You Before Me

by Lindsay Paige

  With my forefinger under her chin, I keep her in place, pressing my lips against hers for just a moment.

  “You're terrible,” I chuckle. “Pay attention to the game. You may have Gramps convinced, but I want to see if you remembered anything.”

  Once the game resumes, I start questioning her, and she answers correctly each time. Sometimes, it takes a moment before she can think of the right answer. It's adorable because she'll look up at me expectantly, waiting for me to nod in approval. We do this into the fourth quarter.

  “Okay, what was that?”

  “A fumble.” Ryan turns to me, and I nod that she's right once more. She smiles, satisfied, before turning her attention back to the game. “Did you doubt your teaching abilities, Gabe?” She teases, without looking away from the current play.

  “No. Just checking to see how well I did.”

  She chuckles, but doesn't say anything more. We watch the rest of the game with only a few comments here and there. As expected, we win. Owen's team held a good lead throughout the game. My family follows Ryan and I as we walk over to the field goal posts, waiting for his coach to finish talking to them. Ryan stands close to me, much as before, and I keep my arm around her.

  Owen grins big at Ryan when he makes his way over. His hair is sweaty and matted down on his head from his helmet. Owen holds up his hand and Ryan high fives it.

  “Good game,” she tells him.

  “Thanks. I'm excited that you're joining us for Thanksgiving next week.” I told my family soon after we came back from Raleigh.

  “Owen,” my mother sternly interrupts. “We should go.”

  “Yes, ma'am. See y'all later,” he mumbles. Owen gives me a fist pump, hugs Ryan, and then hugs my grandparents.

  We all say our goodbyes, Gramps hugging Ryan, and then we go our separate ways. I was able to park near Ryan and as we walk towards our cars, she looks over at me.

  “I guess your mother isn't thrilled about me joining y'all?”

  “That's not it. Owen was caught sneaking in this week, so he's in trouble. That's all,” I reassure her.

  Ryan nods, goes over to open the little door to the gas cap, and grabs her keys. She unlocks her doors, and I open it for her.

  “I'll see you at your place?”

  “Yes, you will.” I give her a kiss before she gets in, and I go to my own car. I'm so happy I told her she should pack ahead of time and come stay with me tonight.

  My stomach growls loudly. It hits me that I haven't eaten supper yet. Ryan pulls up right behind me and once inside the house, I go straight to the fridge while Ryan goes and puts her things in my bedroom. I decide to fix a grilled ham and cheese and while I'm standing at the stove, Ryan comes up behind me, burying her face in between my shoulder blades.

  “Your parents still hate me, you know,” she whispers into my back.

  “They do not,” I object.

  “Oh really?” she says sarcastically. “That's why they all talked to me like Gramps or even Owen did.” Ryan sighs, and I realize she's right. Not one of them really spoke to her. “But it's not me who has to get used to that, Gabe. I mean, what I'm trying to say is that there is a serious possibility that your parents aren't ever going to like me and that Thanksgiving is going to be shot all to hell. So if you plan on keeping me around, you are the one who has to get used to it.”

  I scoop my sandwich onto the small plate, turn off the stove, and face Ryan. Cupping her cheeks, I tell her, “They do not hate you. They just don't know you yet.”

  She rolls her eyes. “They tried so hard to fix that.”

  “Did you try to talk to them?” I question, raising an eyebrow at her.

  Ryan frowns. “I said, 'Hello, how are you.' Does that count?”

  “How about we forget my parents for tonight? How does that sound?”

  “Perfect.”

  I give her a kiss and ask if she would like a sandwich as well. She shakes her head. Ryan grabs me a drink from the fridge, grinning when she sees that there are some Sunkists in there.

  “So you do plan on keeping me around?” She says as we go into my living room.

  “Absolutely.”

  We sit down and turn on the TV, but Ryan still wants to talk. “I declared my major this week.”

  I smile. “You did? How do you feel about that?”

