“You’re blushing,” Ryan whispered, smiling. I sighed again. He chuckled. I cut my eyes to his, expressing my aggravation.
“Okay,” he whispered, as if he understood, and moved his hand away. “I like it though. It’s nice to see that happen when I touch you.”
My head was down, but I peeked up at him. He was smiling again, which made me smile, erasing the memory of my crimson face.
“You wanna watch a movie or something?” he asked, and clicked on the TV. He tried to hand me the remote, but I knew just by looking at it that there was no way I could work it without formal lessons. It was digital and controlled everything in the room, so he brought up the choices and told me to let him know when I saw something I liked. I needed to be careful what I chose. I couldn’t risk anything R rated, so I picked one about some kids who were dog sitters. It was PG, probably because one of them said damn or something.
Ryan looked at me like I was nuts. “Next,” he said, without even looking at me. I was surprised he vetoed my choice. “What about that one?” I suggested. It was about a group of teenagers who solved mysteries.
“You have the worst taste in movies,” he griped.
“Sor-ry,” I chanted. Ryan continued flipping though the titles, and then abruptly stopped. He looked at me with surprise on his face. “You’re choosing those kid movies on purpose,” he accused. My face instantly turned bright red again. “Ha!” he exclaimed, entertained by the revelation. “You are.”
“Shut up,” I said. I couldn’t think of anything clever to say. He’d busted me.
“What are you trying to avoid? Romance? Nudity? Sex scenes?” he questioned merrily, because he knew that was exactly what I was trying to avoid.
“No,” I snapped. “I’ll watch whatever you want.” I pointed at him, challenging him to challenge me. He grinned, but surprisingly let it drop.
“What about this one? It’s an action movie.”
“Fine,” I instantly agreed, without looking at the title.
“I’ve seen it before. It’s free of contraband; just lots of blood and cussing.” He smiled; pleased he’d discovered my fear.
“Are you going to be like this all night?” I asked, a pinch of contempt in my tone.
“Probably,” he admitted happily.
“Fantastic.” I looked at him like I hoped he would be.
After all that, we only watched about ten minutes of the movie before we started talking.
“Did your dad call you Amelia earlier?” Ryan asked. I thought he’d missed that. “It was his mother’s name.”
“How did you get Annie out of Amelia?”
“I didn’t. My middle name’s Anne.”
“Amelia Anne,” he said softly. “That’s nice, pretty.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at the compliment, my face, surprisingly remained flesh colored. “What’s yours?”
“Lucas. Ryan Lucas.”
“That sounds so normal,” I laughed. “I was expecting Mitchum or Wentworth or something.”
“Oh, so you expected me to have a bunch of last names.”
“Sort of,” I snorted.
He snickered, and then changed the subject. “Your parents are nice.”
“Thanks. You lucked up getting to meet them. Like I said, they’re not home much, especially at the same time.”
“Does that bother you?”
“Nah, I’m used to it.”
“Do they try to psychoanalyze you and stuff?”
“Not really. When they don’t want me to do something they send me subliminal messages through psychological voodoo techniques to make me behave, like before we left, for example.”
Ryan smiled remembering how my dad had told me to make good choices. “He used to put notes in my lunch box when I was a kid. Make good choices today. Remember to be who you are all the time. Don’t be a follower. Decide for yourself. I do have a sneaking suspicion that allowing me to roam free may have more to do with them than me. Like it’s an experiment they’re secretly writing about in some obscure medical journal. Sometimes I think if Pam wasn’t such a great influence in my life, I would probably be pretty weird.”
“Pam’s important to you,” Ryan stated, but almost like he wanted me to confirm it.
“She is,” I admitted, smiling. “She used to call me her happy accident.”
“Why is that?”
“My parents were told they couldn’t have children, and then after fifteen years of marriage Bam! Happy accident.”
“Sort of like the day we met?” he asked.
“Exactly like the day we met,” I agreed.
“What about you? I know you and John are close, what’s your relationship with your mom like?” Ryan blew out a long breath and slightly shook his head. “My mom is…um. We’re not close like my dad and I. She’s very self-centered. She thinks of me as a possession of hers. She worries about how what I do will affect her or make her look. She wants me to make choices for her and not for me, so what little relationship I have with her is strained because of that.”
“Wow, I’m sorry,” I apologized, unsure what else to do.
“It’s fine. She just likes to get her way. I don’t agree with that philosophy. I love my dad, but he lets her have whatever she wants to save an argument. I don’t always go with the flow when it comes to her wants.”
“What does she want from you?”
He chuckled.
“What?” I asked, wondering if it was something terrible.
“Okay,” he grinned, as if letting me know I was in for it. “She wanted me to continue going to Brighton—” “You went to Brighton?” I gasped. He laughed; he’d expected that reaction from me.
“I went there through eighth grade, but they don’t have the kind of baseball program that Hurst has. Brighton focuses more on academics than sports. Their teams are more like intramural teams as far as skill goes. It took a little convincing, but she finally gave in after meeting with the coaches and allowed me to transfer to Hurst. It probably didn’t hurt that my father bought her a very expensive piece of jewelry to help influence her. She practically made me sign a contract with my own blood promising to remain on the honor roll, otherwise…” he trailed off. “She would make you go back to Brighton.”
