by E. K. Blair
It's been two weeks since I told him my secret, and he hasn't once looked at me differently. When he said to me that it didn't change anything, I didn't believe him at first, but now, all I can do is trust him and what he says.
Ryan runs his soft kisses up my neck and then pulls away. "Come on," he says as he holds out his hand for me. "I want you in my bed, under my sheets."
I smile up at him before he grabs me and takes me upstairs.
Donna insisted we go to Common Grounds for breakfast while Ryan goes to the gym. She said she wanted to see where I worked, so when Ryan left, we got ourselves ready and I drove us to the coffee shop.
The place isn't too busy when we arrive. We walk up to the counter and I introduce Donna to Roxy.
"So, you're Ryan's mom?" she says with a smirk, and I know she wants to mention his hot-ass, as she does every time his name comes up, but thankfully, she keeps her couth.
"Yes, it's so good to meet you."
Donna doesn't look fazed at all by Roxy's unique style and her cobalt-blue hair.
"Likewise. So what are you girls up to today?"
"We're just here for breakfast," I tell her.
Donna and I give Roxy our order and when she hands us our drinks and muffins, we make ourselves comfortable on one of the cozy small loveseats.
"Thank you for driving up here. It really means a lot me," I tell her as I sip my hot tea.
"Well, I'm glad Ryan called me to tell me it was your birthday."
"Sorry, if it was last minute notice, but he didn't even know until last week."
She gives me a warm smile and says, "Well, I'm happy to be here. It's so good to see the two of you. I've never seen him so happy. All he seems to talk about when I call him is you. So, I take it you guys are getting more serious?"
It's not awkward for me to talk to her about Ryan. We talk about our relationship almost every week. Even though I haven't known her very long, she gives me the maternal support I've never had. She's been easy for me to let in.
"Yeah, I mean we love each other. I try not to think about it too much, but I sometimes worry about what will happen after I graduate."
"Well, have you thought about where you want to go?"
"I don't have a whole lot of choice in the matter. I have to go where the job is, and I have no clue what company will offer me a spot. That's what's so unnerving."
Swallowing a bite of her muffin, she asks, "What does Ryan say?"
"We haven't talked about it. I've never mentioned it."
"You have to follow your dreams. I don't see Ryan standing in the way of that."
"I really do love him."
"I know you do," she says as she reaches for my hand.
"I don't know if I could ever leave him."
"Don't let your dreams fade away. Whatever happens, I know you two will find your way through it."
I smile at her words and hope that she's right. I know Seattle has a few outstanding ballet companies. I've expressed interest in a couple; I just hope that one of them will offer me a spot, but at the same time, I've always dreamed of New York. Ever since I was a little girl, I've been fantasizing about dancing in the city.
"Well, dear, Ryan told me to not get you anything, but..." She reaches in her purse and pulls out an old weathered box. "I didn't wrap it, so technically, it's not an official present."
When she places the box in my hands, I look at her in disbelief. "Donna, I can't."
"I've had it for years, dear. It's just an old, dirty book, but I saw you reading it at Christmas, so I thought you wouldn't mind having a copy."
I open the box, and I know it's the original publisher's box. Pulling out my favorite book from my childhood, I open it up to see the publishing date is 1935.
Shaking my head, I say, "But this is a collector's edition. How...?"
"When I was a little girl, I loved this book. My grandmother bought this for me when she found it in a rundown antique shop. I bought a current published version for the kids that I keep out, and when I saw you reading it, I figured you would appreciate having this version."
When I start to shake my head again, she places her hand on top of one of the original prints of Frances Hodgson Burnett's book, 'A Little Princess,' and says, "Like I said, it's an old book that has been sitting at the top of my closet for years, doing nothing but collecting dust."
Tears prick my eyes when I think about what this book was for me when I was growing up. In a way, I felt a lot like the girl, Sara. She believed herself to be a princess, and even though her world was falling apart at the hands of someone else, she pulled through, despite the cruelty she suffered. I hadn't read it in years, but when I saw it at Donna's house, I read it again and found it to be just as meaningful as an adult as it was when I was a child.
