by Anthology
“She was protecting you,” Jonathon says bluntly. “She knew you would worry. That’s the only reason she didn’t tell you.”
“Yeah, that’s what she said.”
But does he really believe it? It really is the truth. By not being honest though, I’ve brought the very thing into our relationship I wanted to keep out. Doubt. I try to change the tone of the conversation. “I am in the room, guys,” I say. “You two talk as if I’m not here.”
Ryan comes to my side and slips his arm around me, his hand on my hip. He turns me in the circle of his arm until I’m facing him. “You haven’t seen that guy again since the attack, right? You haven’t received any more threats, emails, pictures?” He looks at me uncertainly.
Oh God, he’s realizing he can’t trust me. “No, I haven’t. It’s the truth. I would tell you now, Ryan.” But is it too late. Now he knows I haven’t always been honest with him. Will that drive a wedge between us? Make him wonder what else I’ve hidden from him?
“I don’t feel comfortable leaving you when this guy is still out there.”
“Ryan, you have to go back to school,” I protest.
“I intend to watch over her until the police get this guy,” Jonathon says, breaking in before we can start arguing. “But this is a party and Mia needs to relax and put this behind her.”
“Yeah.” Ryan’s tone is gruff. “That’s true.”
I press my cheek to Ryan’s chest and hug him. “I’m going to be careful, Ryan, I promise.”
“Feeling better, Mia?” Jonathon asks me gently.
“Yes. I’m okay.” I look up at Ryan. “Do you want to dance?”
“Bedrooms are available,” Jonathon says cheekily.
I think it would be weird to use one of his bedrooms. “Not now,” I say. As we walk out the door I whisper to Ryan, “Unless you want to go to a room? I thought it would be fun to dance. Later we could go to your motel…” My voice dies away and I blush.
Ryan smiles, lashes falling shyly over his eyes. “That would be perfect.”
We leave Jonathon. As we make our way through the crowd, I grab Ryan’s arm and drag him into a corner. “Jonathon is a friend, that’s all. I met him because he was dating Lara, but they broke up.”
There’s a long pause. I start to feel nervous. They shook hands. I prayed things were okay.
Finally Ryan says, “I owe that guy a hell of a lot for saving you. But he wants to be more than a friend. The way he looked at you in there...I know what that look means, Mia. It’s the way I look at you.”
Oh God. I had no idea a guy would see that so easily. But I guess I could tell right away what girls were thinking when they looked at Ryan. “We’ve just been friends. We get coffee and I complain about classes to him. Originally I met him for a coffee because I wanted to get him and Lara back together. If he wants me, it’s—it’s for completely different reasons than you.”
He looks totally confused, which makes sense. I realize I can’t explain Jonathon wants a partner in the BDSM lifestyle. “He’s not looking for more than sex. And I’m not into him. I care about you.”
Ryan frowns. “But you need someone to talk to. Someone to hold you when you need to cry. Someone to be there to keep you safe. Mia, we all should have someone close to do that.” He hesitates. “I mean someone who is living close to you, who can be there for you.”
“I know we can’t live close to each other right now, Ryan. But I’m not looking for anyone else.”
“That guy…Jonathon…he cares about you and he’s someone you can confide in. That has to mean you care about him too. And he’s rich, so he can take care of you down the road. He can give you the things you deserve.”
“But I’m in love with you. I want to build a life with you.” I never wanted to say that kind of stuff in case it scared Ryan away.
Now I know I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t say it before I lost him.
“Are you sure about that, Mia?”
“God, of course I am. Look, let’s get out of here. I don’t want to stay. Can we go to your motel room?”
He agrees.
We came up on Ryan’s bike—he’d brought an extra helmet for me, a small one he bought for me in Milltown so I could ride on the back. The first time I rode with him was when we first started dating. I was terrified. I was scared I would put my foot on the exhaust and burn it. Or let my grip get too slack and fall off. When he cornered, I thought I was going to die of fright. I used to hug him so tight I’m amazed he could breathe. But I quickly learned Ryan is an excellent rider and I was totally safe in his hands.
I wrap my arms around his narrow waist, holding him snugly. Now I know how to let my body move with his as he drives the bike around the sweeping curves of the road. Riding behind him, I love the way he rides the bike so confidently. Plus it is uber sexy to see him sitting astride his bike.
By the time we reach the motel, I’m trembling with desire. But we are acting awkward with each other. I want to push him into his room, knock him back to the bed, and tear his clothes off. But I feel too uncertain to do it. He takes out his key, and holds the door for me to go inside. It’s a basic motel room, with a double bed.
