Raising Ryann

by Alyssa Rae Taylor

  A smile plays at my lips. “I don’t know why you go at all.”

  “I am his wife. I’ve got to be somewhat supportive.” She sighs.

  “You’re right, and you’re a good wife, Pam.” I grin.

  “I know,” she kids.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re having a good time.” I bite at my nails, ‘cause that’s what I do when I’m nervous.

  “Me too. By the way, how are the classes going? How’s Luke doing with the girls?” Here we go.

  I hesitate before answering. The mention of his name makes my heart speed up. “He’s great actually. The girls love him.”

  “That’s good,” she replies softly. “And I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to tell you ahead of time. I just got so preoccupied with this trip that I forgot.”

  My hand starts hurting from the tight grip I have on the phone, so I switch ears to give it a rest. “I understand,” I answer, waiting for her to continue, but she doesn’t. Then I decide to throw her a bone. “So, how do you know Luke?”

  “Well, I uh …” she stutters. “We uh … Jim and I …”

  “He told you not to tell me. Didn’t he?” I interrupt, not letting her finish.

  She sighs into the phone. “I’m sorry, Reese. He was worried you would feel uncomfortable.”

  Uncomfortable? “Why?” I frown.

  “I asked him the same thing. He said, the last time he saw you …”

  “Was when I was nearly raped,” I whisper softly before adding, “I’m not broken, you know.”

  “I know,” she says soothingly. “He just wanted to be careful, that’s all. He’s been through a lot himself. He knows how traumatic experiences can affect a person.

  “Huh,” is all I respond, too busy thinking about her words. I get off the couch and strip off my clothes, making my way over to the hamper. “What happened to him, Pam? Why did they put him in foster care?”

  “That is something you need to ask him.”

  I frown. “Is there anything you can tell me? Like how old he is exactly?”

  She chuckles softly. “Let’s see. Well, he’s twenty-five,” then wistfully she adds, “he’s about six feet three inches tall, extremely handsome.” Her voice gets higher when she asks, “Wouldn’t you say he’s handsome?”

  “Yeah, he’s handsome,” I answer, using my best attempt to sound nonchalant. “He knows it, too.” I couldn’t help it. I just had to say it.

  “He’s a good man, Reese, and he’s done pretty well for himself considering the childhood his father gave him. Jim and I tried everything we could to get him out of that environment, but the state refused to let us adopt. We bought the car and stayed in contact through a cell phone, and on rare occasions, he’d come visit us at church. It was how we were able to keep in touch. Sure, he’s had some trouble, but we could never be prouder of him than we are right now.”

  “Wow,” is all I say because I can’t seem to form any other words. “Was his father like mine, then? Was he abusive?” I picture a smaller version of Luke getting shoved around.

  “I’m not going to get into details, but I will say, that he was—still is—much worse than your father. You’re going to have to ask Luke if you want anything else,” she replies, sounding a little stressed. Then adds, “Sorry, I just can’t.”

  I feel like a jerk for bothering her on vacation. “I’m sorry for bringing this up now. I should have waited.” I sit on the floor of my closet and straighten out my shoes.

  “Don’t be ridiculous! I’m glad you called.” I can tell her response is genuine. “You know every now and then,” she pauses, “Luke would ask about you.”

  I stop what I’m doing, unable to keep a smile from sliding across my face. He asked about me? “He did?”

  “Yep. Before he left, he made us promise to look out for you.”

  Those words make my heart melt. It’s like he was born to be my protector. I think it’s sort of cute. “So how did he get into fighting anyway?” I ask, even though it’s none of my business.

  “She sighs. “He found a place where he could release his aggression, and it didn’t take long to learn he was a natural. Within a short period of time he built a name for himself, making a large amount of money through fights and advertisements. He was only eighteen when it all started for him. After that, everything happened so fast.”

  “That’s impressive.”

  “It is, but what’s even more impressive is what he chose to do with his money.”