“Yep, but she was keeping the necklace either way,” he grinned. She obviously loved material things. I could only imagine what the rest of her house looked like.
“She also has it in her head that I’m going to be some big business tycoon. I mean, I’m obviously planning to go to college, but I don’t want anything to do with a billion dollar corporation. I wanna play ball, and if I can’t do that, I’ll coach, but somehow I’m going to be involved with baseball for the rest of my life.”
“That it?” I asked, amused.
“Not quite.” Ryan shook his head. “She would like for me to take more interest in her social events. Snooty stuff where everyone is nice to your face, then calls you an assbag behind your back.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Assbag is a funny word.
“I already told you that she chose my furniture. She also chose the car I drive and regularly has clothes she’d like for me to wear delivered here; designer stuff—things I don’t need or want. I’m not complaining about the car or anything, but I’m not going to be one of those guys at school who shows up wearing a Rolex and Hugo Boss every day.”
I thought that was funny. He wasn’t like that at all.
“Anything else?”
“One more.”
“Lay it on me,” I smiled.
“It would make her truly happy if I allowed her to choose who I date. She tries to set me up all the time. I think she would already have a marriage arranged for me if there were a legal way for her to get away with it.”
I frowned. I didn’t know what to say to that. My mother stayed completely out of my business and allowed me to choose what I wanted for myself.
“But like I said, I’m not like my father when it comes to giving
in to her.”
“What kind of girls does she choose for you?”
“Doesn’t matter. That’s something I won’t allow her to mettle in. He stared provocatively at me. Almost successfully scrambling my mind enough to forget what we were talking about.
“Knock it off,” I warned. He laughed and looked away.
“Okay, so she doesn’t get her way in that area—normally,” I grinned curiously at him. “But if she did, what kind of girl would she choose for you?”
Ryan mashed his lips together, suppressing a laugh. “A society girl.” I frowned. “The kind of girl who attends debutante balls and has a coming out party and wants boys to make appointments to call on them, which pretty much means sitting around with her parents making small talk until her father signals that it’s time to propose, because the parents are really the ones who make the final decision in that scenario.” He looked pale by the end of his explanation, as if he was afraid of and repulsed by the practice.
“I guess she won’t be too happy about me then.”
“Probably not,” he confirmed.
“Will she try to have me rubbed out?” I asked smiling.
“No,” he laughed, “but I wouldn’t expect her to be too warm, if you know what I mean. She can be pretty nasty when she doesn’t get her way.”
I wondered how she’d roped him into going to prom with the girl from Brighton, but decided not to ask. I was too wound up over his certainty that his mother would hate me.
“Maybe I should meet her,” I suggested hastily.
“I’ll introduce you when it’s time. Trust me when I say, the longer we wait, the better.”
“I’m spending the night in her house. You don’t think it’s time?”
“She would probably be pissed if I introduced you now. It’s one-thirty in the morning.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“She has no idea you’re here. She never comes down here. If she needs me for anything, she calls my cell phone and has me come to her. You could move in with me and she’d never know it.” A naughty smile formed on Ryan’s lips and spread to his eyes.
“Looks like we could do whatever we wanted without anyone ever finding out. My parents don’t care if I come home and yours have given you maximum privacy privileges by putting you down here.”
Ryan nodded, agreeing, his lips tightening. “I do have to say that we are extremely well behaved for two shockingly under supervised teenagers.”
“We are,” I agreed, staring at him, unable to force my eyes away from his. “Is it hard for you to be so well behaved?”
“Right now, it’s insufferable.” His tone made me want to laugh, but I knew exactly how he felt. The word want crossed my mind again.
“It’s not exactly easy for me either,” I mumbled.
“I did give you my word.”
“You did. I just didn’t expect you to keep it so well,” I admitted.
“I never break a promise,” Ryan breathed.
“Never?”
“Nope.”
“Liar. Every person on earth has broken a promise.”
He raised an eyebrow, smiling slyly. “If I were told it was okay to do something I previously promised not to, then that would be different.” I caught his hint. “So all I would have to do is say it’s okay.”
“That’d be it.”
Ryan looked as if he was daring me. I watched him look at me, like he was waiting for me to give in to him. The corner of my mouth drew back, forcing my mouth into a crooked grin. “Do you always get your way?” His lips twitched, fighting a smile. “I did until I met you.” He stared at me in a way that made me want to allow him to continue his streak.
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep my word,” he whispered, then he licked his lips, taking his bottom lip into his mouth, raking his teeth slowly across, until it was back in place. I gasped, realizing what he was doing.
“You’re trying to manipulate me into asking you to kiss me.” He should have known that I, of all people, would have caught on to that.
“Am not.” He flashed a guilty smile.
“Liar. That’s exactly what you’re doing.”
He laughed. “I am not.”
I watched him for a moment before I spoke. “If I did that, if I asked you, then I would appear weak to you.”