I set the book in its box on my lap and lean over to hug her. "I can't tell you what this means to me. Thank you."
"Thank you for accepting it."
When she sits back, she smiles and says, swiftly taking the focus off of her non-present, "So, tell me, when do you find out about your audition?"
Placing the cover back on the box, I say, "Today, actually. It should be posted this afternoon around five."
"Either way, I am so proud of you."
Hearing those words from her, every time she says them, fills little empty places in my heart. I never got to hear those words from my parents, so hearing them now does tremendous things to me.
"Tell me about this production. How many dances will I get to see you in?"
"You're coming?" I ask.
"Are you kidding me? I can't wait to see you dance."
Again, filling up little pieces of my heart.
Smiling, I tell her all about the three ensemble pieces I will be dancing. While I talk, she asks questions and is sincerely interested. We continue to enjoy each other's company and relax in our slow lazy morning. When we finish up, we decide to walk around the block and into some of the little boutique and fragrance shops. We both buy a few things here and there as we hop from store to store.
When I look at the woman Donna is, it's hard for me to imagine what her life used to be like with Ryan's father. Ryan told me that the night his dad died, he had beaten Donna pretty badly, smashing a coffee mug into the back of her head. Ryan was just coming home from a party and walked in on it. He said he lost all control of himself and started throwing punches. His dad managed to grab a knife from the counter and that's how Ryan got the scar on his ribs.
Once his dad died, Donna was determined to put that life behind them. Seeing them now, you would never know the hell they lived with. I know that Ryan still deals with the memories of it all. He told me that he's scared that he'll wind up like his father, and that's why he's never wanted to get serious with a girl. So he got pretty good at shutting down when he was with women. I hate to think about him being like that; I can't even picture him as that person because all I have ever known is the way he's always been with me.
Leaving the last store, we make our way back to the loft so that Donna can pack and start driving back to Cannon Beach. It's a little after twelve by the time we get back, and Ryan is waiting on us.
"Damn, that was a long breakfast," he says when we walk through the door carrying all of our shopping bags. Walking over to us, he kisses his mom and then me before taking the bags and setting them on the table.
"Sorry, time got away from us. If I didn't have to go home, I would have spent the whole day with her."
Ryan throws his arm around my shoulder and teases his mother. "Well, thanks for bringing her back, I'm sick of sharing her."
"Ryan!" I say as I nudge him playfully in the gut.
"Sorry, babe, but it's the truth," he says, then starts facetiously ravaging my neck.
"Okay, kids. I've seen enough. I'm going to go pack," Donna says, as she's already halfway down the hall.
"Ryan, that tickles," I chuckle out, trying to wriggle out of his arms, but it only encourages him. Picking me up off
the ground, he carries me to the couch and lays me down. Softening his kisses, he asks, "Did you have a good time this morning?"
"Uh huh," is all I can manage to say when he licks the hollow of my neck.
"Ryan, we should stop."
"Why?" He says this without taking his lips off of me.
"Because your mom is about to leave, and you should go spend a little time with her before she goes."
He lets out a sexy groan and pulls away. "Okay, but I'm not done with you," he says as he starts to walk away.
I give the two of them some alone time to visit while I start unpacking my new purchases. After hanging up my new dresses in Ryan's closet, I put my new bottle of perfume on the bathroom counter. When I look around his room and see my things, it makes me happy to be sharing this space with him, but it also reminds me that I'm not at home with Kimber. I've been so wrapped up in Ryan these past few weeks that I haven't thought much about her, but now I wonder. Wonder how she's feeling about everything, wonder if she's mad that I left again, wonder if I can mend this fracture between us.
"Candace," Ryan hollers from downstairs.