  I can tell the alcohol’s kicking in, so I stop her, before she gets into trouble. “Pam, are you going to be late for your facial?”

  “Oh shoot! What time is it?” I hear her ask someone away from the phone.

  “I gotta go,” she says, frazzled.

  “That’s fine. Oh, and Pam?” I ask before she can hang up.

  “Yes?”

  “Can you please not tell Luke that I figured out who he is?” I squeeze my eyes shut, praying she’ll keep this a secret.

  It takes a while for her to answer, but she finally says, “I don’t like lying to him Reese, but I’ll give you a little time. You should tell him.”

  “I will. Promise,” I say, after letting out a breath. “I just need to figure out how.” I throw on a t-shirt and plop down on my bed, sinking into the mattress.

  “You’ll be fine. I better get going, though.”

  “Oh jeez.” I glance at the clock. “I’m sorry. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll see you when you get back.”

  “Okay, and I don’t think we’ll be back in time for the annual party,” she whines. “But if you have any problems, call us.”

  “Oh, okay I will.”

  I hang up the phone and quickly drift off to sleep, preparing for my private lesson with Luke.

  It’s Saturday morning. The first day Luke and I work on submission techniques. This means we’ll spend plenty of time on the mats. Following Gia’s advice, I put on a form-fitting purple tank, and pair it with black, booty-flattering shorts. I’ve probably checked my reflection fifty times, but finally force myself to walk out the door.

  As I make my way into the gym, the first thing I notice is the place is dead quiet. It’s just another reminder that Luke and I will be in here alone. When I round the corner I see him. His back is to me, and it looks like he’s flipping through CDs—probably looking for music to drown out the uncomfortable silence. He’s wearing his usual track pants and what looks to be an Under Armour shirt that fits his broad shoulders perfectly. Once I realize I’m about to drool, I forcefully tear my eyes away. “Hey,” I finally say.

  He glances over his shoulder. “Hey.” As soon as his eyes land on my body, they widen, slowly drifting down every part, and linger on their way back up. Not knowing what to do with my hands, I fidget nervously from the heat of his gaze. He blinks a couple times then turns back around, saying nothing.

  “Everything okay?” I ask, trying my best to sound unaffected.

  It takes a while for him to answer when he finally says, “Yeah, why?” He keeps his head down as he picks through the rest of the CDs. I try to think of a good response, then he holds up a finger and reaches into his pocket. “Hold that thought,” he says, pressing his phone to his ear. “Hey Lo, what’s up?” And he walks right out of the room.

  My heart sinks. Lo? As in his girlfriend, Lauren? The euphoria I was feeling a second ago quickly fades. I turn away, trying to get myself together before he comes back. I don’t want to think about the beautiful blonde I’m competing with. It feels better to pretend she doesn’t exist.

  I twiddle my thumbs and mess with my hair, impatiently waiting for him to finish. I’m startled when I hear him say, “It’s fine. You had no choice.”

  I turn at the waist, spotting him standing close behind me, his left hand resting firmly on his hip. “Don’t put up with any more of his shit, Lauren,” he says, before his eyes meet mine. “Love you too,” he finishes.

  I feel sick. I pray it doesn’t show on my face.

>   “Later.” He sets his phone on the floor next to my bag, and I try my best to appear naturally unbothered—like my heart wasn’t just crushed into a million little pieces.

  I lift my eyes and ask, “Some guy bothering your girlfriend?”

  Scratching his head, he furrows his brows. “My what?”

  “Your girlfriend … Lauren.” I lick my lips that have instantly gone dry then sit on the ground. “Is she okay?”

  He watches me curiously, before his eyes turn playful, catching me by surprise. “Lauren’s fine.” He sits facing me then reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

  Tiny bumps appear on my skin, and I feel myself blush. “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, hoping to distract him.

  He shrugs. “There’s really nothing to say.” Glancing at my arms, he adds, “Are you cold?” Very gently he runs his finger down my shoulder, and I do everything in my power not to a shiver.

