetings around our training. And we all appreciate the effort. It’s amazing what a little female appreciation and friendship can do for a man’s ego.

  What if I run into Lizzy? Part of me wants to run into her. Seeing her is inevitable. I start back at work next week and it’s just a matter of time before I see her on one of our training days.

  She did ask to see me when I got back. That was months ago, though. She might not feel the same anymore. I wonder if she’s even thought of me since. How could she?

  Damn, I must have read everything so wrong.

  No. I know I didn’t. I’ve been going back and forth on this since I left, like a little girl picking the petals off a flower. She loves me, she loves me not. What the fuck is wrong with me?

  All I know is that when she looked at me, I saw the same emotions I felt reflected back at me in her eyes. She felt something. I know it. But she couldn’t act on it. And neither could I.

  I still can’t.

  Damn it. What could she possibly see in him? Obviously, he doesn’t treat her the way a real man should. Fuck that asshole.

  This whole thing...between us...whatever it is...it still sets me off. One minute I think I’m fine, that I’m over Lizzy. The next minute, I just want to see her. To hold her. To love her. See...I’m not even making sense now. I sound like a fucking tool. Like an annoying date who can’t make up her mind between Mexican or Italian and changes her mind from one second to the next until you just say, “Fuck it, we’re getting a burger.”

  Fortunately, while I was gone, I did come away with a little clarity. On some things, anyway. I think I understand what was happening between Lizzy and me. She was attracted to me, and I think she enjoyed my company. She is not the sort of woman who plays games with a man’s emotions. I respect that and although she flirted with me, and to some extent, encouraged me to believe she was available, her intention wasn’t to lead me on.

  She was simply being Lizzy. Warm, affectionate, funny, and lovely. And her sex appeal was a byproduct of that. I’m thinking that dickhead had completely suppressed that side of her and maybe she doubted she even had sex appeal anymore. So, no, although I felt hurt by her lie of omission, I am still so damn drawn to her.

  But I will keep my distance.

  I’ll get my emotions under control. She can’t be mine. Period. I get that. When I see Lizzy, I’ll make little eye contact. I’ll talk to her like I would Molly or Rachel or Rose.

  Friends. Just friends. I can do that. Not a problem.

  * * *

  After parking at the house, I set off on my run without going inside. If I go in now, it will be noon and hot as fuck before I get out of there. I’ll stop in on the way back and check in with the guys. Maybe Justin will want to have a beer or something.

  I run for about half a mile before I stop, stepping off the trail to stretch. I catch my right foot at the back of my thigh to stretch out my quad, before letting go and doing the same with the other side.

  It feels good to be back and starting my regular routine. As I take off into a sprint, my mind wanders, thinking about the fire in Utah that took almost a full month to contain. The following months I volunteered to stay on and help clear brush in some high-danger areas. Digging trenches and chopping down trees isn’t the easiest and most fun task, but it’s necessary. Not to mention I just wasn’t ready to come home. My mind wasn’t right yet.

  When I pass The Lookout, I’m almost sad when I see that the women of Valley Creek Drive are not there to greet me. I almost stop just to take a breather, but I know better. My mind will do that wonderful thing where it wraps its roots around a certain image of a redheaded woman with full curves and an ass that won’t quit.

  Fuck me.

  I didn’t even stop and my thoughts still go there. It doesn’t help that a redhead jogs out from one of the side streets and starts plowing up the hill. She reminds me of Lizzy. Well, except this woman doesn’t have the ass that my girl does. This chick has nice curves, don’t get me wrong. Really nice. She’s just not the woman who made my dick twitch just thinking about sinking my fingers into her hips, before palming her ass cheeks to pull her close to me.

  She’s cute though. She wears a ball cap, a long ponytail of red hair flowing from the back. It bounces back and forth as she keeps a g
ood pace up the hill. Damn, she’s in shape. Not many people can run at this speed up this slope. Half the time I see people zigzagging up the street so they can make it to the top without calling 911.

  As I close the space between us, my gut tightens.

  It’s her.

  There is no mistaking that voice of hers. That god-awful singing that makes me smile. I listen carefully as she belts out a familiar chorus. No doubt it’s Kelly Clarkson. Lizzy is wailing the “Stronger” lyrics.