"Coming," I say, and when I get to the door where Donna is standing with her bags, I suddenly feel a twinge of sadness creep over me. A part of me doesn't want her to leave. She's become someone special to me, and having her near brings a peace that I've been missing all my life.
I don't say anything when I reach her, I just let her hug me, and when I feel the tears puddle in my eyes, I pull back. When she sees my sadness, her face pains. I blink, and the tears roll down my cheeks.
"Dear," she says softly before pulling me back into her arms, and I feel Ryan's supportive hand on my back.
"Come see me, okay?"
When I let go of her, I nod my head, not able to speak around the knot in my throat. Ryan wraps his arms around me from behind, and I lean back into him.
"When is your next break?"
Ryan answers for me, knowing that I don't like to talk when I get like this. "She has the last two weeks of this month off before her last quarter."
Looking at me, she says, "You and Ryan come visit, okay?"
As I nod my head, she picks up her bags, and Ryan says, "Mom, let me take those out for you."
"That's okay. I've got it. Stay in here with her."
"Thanks for coming, Mom. Call me when you get home."
"I will, and call me when you find out about the solo."
"We will," he responds.
When the door closes, Ryan turns me around in his arms and holds me until I can compose myself enough to pull away.
Cupping my head in his hands, I look up at him when he asks, "You okay, babe?"
"I hate that she lives so far away. I really like having her around."
Wiping my tears with the pads of his thumbs, he says, "I know you do. We'll go visit her when you're on your break."
I rest my head back against his chest, and I take a moment before saying, "My parents never even called me."
He runs his hand up the back of my head and grips me close when I add, "I mean...I knew they wouldn't, but it still hurts."
"I know it does."
I inhale a deep breath and let it out when he says, "Come on, let's go grab something to eat before we go to the campus."
"Sounds good. Give me a few minutes to freshen up?"
"Of course."
We have a long lunch at Eastlake Bar and Grill before driving to UW. We park and walk to Meany Theater. Walking up, I can see a crowd of fellow dancers walking inside to see if their name is one of the two that will be listed. I feel the butterflies in my stomach and turn to Ryan, "Can we just go for a walk first?"
"What? Don't you want to find out if you got it?"
"Yeah, but not around everyone else."
Holding my hand, he turns the other direction. By the time we walk through the quad and back to the theater, the crowd has dissipated, and we walk inside. My palms start to sweat when I see the white sheet of paper taped to the wall. When I step closer, I let out a loud sigh in disbelief. Shaking my head, I turn to Ryan and say, "I can't believe it."
"Believe it."
My rapid breathing slowly turns into laughter, and I sling my arms around Ryan's neck as he picks me up. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I squeal out, "I really can't believe it!"
Looking up at me, he smiles, wide and gorgeous. I lean my head down and kiss him, but it doesn't last long with my excitement. When I look up, I see Ms. Emerson and Sergej walk through a set of double doors. I jump out of Ryan's arms and try to reel in my emotions, but I can't seem to wipe the cheesy smile off my face.
When they walk past me, Ms. Emerson stops to face me. I notice a small twitch in the corner of her mouth as she gives a slight nod of her head before turning and walking out the door. Spinning around to Ryan, I can't contain myself, and I cover my face with my hands as I feel a weight being lifted from my chest that I never knew was there.
"Come over here," Ryan says, and I walk to him, straight into his embrace. "You're amazing, you know that?"
Looking up at him, I confess, "Because of you."
"No, babe. It's all you."
Today has been a mixture of emotions, and after I finish brushing my teeth, Ryan slides his arms around my waist from behind and starts kissing my neck. We watch each other in the reflection of the mirror, and when I turn around to face him, he picks me up and sets me on the edge of the sink. Tilting my head back to look up at him, he says, "You're fuckin' gorgeous."
He makes me laugh as he leans down to kiss me. My legs wrap around his waist, and I twine my fingers in his hair when he picks me up. When we fall into bed, he trails his kisses down my neck, and my body starts to shiver. He slowly pulls back and gazes down at me with an intensity burning in his eyes. Sliding my hand up his chest, I wrap it around his neck and pull him back to me.
