The Right Side of Forever (The Perfect Duet Book 2)

by Meghan Quinn

  “Are you going to answer me?” I ask, as I brush my cheek against hers.

  “Maybe we can drop the conversation and just enjoy the scenery.”

  “Or you can talk to me because I love you, and anything you say isn’t going to affect the way I feel about you.”

  She turns her head to look at me, tilting back so she can really get a good view. “You know, when I first met you, I never thought I’d hear you say something like that. You were so closed off. I felt bad for Rory, yet here you are, challenging me the same way Rory would challenge me.”

  I shrug. “I learned from the best. Now stop avoiding the question and talk to me. I want to know everything about you, Ryan, and that requires you to open up.”

  She sighs and sinks into my chest, her head pressing against my shoulder, her arms clasping around mine. I kiss her temple and whisper into her ear, “Come on, baby, share with me.”

  She takes a few deep breaths; I know this is hard for her. She seems to be an open person, and to some extent she is, but this is different. “I wasn’t the girl you see now back then.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  One of her fingers starts slowly rubbing back and forth over my forearm, the touch spreading welcomed goosebumps over my skin. “I grew up in a split household. My dad thought the world of me. He still does. He thinks I’m the most beautiful creature that ever walked the planet. He instilled so much confidence in me that I would walk around proud of who I was.” She shakes her head. “But my mom . . . she had a different idea of who her daughter was. She saw me as a fat girl who was far too confident in her own skin and needed to be brought down to reality.”

  “What?” Immediately my skin starts to prickle, anger boiling in the pit of my stomach as my jaw clenches. How the fuck could a mother act that way toward her daughter? God, I hated that my mom was disinterested. Hated that my stepfather was abusive. But I hope to God, her mother didn’t treat her like my stepfather treated me.

  “At the time, I didn’t see it, not until I was brought down a few pegs. I was chubby, I wasn’t very pretty, and I didn’t have any friends really. My first true friend was Rory. She never ditched me. She stuck by my side through the thick and thin.” She pushes out a deep breath and continues, “My dad told me over and over again it was only baby fat, that I would grow out of it, but I was still beautiful. He never saw anything wrong with me, which gave me false confidence.”

  “False confidence?” I keep my arms wrapped around her, my heart pained for the little girl Ryan describes. I can picture her in my head, and it just about kills me that she was picked on by her own damn mother.

  “Middle school was the hardest three years of my life. I was a late bloomer and no matter what I did, I never was able to be the girl I strove to be. I had a little notebook I put together of all the images I wanted to achieve—of the hair I wanted, the outfits, the makeup. I thought if I could be like those girls in the magazines, I could be popular. So I tried and failed miserably. I was picked on, I was called fat, chubby, ugly, and every other word you can imagine from middle school kids. I was bullied day in and day out for splitting my pants, for having a double chin, for eating snacks in classes because I was hungry all the time.”

  My stomach churns, my body aching, hollowing out. Why are kids so cruel?

  “I had boys say they would go out with me but ended up making out with another girl the next day. I was pushed in the hallway, and boys would bet to see if they could knock me down; cow tip me as they would say.” She grows quiet. “I would come home crying and my mom would tell me to stop letting my dad buy me ice cream, to start working out more, that all the bullying was a direct result of me not trying.”

  What in the actual fuck?

  The clench of my jaw is so goddamn tight. God, her mom sounds like a bitch. How is Ryan so amazing?

  “It got much worse until it got a little better. The end of my sophomore year things started to turn around. I found Rory, we became friends, I finally started to lose weight, and then I learned how to properly apply makeup. It got better, but the words, the taunts, the harassment from classmates and my mom, they’re everlasting. You can’t erase them. Magazines and society, told me what pretty looked like. And it’s not me. And it’s very hard to erase what you perceive as beautiful and see it as something else. You wonder why I wear makeup, why I’m always doing my hair? It’s because when I look in the mirror, I don’t see someone who’s pretty. I see the little girl in middle school with the chubby cheeks, braces, and awkward haircut.”