“No you wouldn’t. That wouldn’t make you weak. It would make you human,” he said sweetly. “Besides,” he grinned, “I know you want to.”
“You’re not doing it very well—manipulating me, that is,” I informed him. “Do you want to give me some pointers Dr. Reynolds?” he asked mockingly. “I might,” I confessed. Ryan’s eyes were still provoking me to give in to him. I guess he thought looking at me that way, the way that drove me crazy would make it happen.
I have no idea where the sudden burst of confidence came from, but I moved closer to him, settling my body in front of his, staring boldly at him. “Not until I say,” I instructed in a whisper. My gaze moved slowly from his eyes to his mouth. I bit my bottom lip as I contemplated my next move, mostly for his benefit.
I lightly touched Ryan’s lips with the tips of my fingers before moving my mouth toward his. I slid my hands into his hair, tangling my fingers in. Ryan’s lips parted, his breath quickened. My mouth was so close to his that I could feel the electricity crossing back and forth between us. He was anxious. I could feel that I was exciting him. It made me feel powerful, motivating me to keep going.
I drew in a breath as if ready to speak the words he was waiting for. Instead, I licked slowly across his mouth. His hands on my hips increased their grip on me. “Break your promise,” I murmured, tightening my fingers in his hair. “Do it,” I breathed. “Now.”
Ryan kissed me, pulling me closer to him until my body was even against his. I thought of what Lindsay said about some boys not knowing what to do with their hands while making out. Ryan definitely didn’t have that problem. He surprisingly didn’t try to grope me. It’s not that I thought he would take me kissing him as an invitation to go all the way, but I thought he might try to touch something off limits.
I really liked how our G rated make out session was making me feel, until my hormones made my brain think about R rated things.
I began to fear that my ruse would backfire if we didn’t stop soon. I didn’t want to be the one to stop. I needed him to do it. I was supposed to be manipulating him. It was starting to feel like he was working me instead, and then he pulled away. Ryan groaned as he gently rolled me off of him, both of us working to catch our breath.
He touched his lips. “You licked my mouth,” he said raggedly.
“It was necessary to get you to break your promise,” I said authoritatively, pleased I hadn’t lost control of the situation.
“You wanted me to break my promise?” he asked, bemused.
“And it worked,” I grinned.
“That shouldn’t count. You know I wanted to in the first place.”
“I expected you to, even without my nudging you in that direction.”
“Wait.” He raised up to look at me. “You expected me to try to kiss you, and you agreed to stay here anyway.” I shrugged my shoulders, attempting to seem above suspicion. “Are you trying to work some kind of psychological voodoo on me?”
“No,” I laughed.
“Was that some sort of test to see how long it would take for you to make me completely crazy?”
“No.”
“Because you are—making me completely crazy,” he breathed. “And confusing me at the same time. One minute you’re blushing because I touched you, and the next you’re on top of me licking my face.”
I laughed. “It’s good for you. Just think of what you still have to look forward to.”
“Believe me, I am,” he growled. “Where did you pick up that licking the mouth thing anyway?”
“That was new for you?”
“Completely.”
“How’d you like it?” I asked, glowing with satis
faction.
“I think you know,” he groaned.
“David used to do it to me. I thought it was weird.”
“Maybe he didn’t do it to you like you did it to me.”
“He didn’t,” I said mischievously.
“Maybe you would like it better if I did it to you.”
“Maybe, but we’re not going to find out tonight because I’m going to bed now.” I hopped up off the couch. Ryan looked disappointed, but didn’t complain. “Good night,” he said.
I winked at him and went to his room. I felt like I floated, instead of walked there. I made sure he heard me twist the lock before closing the door. I eagerly leaped into his bed so I could wrap myself up in his scent. It was the next best thing to having him in bed with me, which would have been way too dangerous for me right now. I tangled myself up in his blankets, snuggled my face into his pillow and breathed deeply.
18
I made sure I was presentable and had brushed my teeth before I went into the great room. Ryan was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper and eating cereal. He looked so normal. I hadn’t thought of him as someone who read the paper during breakfast, but he was in it a lot, so maybe that’s what had struck up the habit.
Ryan stood up when he saw me. He was dressed in khaki shorts, and a black shirt with red lettering. I had no idea what it said. I just knew it fit him perfectly. He was wearing a red baseball cap. It must have been one he wore often because the fabric around the bill was frayed. He smiled and I thought I would lose my breath.
“Did you sleep okay?”
“Yeah. Were you okay on the couch?”
“Fine. I sleep there sometimes on the weekends. It’s supposed to be nice out today. What do you want to do?”
“Whatever you want.”
“I’m going to ignore that.” I knew what he was thinking. “Good, because that isn’t an option yet.”
He grinned, closed mouthed, eyes glimmering as if he wanted to say something else, but didn’t. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me and delivered a few, more appropriate ideas.
I breathed him in while he held me, completely blissful in his embrace. My head against his chest, I closed my eyes and listened. “We could go to the park, or the lake, or we could stay here and go swimming, or watch the rest of the movie we started last night,” he chuckled.
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