Our kisses are slow and with a passion I haven't felt before. I thrust my tongue into his mouth and taste him, throwing myself into our kiss. His arms band tightly around me, and I've never felt so safe. My mind blurs, and I begin to lose myself in his touch.
When he lifts my back off the bed, I'm barely thinking when I pull off my top as he lets out a low groan. Lowering me back down, he shifts his hips between my legs and drags his head down to my breasts.
We've never moved quite like this before, but a part of me doesn't want to stop. What I feel for this man is more than I ever thought I was capable of feeling. For a while, I thought I would never truly laugh again, but with Ryan, I'm my happiest. He gives me what I have been desperate for. Feeling him on my fingertips is enough to take me over, and I now want more.
Dragging his mouth from me, he pants, "We should stop."
I'm not sure I want to though. I know I will never love anyone the way I love him; he's all I want.
"Don't."
"Babe," he says in heavy breath, searching my face.
When I look up in his eyes, I see all I ever want to see. He loves me in a way I never thought I could be loved.
"I don't want you to stop."
"I need you to talk to me."
I can tell he's unsure, I see it in his face.
"I don't want to stop tonight."
He closes his eyes and drops his head to mine. "Please tell me this is okay." When I nod my head against his, he says, "I need to hear you say it, babe."
Cupping his face in my hands, I say, "It's okay. I want this, with you, I just...I don't know if I can."
There is a worry in his eyes that I don't want him to have. Although I'm scared, I know I want him.
I take his hand with my trembling one and place it back on my breast and whisper, "Just touch me."
He leans down and kisses me, long and slow while he slides his hand underneath my bra strap and slips it off my shoulder. I've never taken my clothes off in front of him before, and I feel the anxiety pool in my belly as he slides the other strap down, kissing my bare shoulder along the way. Pulling the fabric down, my
pulse quickens, and in a moment of nervousness I confess, "I'm scared. I've never..."
Sweeping my hair back, he assures me, "It's just you and me. You're all I'll ever want."
He wraps his arms around me and unhooks my bra, dropping it on the floor. When he looks down at me, he sees my scar.
"He bit me," I say on a hush.
I hate that I have Jack's mark on my breast. It torments me to look at. It surprises me when Ryan leans down and kisses the scar.
"God, you're perfect," he breathes against my skin.
He drags his kisses down my stomach then sits back on his heels. Taking my hand in his, he places it over his scar on the side of his ribs. With words unspoken, I hear what he's telling me. We're both still alive, together, and we're okay. Brushing his scar with my thumb, I bring my hands to his stomach, feeling his defined lines under my touch as my fingers slide up, around his neck, and tangle into his hair. I pull him down and lose myself in him.
My legs begin to quiver when he hooks his thumbs inside the waistband of my pants. He strokes his knuckles across my belly before gently tugging down. When I lift my hips, he pulls off my pants and underwear, tossing them aside. I watch as he removes his pants, and when we are both naked, he lowers himself back on me and my whole body is trembling. He pulls the covers over us, and I start to wonder if maybe I can't do this. I want to, but I'm so scared. I have nothing good to associate with this, and I'm not sure I can.
Holding himself up on his elbows, he says, "Babe, you're shaking."
"What if I can't do this?"
"Then we stop."
Nodding my head, I am filled with nerves.
"We'll move as slow as you need. You just tell me when to stop."
"I don't want you to stop."
Giving me a smile, he leans down and kisses me. I wrap my arms around his neck and part my lips for him. He slides his tongue across my lower lip before he dips it into my mouth. We meld together as I run my hands down his neck and over his chest. His muscles are hard and cut beneath my hands, and I've never really taken my time to explore him until now. He's a lot larger than me, and I feel tiny underneath him, sheltered. I take my lips from him, skimming them across his tattooed covered shoulder to his neck.