  Yeah, she’s strong all right. She’s booking it up this mountain like there isn’t an incline at all. Her body has slimmed and her legs are toned up along with that amazing ass of hers. There is no doubt she’s lost some more weight, which I’m sure she’s proud of. I just hope she didn’t do it for him. She didn’t need to. Why the hell did she not know she was beautiful exactly the way she was and didn’t need to change for anyone? Least of all a dick who didn’t treat her right. I wish I would have had the chance to tell her that. Instead, I just left.

  Does that make me the same as her husband? A man who doesn’t do hard? Doesn’t bother?

  Damn it.

  There is less than a quarter of a mile before we reach the top. Not much time to figure out what to say or what to do. Maybe I should turn around now. Turn back and head to the house, with my tail between my legs like a coward. Like I did all those months ago.

  It’s time to stop running. I’m nothing like her husband.

  When we get to the top...I’m going to talk to her. Maybe even apologize for disappearing. I know I don’t have to. I don’t owe her anything, not an explanation. I’m the one who deserves an answer. She was flirting with me and she was married. Correct that. She is married.

  Shit. It feels like a fucking semi-truck is sitting on my chest.

  Lizzy suddenly slows her pace and looks over her shoulder. I duck my head down, staring at my feet, hoping she doesn’t see me just yet. I haven’t had enough time to plan out my speech in my head. She doesn’t notice me.

  Her cheeks are bright pink. The color looks good on her.

  The sway of her ponytail and her hips slows as do her steps. She’s walking now, a power walk and she’s still singing. It’s a slow song, one sung by a male. Her tone is low and smooth. She can definitely sing the lower registers a hell of a lot better than the high ones. She’s no diva, that’s for sure. I chuckle aloud, catching myself so she can’t hear me.

  She turns to look over her shoulder again. This time, I bend down to tie my shoes. I love playing this game with her.

  Lizzy continues, slowing down with the beat of her music. She’s singing Macklemore. I finally catch on when I hear her deep voice saying she’s going to pop some tags. She kills me. Why the hell does she have to be so goddamned cute?

  I laugh inside, not wanting to startle her. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work. She spins around quickly, leaving me no room to hide. I bring my wrist up to my eyes, pretending to check the time with my head titled down as far as I can so she doesn’t see my face.

  “What the hell are you doing, Ryan?”

  Oh. Shit. She caught me.

  “You scared the hell out of me,” she yells, taking a step closer to me.

  Damn, she’s beautiful. The bill of her hat shades her green eyes, making them appear darker and even sexier than usual. She digs her clinched fists into her hips, something I’ve seen her do many times before, and it never gets old. She can try to be angry, but mean isn’t something she could ever be.

  “Well?” She throws her hands up in frustration and all I can do is smile. All my plans to keep my head down, my eyes averted, and my feelings under wraps flew out the window as soon as I looked into her eyes.

  Damn, I haven’t been home for long and she has already burrowed herself deeper into my heart. And she doesn’t even know it. With every look, every conversation...with every lyric she has sang, my feelings have only grown. She makes me laugh. She makes me smile. She turns me on like no other woman has without even touching me. And yet here she is...standing before me. Taken. Married. Completely hitched. And all I can do is smile.

  Fuck.

  I got it bad.

  “Hi, Lizzy.” I find the strength to mutter a few words. What I really want to do is take her into my arms and hold her and tell her how beautiful she is. How she was so damn beautiful that she didn’t need to lose any weight. But instead, I just mumble a quick hello.

  She rolls her eyes at me, in that cute way only she can.

  “I thought a serial killer was following me and all you can say is hi?” She shakes her head, a slight grin playing on her lips. I’d love to see a full smile, but she’s holding back. Probably because she is married and now she knows I know that little detail.

  Is this how it’s going to be now? Awkward for both of us? Her holding back? That’s not who she is or should be.

  This, period...is not us at all.

  Oh, fuck it.

  And it won’t be if I have anything to say about it.