  Seriously? Can I hide nothing from this man? In the most convincing voice I can muster I reply, “It’s a little chilly, but I can handle it.”

  The corner of his mouth tips. “Can you?” He stands up, making his way over to the stereo, and my eyes follow. Then he gracefully strides back in my direction. The man is sexy—too sexy for his own good … or mine. “You ready?” he asks.

  More than ever, I want to tell him, but instead I just say, “Ready.”

  “All right, lay down. I want to show you something.”

  Is it just me, or did his voice sound funny when he said that? I do as I’m told, feeling my cheeks heat after he sits down beside me.

  My eyes lift to his face, finding a heart-stopping grin framed with two perfect dimples. “Did you go shopping?” he asks.

  My breathing changes. “How’d you know?” I smile nervously, hoping he doesn’t think he’s the reason for it. I watch his teeth run across his bottom lip as his fingertips graze my thigh.

  Tugging the edge of my shorts, he says, “You usually wear something … a little less tight.” Okay, so when he touched me, I stopped breathing. And then he has to go and say that!

  “Excuse me … less tight?” I scoot away from him, fuming. “You really are great with words, you know that?” I eye him up and down. “You should talk, show off! Your shirt looks like you bought it in the children’s section. Not really, but I’m pissed.

  He glances down at his shirt then rolls his eyes. “Will you calm down? I didn’t mean it in a bad way. Every time I see you …” He spreads his arms out. “You’re clothes are like five sizes too big,” he says, chuckling. “They never fit you fit you … like that.” His hand gestures to my clothes.

  “What does that even mean?” I look at him like he’s stupid. “And why didn’t you just say that in the first place?”

  He groans and runs a palm over his face. “Look, you’re making this a way bigger deal than it is. Can we move on if I tell you the truth?”

  I’m a little nervous about what the truth is, but I shrug and say, “Go for it,” in a snotty tone that I can’t help.

  He purses his lips and his eyes drop all the way down to my toes before returning to my face. “I’m not sure if I’ll be comfortable wrestling with you in that. Do you get what I’m saying?” His brows lift after speaking the words like he’s talking to a toddler.

  Huh?

  When I tilt my head confused, he softly chuckles, adding, “I’m trying to be a gentleman here.” The corner of his mouth tips. “Because I respect you.”

  Oh … so he means? Mother of God, did he really just say that? Well hell, that was unexpected. I feel the blood rush straight to my cheeks, and my voice comes out in a squeak when all I’m able to say is, “Thank you.”

  “Sorry,” Luke mumbles, sliding out from underneath me. He’s been distracted and distant for the last hour, and it’s really starting to get on my nerves.

  “You’re acting weird,” I tell him, as he paces around the room for the tenth time. He stills and throws his hands on his hips, watching me carefully.

  “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Like what?” He cocks a brow.

  “Like I have two heads?”

  He drops his gaze to the floor and laughs lightly. “Lets try it again,” he finally says, completely ignoring my question. “This time I’ll go for your knees and ankles.” Making his way back over, he adds, “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you. When we’re done, you can try the same on me. Okay?” He arches a brow confidently. It makes me want to punch him, and lick him, all at the same time.

  When I stop gawking, his words sink in, and I roll my eyes. “You think I’m weak.”

  He groans, clearly annoyed. “When did I give you that impression, Reese?”

  My mouth drops. “Are you joking? Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on you,” I mock.

  He kneels down, forcing me to look at him. “Trust me. I don’t think you’re weak,” his voice is kind, surprising me. “After a couple rounds, I’m going to make you work for it. Okay?” He grabs my hand to help me up, and my pulse races.

  “Okay,” I finally reply, once I’m confident I have a voice.

  Without warning, he uses his foot, sweeping at my ankles. When I start to fall, he wraps his arms around the back of my knees, and we tumble to the mat. The side of his face lands hard against my chest, and my insides suddenly feel like they’re on fire.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, lifting his head. I feel his cool, minty breath wash over my face as I try to look unaffected and totally badass.