  “Liberated. Although, I haven't told my parents yet. They actually haven't even tried calling me at all this week. Not since I texted my mom to let them know that I wouldn't be going home. But I'm really excited about it. I've even looked up other museums and galleries in the state.”

  Ryan is thrilled about choosing a major, one that she wants without a doubt. That is clearly written all over her face, and I love seeing it. I especially love having her in my house, watching how comfortable she is here. My family needs to like her. Or at least respect that I want her in my life. Their opinion matters to me so much, even though I have ignored some of it since seeing Ryan. I've ignored theirs and my own reservations about her age, which actually no longer concerns me. I've definitely chosen to ignore the comments about her tattoos, because I love those.

  “Hey, did you ever decide on your next tattoo?” I ask, having finished my sandwich.

  “Yeah, I did. There's not really a reason for me to get this particular one, though. I was just searching the internet for inspiration, came across this one, and knew I needed it. Just a matter of going to get it.”

  “Want to do it tonight?” For some reason, I really want to watch this happen. Ryan's eyebrows rise, so I add. “I would like to go with you. We're already here together, so why not?”

  “I usually set up an appointment, but if you really want to go with, then let's go.” Ryan grins.

  We lock up the house, and Ryan drives to the tattoo parlor she likes downtown. She holds my hand as we walk inside, the sound of the needles buzzing immediately making me queasy. The guy behind the desk grins at her, and his stupid eyes rake over her body.

  “Ryan! It's good to see you again.” He glances at our hands, but ignores me. “We weren't expecting you, but I'm happy you're here. Which part of your body will we be privileged to see tonight?”

  She laughs. “My side. Where's Max?” Ryan turns to me to let me know who she's talking about. “I didn't get my tats until I moved here for school, and Max has done them all.”

  I nod, and the guy tells her, “He's not in tonight unfortunately. All our other artists are busy. You can wait for one of them or I could do it. I'm only filling in here until Sally finishes smoking her cigarette.”

  Please say you'll wait, I think. It didn't occur to me that someone else would be touching her, especially not this guy who would love to do it.

  “I don't know,” she says, but there's a playful tone in her voice. “I love Max's work the best. However, this is a simple tat, so I guess you can do it. It was a last minute decision to do this tonight. Can I borrow the computer to show you what I want?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Ryan leaves my side to walk behind the desk, next to him. She doesn't seem to pay him any attention as he looks over her once more. Which is why I'm completely surprised when she says, “If you expect to tattoo me, quit looking at me like that.” Without taking her eyes off the computer, she tilts her head towards me and adds, “I don't appreciate it, and I doubt he does either.”

  He looks over at me. “And who is he? You've never come here with a guy before.” His entire attitude has changed now that Ryan has forced him to be aware of my presence. Thankfully, he's stopped looking at her like he wants to fuck her.

  “That is Gabe, and he's a cop. Future warning, Pete, if he ever pulls you over, don't be a smart ass.”

  He laughs, and I smile at her comment. “I told you that mouth of yours would get you in trouble,” he says. “That's what you want?” He adds, apparently seeing the tattoo on the screen.

  “Yes, and I want it right here.” Ryan lifts her shirt on her left side and points to a spot just a little b
it away from the side of her breast, but down a little to sit more on her ribcage. She's going to have to unhook her bra, so it won't get in the way. Great.

  “All right. Have a seat, and I'll draw up a copy. Do you want it exactly like that? Black too?”

  “No,” Ryan tilts her head at the screen. “I want red instead.”

  “Okay.”

  Ryan walks back around, takes my hand, and we sit down on a couch as we wait for him to do his job. “Sorry about that,” she says softly. “He's a huge flirt, and I've always flirted back.”

  “It's fine. What are you getting?”

  “A heart. I fell in love with how it looked,” is her only explanation.

  Before I can question her further, a girl comes from the back, plopping into the seat that Pete vacated. The hum of the needles is threatening to make me sick, and I don't understand how just the sound doesn't bother her. Pete returns and calls us back. We pass a burly, shirtless man, who is getting work on his arm, a woman in her thirties getting something on her foot, and another girl getting someone on her lower back. Pete leads us to the very back. I watch and listen as Pete tells Ryan to lay down on the table and lift her shirt. He tells me where I can sit, so I take a seat.