  “Ryan, baby.” I squeeze her tight. “You know that’s not the truth, right? You’re incredibly gorgeous without fake eyelashes, high heels, and makeup. You’re naturally gorgeous.”

  Instead of responding, she snuggles her head against my shoulder and closes her eyes, I hope, soaking in the warmth and love I’m trying to give her. We sit there for who knows how long. Time passes, the sun sets, and hikers walk by, their conversations drowning out as they pass.

  I know what it’s like to be degraded by a parental figure, told over and over I won’t be good enough. I know the toll it can take on you, but then again, Ted was my stepfather. Ryan is hurting—damaged—suffering from her past, and it fucking scares me, because I don’t want it to hurt our future, not when I finally have her, not when I can finally say she’s mine.

  Chapter Twenty

  COLBY

  “I don’t think I can do this.” Ryan halts, stopping a few feet from the door.

  “You can do this.”

  She shakes her head. “No, it’s so awkward. Everyone is going to look at me like I’m the one who ruined everything.”

  I take her hand and kiss the back of it, trying to reassure her. “They really aren’t. They are happy for us.”

  She puts her hand on her hip and whispers, “They’re happy? You broke off an engagement and are now dating someone a few weeks later. That is so not cool. I look like the mistress.”

  I roll my eyes. “You’re not the mistress. The engagement was broken off mutually, and Sage really wants to see you.”

  She takes her hand from mine. “I really don’t think we should touch or anything. How about you go in first and I’ll come a few minutes later? Be cool. Casual.”

  “That’s not happening.” I tug on her hand. “Come on, let’s get it over with.”

  “They’re going to hate me,” she says quickly, and when I turn to face her, I can see the true worry in her eyes—her insecurities—and I’m reminded of the taunting she went through. Does she fear the same behavior from our friends?

  Sighing, I bring her in close and kiss the side of her head. “Ryan, if for a second I thought they’d be mean to you in any way, I would never bring you here for a get together. Can you trust me and know I’m here to protect you, not put you in a situation that’s going to make you uncomfortable?”

  “I trust you, Colby, I’m just scared.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ve got me this go around, and I’ll protect you. It’s what I do best.” I lift her chin and give her a quick kiss on her lips. “Everyone is going to be cool. I promise.”

  “Even Balboa?”

  I nod. “Even Balboa.” If there is one man I totally feel right with, it’s Balboa. Sage spoke to her brother first and told him it was a mutual decision. She told him she hadn’t felt right about us for some time, and that the preparations for the wedding had felt as though they were for someone else’s wedding. Balboa punched me once in the gut—just because—and then said he was done; he knew I hadn’t been an asshole, and we were cool because his sister was cool. And that’s how it’s done in man world. Ryan has nothing to worry about as far as Balboa is concerned.

  She looks over my shoulder to the door. “Okay. Let’s do this. But no touching.”

  “It’s not like I’m going to grab your pussy in front of them. I’m just holding your hand.”

  “That’s too much. I don’t want to rub it in their faces, and I swear if you grab my pussy in
front of them, we are not having sex for months. Months, Brooks.”

  My head tilts back as I laugh. “Okay. No grabbing of the pussy but I’m holding your hand. Don’t be ashamed of us.”

  She tilts her head. “I’m not ashamed, Colby.”

  “Then hold my hand, beautiful.”

  I offer my hand, and she takes it without hesitation. Palms connected, her body next to mine, just the way I like it.

  I don’t even bother knocking; never really have before since this house is a second home. When we walk through the entryway to the back of the house, I feel the slight tug of her reluctance, but I keep pushing through.

  Everyone is in the kitchen so when we appear, holding hands, the room falls silent. Ryan stiffens next to me, tries desperately to release the grip I have on her hand, but I hold on tight. Sage is cooking a giant pot of what looks to be pasta sauce, with an apron wrapped around her thin waist. When she looks up, she studies us for a second, her eyes scanning us, pausing on our hands.

  For a brief second, I worry, but that’s quickly washed away when Sage smiles a bright smile, puts down her wooden spoon, and says, “Ah, you guys are here.” She walks up to us and gives me a hug before turning to Ryan and wrapping both arms around her. Tentative at first, Ryan returns the hug but quickly falls into it when Sage grips her tightly.