We stand, just looking at each other. Until I get so nervous, I giggle like a kid, then start stripping.
Ryan pulls off his clothes, comes to me. We kiss, standing naked in the middle of the room.
“It’s cold.” I shiver.
“Do you want to get under the covers?”
I nod. We slip into bed. After the wild and wicked ways we made love on the weekend, it’s as if everything has changed. I lie down, spreading my legs, wondering if I should do something kinkier to excite him. Yeah, and that might be the worst thing I could do.
But when he gets on top, slides his condom on, and slides deep into me, I’m glad we’re making love like this. Like this, I can kiss him and look at him. I want it to be fantastic, and I make a lot of noise. I stroke his back all over, fondle his ass, wrap my legs around his hips, even scratch his back to try to make it look like I’ve had a killer orgasm. I slide my fingers between us, stroke myself, and have a screaming orgasm for real.
I’m lying there, feeling like I’ve just had the most amazing experience in the world.
Hoping to give him something earth-shattering too.
But Ryan doesn’t come. He thrusts and thrusts, until sweat drips from him and spatters on me. I’m starting to get sore. My legs ache from having made love so many times. I’m wishing he would just explode and we could stop. I try really rocking under him, I try faking an intense climax, but nothing gets him there.
He pulls out. “I’m sorry, Mia. I guess I’m just tired.” He flops onto the bed beside me.
I’m lying there, scared witless. How can a nineteen-year-old guy not come? He has to be really not into it. Or stressed. Or maybe he is just really tired, since we did make love a lot of times over the weekend.
I roll on my side and snuggle beside him. He slips his arm around me and strokes me.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
“No. I’m sorry. Was it okay for you?”
“Oh yes. Definitely yes. It was stupendous.”
He laughs gently at that. But I still worry.
We cuddle in his bed. Headlights from cars go past outside, since we’re close to the highway. Eventually Ryan drifts off to sleep, but I lie awake for a long time.
Have I lost him? The crazy thing is: I’m not exactly sure.
But the next morning, when I urge him to head back to school, he refuses to go.
***
On Tuesday, I’m in the wood-working shop at school. I have to build a model for my major studio project, due before Thanksgiving. I’ve got my drawings done, and I’m ready to go, but I’ve been stalling. This one requires some of the heavier machinery in the wood shop, such as the big band saw. I’m also going to need to use the milling machine in the metal shop, which I’ve never used before.
I can’t procrastinate
any longer and I gather up my materials—some wood and a chunk of aluminum—which I’ve stored in my cubby in studio. It was tough enough to figure out which would be the best type of wood to work with. I was warned that maple was too hard, and oak too grainy. I’ve gone with basswood, which is really soft and can be sanded to a mirror smooth finish.
I have to gather up the courage to use the equipment.
But I’m so afraid I’m going to screw up and cut off a finger that I’m sick inside and my hands are shaking—
“Mia.”
The husky voice wraps around me. I was certain Ryan was going to go back to school today. Not because I told him to go back and insisted I would help him through his upcoming midterms, but because I’d lost him. I didn’t see him all day yesterday, even at night. I went by his motel room, but he wasn’t there, so I gave up and came back to studio.
Now he’s here.
I smile so wide it hurts. I’m so filled with happiness my heart aches. What are you doing here? I thought you were leaving. I don’t say any of those things. I run over to him and hug him.
His big, strong arms come around me. I snuggle against his plaid shirt, my cheek pressed tight to hear his heartbeat. It races like mine is doing.
I pull back and we talk at the same time.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I met that guy and freaked out, thinking you must be falling for him. I’m sorry I didn’t see you yesterday.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I never meant to keep things from you. I really just didn’t want you to worry about me.”
We both stop at the same time. I rush on, “It’s not because I didn’t want to talk to you, because I did. But I know you have so much to worry about with school and your dad, and I didn’t want to burden you with my problems.”
“You’re not a burden. I love you. Now I probably have lost you because I was acting like an ass.”
“No, you haven’t lost me. I was afraid I was losing you.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Never.”
I sigh and fall against him.
Hugging me, he notices the wood and metal sitting on my desk. I explain about my project. “I have to go into the wood shop and build some stuff. I really don’t want to go.”
“Why not?”
I feel like a coward but I admit, “I’m scared of the equipment. I have to cut some shapes on the band saw. I don’t know if I have to use the big one—it terrifies me. As for the table saw, I don’t even want to stand near it when it’s turned on.”