  “Been doing good, Ryan?” he asks as he unhooks her bra, making sure that won't be in his way. I hate that his hands are on her at all. Ryan takes her arm out of her sleeve and that side of her bra before lifting her left arm over her shoulder while the other holds her shirt in place. A small swell of the side of her breast can still be seen though. Then Pete applies a piece of paper with the outline of the heart on it.

  “Better than ever.” She smiles at me, and I return it. “Is everything good with Max? I don't think I've ever known him not to be here on a Friday night.”

  “He's been sick all week, and we sure as hell don't want him here like that. I'll make sure he knows that he missed you though.”

  “Thanks. This will be my last one for a while, I think.”

  “Why is that? You've let Max work on you three times. I think I deserve two more times to make us even. He did a good job, especially on this seahorse.” Pete runs his fingers over it, looking just like I'm sure I did when I did the same thing. “Why the hell did you get a big ass, pink seahorse anyway?”

  “And this is why I love Max. He doesn't ask questions. Are we ready to get started or what?” Ryan rolls her eyes, and I laugh.

  “Are you ready?” He asks her.

  “Yep.”

  My eyes focus completely on where he's working. But after he does one line, I have to look away, finding Ryan's face a picture of perfection.

  “You okay, Gabe?” She questions.

  I shift in my seat. “Yeah, but now I know why I never wanted a tattoo. The sound for one and then to see it happen?” I shake my head, resisting the urge to shudder.

  Ryan grins, and she's dying to laugh. “Glad to know it's not because you are a goody-two shoes who is scared of his-”

  “Don't even say it, Ryan.”

  “Fine. I won't. But you have to admit that it's hilarious that a measly tattoo scares the big bad cop.”

  Leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees, I tell her in a low voice, “Thanks for finding me so hilarious all the time.”

  Ryan's smile widens, obviously thinking of the handcuffs incident. “You're welcome.”

  * * *

  The easy, laid back banter between us continues throughout the weekend. I love her new tattoo so much too. The red ink sticks out against her skin when she's naked and her arm moves. I love catching sight of it. Like right now as she reaches over to grab the remote from my end table, turning off the TV. She lies back down and pulls the comforter up to cover her breasts, careful not to let it touch under her arm where the tattoo is because of the cream she has to keep on it. I love spending Sundays with her. Especially when our day starts with a little bit of morning sex.

  “How is this Thanksgiving ordeal going to work?” She asks, and I can hear a bit of worry hidden in her words.

  “We usually get together around noon, eat around one or two, and hang out all day. You can stay with me Wednesday night or I can pick you up from your place Thursday. And you are more than welcome to stay with me Thursday night. I have to go in Friday evening, though.”

  “Viv and I are going shopping Friday, so I'll just go home afterwards. She's supposed to come over and stay with me that night. Are you nervous about this at all?” She turns her head to look at me.

  “No. Not one bit and you shouldn't be either.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Ryan

  All week, when I'm not in school, I'm vigorously cleaning my apartment. Gabe might not be worried, might not think I should be, but I am. And I hate it. Gabe and my feelings for him have me feeling vulnerable. Not to mention my new tattoo.

  Love.

  Love, love, love, love, love, love, love.

  That's all I've been able to think about. A new four letter word that takes up too much of my thinking. When I saw the heart online, I craved it. That little tat seemed just as mesmerizing as my favorite paintings. I needed it on my body. I needed the perfect, pretty heart tattoo on my side near my own, not so pretty, not so perfect heart.

  My nervous, scared to death heart.

  I have no idea what's going to happen if his parents don't accept me. Will Gabe stand up for me again or will he succumb to his family? I may mean something to Gabe, and I say it that way for a reason, but if he has to choose between them or me, he would choose them.

  Right?