  Taking hold of one of her hands, I pull her close to me, until her chest is against mine and I hold her. I wrap my arms around her, feeling our bodies melt into one another as her hands slide up my back holding me, too. Leaning into her, I nuzzle my face into her neck and whisper into her ear, “God, I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too,” she murmurs softly. “So much.”

  She cuddles into me and holds on tighter. Time stands still while I soak in the moment of our first real embrace. The warmth of the sun on our bodies only adds to the heat simmering between us. Her hands run lazily up and down my back. My hands roam her curves until my right palm settles on the nape of her neck.

  “I know I shouldn’t be holding you like this, but I can’t help myself.”

  Lizzy turns her head slightly, her lips brushing against my neck causing every nerve in my body to spark. “Why not, Ryan? Why shouldn’t you hold me?”

  Her question surprises me. I pull away from her, enough so I can see her face without letting go. I’m not ready to let her go. Not again.

  She looks up at me, her gaze searching mine for answers. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but it hurts to get them out. I actually get choked up at the thought. The idea that this woman...this funny, sweet thing belongs to someone else could just kill me right here as we speak. But there is no denying the truth. It’s not like I can make her any less married than she was months ago, so I have no choice but to just come out and say it.

  A warm breeze crosses our path causing a strand of hair to come loose from her cap and flutter across her face. Before I can think to stop myself, I raise my hand allowing my fingertips to catch the thick strands and tuck them behind her ear. My hand lingers, brushing the side of her face. She tilts her head, leaning her cheek into my palm.

  If she didn’t have me wrapped around her little finger before, she surely does now.

  Come on, Ry. Get a grip. It’s now or never.

  “Because you’re married, Lizzy.”

  Instantly, she straightens up and backs away from me. The emptiness I feel with the space between us is monstrous. It hurt to be miles away these last six months, but now that I’m back and I’ve had her in my arms again, this wide berth she’s giving me is no good.

  And I have to a find away to change it.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Lizzy

  It takes a second for the shock to wear off. Because you’re married, Lizzy. He did say that, right? I didn’t imagine it. I know he’s been in another state for half of a year, but it’s not like he’s been out of reach. I would have thought one of the guys would have told him. I didn’t want to tell him over the phone, but I didn’t think they would keep their mouths shut.

  But then again, they never told him I was married, either.

  The connection Ryan and I have shared was lost on the other firefighters. They didn’t see it at all. Like most men, romance has to slap them upside the head for them to take notice.

  A smile starts to spread across my
lips. I don’t want to laugh, but I can’t help it. Here he is, holding me in his strong arms like I’ve always dreamed of and then he goes and brings up my bastard-ass ex-husband. I haven’t seen or talked to the asshole in I don’t know how long and he continues to ruin my life. Okay, that was a bit melodramatic, but you get what I mean.

  “What’s so funny?” he asks. It’s his turn to throw his hands up in confusion.

  I shake my head, laughter still bubbling up from my belly. “Come here, you big dummy, and hug me again. I’m not done with you yet.”

  I close the distance between us and loop my arms around his big, buff body. I look up at him towering over me with those playful eyes smiling down on me. I can feel his muscles flex against the palms of my hands as he envelops me in his warmth again. There aren’t enough words to describe how much I missed him.

  “This isn’t right, Lizzy,” he says, his tone tense in my ear. His grasp on me isn’t as tight as it was before. He’s holding back now, and he doesn’t need to.

  “Ryan?”

  “Yes,” he whispers back.

  I squeeze him tighter. “I’m not married.”

  His body goes rigid, frozen. Still as can be. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t say anything. A loud truck drives by, its engine filling the air with roars and rumbles, yet Ryan doesn’t appear to be affected. The only indication I have that he is alive is the steady inhale and exhale of his breath.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “You’re not,” he pauses, “...married?”

  Looking up at him, I shake my head from side to side. “Absolutely not. The divorce was final yesterday. We even had a party to celebrate.”

  Without warning, Ryan’s hands grasp my biceps and he stares intently into my eyes. The longing is evident. This is as good of news to him as it is to me. I know what he’s thinking. There are no barriers, no walls between us anymore. I’m free. There is no doubt in my mind or his that we want each other.