  “I …” hesitating before I can give a normal answer, I say, “I’m fine.” I keep my face blank. “Is it my turn?”

  A smirk slides across his face, which should be illegal with him being this close to me. “Not yet. You still need to get out of this position. Use your foot like I showed you before. Remember?”

  I hook my foot underneath his thigh, trying to maneuver my hips out from under him, but his body is like dead weight against mine, and each and every part of him is over me, pressing me down. I’m grunting, pushing, and clenching my teeth. He just watches, with his smile growing wider and wider.

  “What!” I shout, unable to hold back.

  He laughs, and it penetrates through my belly. “You’re not very patient, are you?” His eyes sparkle playfully.

  “I’d be just fine if you didn’t have that obnoxious look on your face.” I’m fuming. It frustrates me that this one look brings out so many different emotions.

  “Sorry,” he says, trying to bite back his smile. “Don’t rush it. You’ll get better results if you’re patient.”

  I know what he’s saying is right. Patience has always been a weakness of mine, along with my temper and pride. “Maybe if you stop laughing at me, I could be a little more patient,” I spit.

  “I’m not laughing at you. It’s cute. You make these grunting noises, like a little animal.”

  I know my face is beet red when I start swinging. “I do not! You jerk!”

  Holding his hands out in surrender, he says, “Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll stop teasing.”

  I lift my chin. “Say I fight like a goddess, or I’ll beat you senseless.”

  “Fair enough. You fight like a goddess.” He cocks a brow. “Can we continue?” I agree to continue, and we alternate positions until both of us are tired and out of steam.

  Beads of sweat slide down the back of my neck by the time I reach my car. After placing a third call into the office, I finally give up and entertain the thought of moving. My Civic chooses to give me hell, so I beat on the steering wheel then violently dig through my purse. When I find what I’m looking for, I punch in a text.

  WOULD YOU MIND GIVING ME A RIDE TODAY???

  I’m thankful when the reply comes seconds later.

  Be there in ten.

  I wait in my car until Luke’s truck comes into view. It’s hot, I’m bitchy, and I really don’t want to deal with his shit.

  He rolls down the window with a smirk on his face. “Bad
day?”

  “How’d you guess,” I say sarcastically, opening up the passenger door.

  After I climb in, he leans over and buckles me in like a child. I let it slide because he looks and smells amazing. “Your text was in all caps.”

  “I don’t even think I meant to do that … must have been my subconscious,” I mumble.

  He eyes me curiously. “What’s going on?”

  “Everything.” I sigh. “It would take all day for me to explain.”

  “I’m all ears.” The corner of his mouth tips before we make our way out of the complex.

  I lean forward so I can feel the cool air blowing toward me. “Well for starters, the A/C in my apartment isn’t working right, and it’s absolutely miserable. On top of that, my car won’t start. Work at Chili’s was slow last night so I barely made any money. The bills just keep piling up. So now, I’m just waiting for something else to go wrong. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least.” I blow a strand of hair out of my eyes, and he chuckles.

  “It’s not the end of the world.” He places his hand on my knee. “I can give you the money to fix your car. Did you talk to management at your complex?”

  My eyes drop to his hand, and I mentally kick myself when he moves it. Clearing my throat, I say, “Thanks for offering, but I can’t accept that.”

  He furrows his brows, and I continue.

  “As far as management, I’ve tried multiple times. Nobody answers, and nobody calls back.” It’s quiet for a minute until we pull up at a red light.

  “Reese.”

  I turn and face him, his golden brown eyes sincere. “I said I’d get your car fixed,” he says softly, and I’m entranced by the intensity of his stare. “I’ll look at your A/C, too.” He grins. “But I can’t promise I’ll know what I’m doing.”

  I look at him, blank faced. “But I don’t know what’s wrong with it, or how much it’ll cost.” I shake my head. “You know what, don’t worry about it,” I say, tucking a hair behind my ear. “I’ll figure it out.”