  That is his family, who he loves and cares about more than anything. Surely, he wouldn't risk his relationship with them just for a relationship with me. To avoid thinking about this all the time as Thursday loomed closer and closer, I've been cleaning like crazy. This place is spotless. Every inch of it. But the day is here. I can't clean anymore. A knock sounds at my door, and I go to answer it. I couldn't even manage to run late like usual. I'm too nervous.

  Gabe stands on the other side with a big smile. At least someone is excited about this. I'm not excited, but my nerves disappear at seeing him. Instead, they are replaced with determination. I will do my best to make them like me. I want this so badly. Being in love with Gabe without him knowing is hard enough. I don't need his parents to reject me and make this harder.

  “You're ready?” He says with surprise, stepping forward to kiss me sweetly.

  “Crazy, I know.”

  “Well, let's get this show on the road.” Gabe holds out his elbow, and I loop my arm through his. On the ride over, Gabe tells me about work and how he and his partner are working well together. He's in the middle of a sentence when we pull up to a house, the driveway and curb full of parked cars, when I interrupt him.

  “You are not allowed to leave me alone with anyone other than Gramps or Owen, okay?”

  He smiles. “I don't plan on leaving your side, Ryan. It'll be great and fun.”

  I nod because that is the plan. We get out of his car and head inside. The men are gathered in the living room, and I can hear the bustling of the women in the kitchen. Gramps seems to be the only one missing from the men.

  “Hey y'all,” Gabe says as we walk further into the house. Heads swivel to look at us and voices all tell us hello. There is only one guy I haven't met. “I'm sure y'all remember Ryan.”

  “With an aim like that, how could we forget her?” Gabe's cousin, Frank Jr., smiles.

  “It's nice to see you guys again,” I tell them honestly, noticing that Gabe's father actually smiles at me. What changed his mind about me?

  Gabe leads me over to the guy I haven't met yet, and he stands. “Keith, this is Ryan Kavanaugh. Ryan, this is my older brother, Keith.”

  Keith shakes my hand with a friendly smile. He definitely fits my image of an FBI agent with the exception of his casual clothes. “Nice to meet you, Ryan.”

  “It's about time you got here, darlin',” I hear behind me before I can respond to Keith. I turn at the sou
nd of Gramps' voice. He comes over and gives me a bear hug. “We're thrilled that you could join us.”

  I can't help but smile. “Thanks for having me.”

  “You can come sit with me,” Owen says from the couch.

  I turn to Gabe, and he smiles in reassurance. “I'm going to say hey to the girls and then I'll be back, if you want to stay in here.”

  I nod, moving over to sit with Owen. It's better to be in here than with the women. On one side is Owen, and Gramps takes the spot on the other side of me. Gabe's father, Larry, starts talking with Keith about football and then all the men are talking about it. I listen, paying attention to what they say, in case I can learn something new about the sport. Gabe returns to the room, but I have no idea where he's going to sit. He walks in front of Gramps and motions with his hand for me to stand.

  Oh, no. Please tell me he isn't going to have me sit in his lap. He's trying to get his parents to hate me even more! Sure enough, Gabe takes my seat before tugging me down, joining in the conversation as if I'm not in his lap. Larry doesn't seem fazed by it, so that's good. But I feel awkward sitting here in a room full of men. Gabe grabs my hips and squeezes lightly as he talks.

  “Keith, are you staying for the weekend? Are we still going shooting?” he asks, redirecting his question to everyone else. They all nod and murmur confirmation.

  “Darlin', are you going to join us?” Gramps asks me.

  “Oh, I already intruded on y'alls men's day once. I-”

  “Nonsense. You have to come. Keith needs to see what you can do,” he interrupts.

  “Yeah,” Keith chirps. “All I've heard about is how you showed up Dad after only shooting for an hour.”

  Great. I glance at Larry, and I'm shocked when he grins at me. “I'll admit that I wasn't so sure about you that day, but you earned my respect regardless. I could easily see why Gabe would give you a ticket after you asked for it. How exactly did that happen?”