  “It’s about time, asshole,” Colt says, rubbing his stomach. “I’m starving.”

  “You ate a slice of pizza on your drive over here,” Bent says, blowing his cover.

  “Because I’m starving.” Colt rolls his eyes dramatically.

  Rowdy is sitting in the corner, a disgruntled look on his face and drinking a beer, while Balboa is playing with a yo-yo, doing ridiculous tricks that will annoy just about anyone.

  “Ah, I’m so happy you guys made it. Garlic bread is in the oven, pasta is ready, and the meat sauce is simmering. I think we’re ready. It’s self-serve. Colt, you’re last because you will take way too much.”

  Sage steps to the side, takes out the garlic bread, and motions to the plates. “Go on, start serving yourself.

  No one moves, so I take the initiative to grab plates for Ryan and me. We walk down the assembly line and snag some dinner before taking our plates into the living room to sit down.

  “Want a drink?” I ask her.

  “Water is fine.” She’s still being shy and not herself. I want to lift her lips to mine and tell her once again everything is fine, but I’m afraid she’ll punch me in the balls if I touch her.

  So instead, I walk into the kitchen and talk as quietly as I can to everybody. “Hey”—I gather their attention—“Ryan is worried you all hate her because we’re together now, so can you reassure her that that’s not the case?”

  “She does?” Sage asks, her face falling. “Oh, that’s going to be fixed. Boys, put down your plates, we need to go tell Ryan how much we love her.”

  “Sage, that’s not—”

  She snaps her fingers and the boys follow her, as if she’s the leader of the pack. What the hell just happened?

  I follow behind with bottles of water in hand.

  “Ryan, we don’t hate you,” Sage announces when she gets to the living room. I cringe as Ryan’s head snaps toward me, murder beaming from her eyes. Thanks a lot, Sage.

  “I didn’t say you hated me. Jesus, Colby, what did you say to them? I was just nervous that maybe I wasn’t welcome anymore, that this might be awkward for everyone.”

  “It’s not.”

  “Nope.”

  “Not even a little.”

  “Feels right.”

  The guys add in their two cents, Sage following after. “I always thought you and Colby had a strong connection, Ryan. I was never jealous of it. I thought it was a beautiful friendship. When I started to consider that maybe Colby and I weren’t a perfect match, I began to realize that you two were. I’m excited about you two being together. Colby and I split on good terms. Is it a little awkward that I know what he looks like naked? Sure.” My face blushes as Balboa rolls his eyes and mutters something under his breath. “But that will wear off. I don’t want you thinking you’re not welcome. We’re seriously good. No bad blood between us. You’re a good friend, and I want to keep it that way.”

  “Really?” Ryan asks, looking relieved.

  “Of course. In the midst of all these fighter pilots, we have to stick together.” She winks and then claps her hands together. “Okay, back to the food, we don’t want it getting cold.”

  The guys shuffle past me along with Sage, leaving me briefly alone with Ryan. I sit next to her and hand her a water. Plastering a smile on my face, I say, “Wasn’t that nice?”

  Leaning in, Ryan quickly reaches out and pinches my nipple. Legit gets a finger full and pinches the fuck out of the damn thing.

  “Shit.” I swat her away and rub my pec. “What the hell, babe?”

  She points her finger angrily at me. “No sex for a month.”

  “What?” I protest. “I didn’t touch you—”

  “No, you made a scene, which is way worse. I would have rather you bent me over the couch and started nailing me from behind instead.”

  I scratch the back of my head. “Well fuck, if I knew that was an option, I would have gone with that approach.”

  “I hate you.” There is a small smirk at the corner of her lip.

  I swipe my arm around her waist and pull her in close, nuzzling her ear with my nose as I say, “Nah, you love me. Don’t even pretend you’re mad at me. I told you everything was okay.”

  “That was embarrassing,” she mutters.

  I kiss her cheek and say, “It was not, and at least you know you’re still loved. Everyone is happy for us.”

  “I don’t know why. I would be bitter if I were in Sage’s shoes.”

  “That’s because you love me more than she ever did. Of course you would be bitter.” I bring her plate to her lap from the coffee table. “Now eat up, you’re going to need the energy tonight when I fuck that sexy pussy of yours until you’re screaming my name for everyone in this house to hear.”

  She tilts her head, giving me a little more access to her neck. “Just try to make me scream.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  “It is.” She winks at me and turns back to her plate.

  Challenge accepted.

  “Babe, are you making me breakfast?”

  Ryan turns around, spatula in hand, wearing one of my Air Force shirts, looking sexy as shit with her hair at her shoulders, and her face completely devoid of makeup. Over the past few weeks, I’ve noticed the way she’s slowly worn less makeup around me. She won’t go anywhere like work or on a date without makeup, but if we have a day off, she won’t put any on. It’s refreshing. I fucking love it.

  “I’m attempting to make eggs. I can’t promise they’re going to be good.”

  I love this woman, down to my very soul, but fucking hell is she a terrible cook. She’s made me one meal and that was that. Fried chicken that turned out to be greasy, oil-soaked chicken and burnt broccoli. I’m not much of a cook myself, but at least I have a few staples under my belt. We eat out a lot. She’s also messy. She leaves her lingerie and clothes and her cosmetics everywhere. But she is good at doing the dishes, thank God. Let’s not forget her other beautiful attributes, though. She also gives amazing head, like blackout status. I swear to Christ, I see stars every time she sucks me into her hot mouth.

  “Eggs are good. Do you have the burner on a lower heat?” She nods. “And you’re moving the eggs around?” She nods. “Then you’re doing good. Want me to grab the cheese?”

  “That would be great. I’m trying to avoid burning these. I have to be able to make you something edible. I need to take cooking classes.”

  I bring the cheese over to her and place my hands on her hips, kissing up her neck, her hair dancing against my bare chest.

  “I kind of like you being a hot mess in the kitchen. It’s endearing.”

  “So yo
u would rather have burnt, gross food than me trying to learn to cook?”

  “I want whatever keeps you here, naked but for my shirt, looking hot as fuck with a spatula in your hand.” I move my hands under the shirt and expose her bare ass. Round and tight, so fucking sexy.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” She looks at me from over her shoulder. “You’re going to make me burn the eggs.”

  “Spread your legs,” I say in a commanding voice.

  She shakes her head. “That Air Force voice doesn’t work on me. Nice try.”

  I move my hand down her crack and between her legs, forcing her to spread to fit my large hand.

  “Spread farther, Ryan.”

  She leans back against me, one hand on the counter as my fingers reach her front. “Colby,” she says but moans at the same time. “I don’t want to mess up the eggs.”

  “And I want to taste this pussy. Who’s going to win?”

  “I know who’s going to lose,” she says, reaching over to the burner and turning it off before spinning in my hold and taking her shirt off, leaving her naked and fine as fuck.

  “Goddamn, Ryan.” I bend to my knees and drape one leg over my shoulder and then the other so her pussy is right against my face. Her hands grip the back of the counter, her head tilts, and I get right down to pleasuring her.

  I spread her open and press my tongue against her clit, humming for a few heartbeats before flicking the little bundle of nerves. I glance at her and watch her back arch, thrusting her hips into my mouth and her tits into the air.

  I reach up with one hand and move it across her tits, pinching her nipples and rolling them between my fingers.

  “God, yes.” Her hips start to move against my tongue, and in the matter of seconds, she’s moaning loudly, my name falling off her tongue as she comes on my face, shuttering and pulsing. Seeing her come is one of the best sights ever, next to seeing her at peace in my arms.

  She rides out her orgasm and when she’s done, she takes a deep breath before hopping off my shoulders and pushing me back on the floor, determination in her eyes. She glances at my hard-on, smiles, and sits backward on my chest, so I get a great view of her ass. Bending at the waist, she lowers the waistband of my boxer briefs and takes my cock in her mouth, moving one of her hands to my balls and the base of my cock. She rubs the underside of the root with her thumb, making me harder than before. God, this woman. Sexy as fuck.