I describe the equipment in the metal-working shop, and tell him how I don’t feel prepared to use stuff. “The shop techs are really helpful, but they don’t build stuff for you, and I’m scared I’ll do something stupid just because I don’t realize it is stupid.”
Ryan nods. “I almost had a couple of accidents in the garage because I didn’t know any better. Do you mind if I go with you? I’ve used a lot of those tools and I can show you how they work and how to be safe around them. I might be able to give you more tips than the shop techs did. I can help, if that’s allowed.”
My heart does a wild dance. “Would you? I think it is okay to get help.”
I lead him to the shops and introduce him to the technicians. I can tell they take a liking to Ryan at once, because he’s polite and also obviously knows how to use tools. They give him a spare set of shop glasses, which shows how impressed they are by him. No student would be able to wrangle free glasses.
I roll out my drawings on one of the scarred wooden work tables and show Ryan what I need to do. He shows me how to use the band saws, including the big one that scares me. He shows me how to use fences for guiding material through the blade. He explains how to use even the tools I don’t need to use yet, so I’m familiar with them. Under his guidance, I rip a board on the table saw, after he explains how to ensure the correct blade is in, how to set up the saw, how to run the wood through safely.
By late afternoon, I’m working on the milling machine. I’m careful and cautious, but I feel comfortable and no longer terrified.
“You saved my life today,” I tell Ryan. “I couldn’t face doing any of that and you got me through.”
“I talked to your friend, Jonathon, last night.”
My heart stutters. So that was where he was. What happened between them?
“He told me this guy wore a mask, so you didn’t even see what he looks like. They have no idea who he is.”
“Not yet.”
He looks brooding.
“You have to go back to school, Ryan. You can’t stay just to protect me.”
“I talked to Jonathon and he promised me he would take care of you.”
My eyes go wide. “But—”
“Yeah, I’m asking my competition to spend time with you. But I have to know you’re going to be protected, Mia.”
“He is not your competition. You have no competition. No one could dream of competing with you.”
“I’d like to teach you some skills to take care of yourself.”
I know he could. Ryan used to do maintenance work and cleaning around the MMA club in Milltown in return for some training from the owner, Danny Lane, and time in the ring.
“Are you kidding? I’m small and kind of skinny—at least right now.”
“You don’t have to be large for these moves. You use your opponent’s size against him. I learned these from Danny’s girlfriend, who was an Olympian in Judo. She’s tinier than you. Tomorrow we’ll work on some moves.”
I know I’m being selfish by keeping him here, but I want to learn these skills. And I suspect that if I let him do this, I’ll be able to convince him to go back to college.
I’ll make it up to him by ensuring he gets through his term.
***
I get to use the college gym facilities as a student and Ryan pays to get in. For two days, he teaches me judo throws, how to fend off an attack from behind, even how to deal with a knife attack. At the end of it, I actually throw him to the mat. I assume he let me do it. But he grins up at me, and insists I did that all by myself.
“Thank you,” I tell him. Would I really have the courage to try to throw my attacker? But if I’m grabbed again, if it’s life or death again, of course I would fight as hard and as desperately as I could. Thanks to Ryan, I might actually have a chance to save myself.
He jumps up from the mat by springing directly onto his feet. It’s a move I’ve only seen gymnasts make. His strength amazes me.
I adore his strong body and his gorgeous face but it’s his strength of character that makes me melt into a puddle of desire and love.
“You are amazing,” he tells me. “You picked that up really fast. My roommate tells me I’m the luckiest guy in the world to have a girlfriend who is pretty, smart, and…and sexy, too. You’re also really strong, Mia.”
That is the most beautiful thing anyone has said to me. I want to think of something funny to say, because this moment is so intense I want to cry, but I can’t. Still, I have to face him seriously. “You’ve helped me in the shops and now you’ve taught me how to save my life. But you really, really, really need to go back to school.” I put my hand on the bulge of his biceps. “I’ll never forgive myself if you flunk out over me.”
“For you, Mia,” he says. “I’ll go.”
We walk back to my dorm, arm in arm. Sunlight splashes across the campus, but the air is cold with the promise of winter. I don’t notice the cold, warmed to the heart by being with Ryan.
We share a kiss that goes on and on. Dimly, I’m aware of people passing us, going in and out of the dorm. It’s as if we can stay locked in a kiss until Thanksgiving.
I draw away. “Thanksgiving is a couple more weeks. That’s all we have to wait.”
“I know. But when it’s so close, it’s going to be more painful.”
I giggle. “That’s true. But I’m going to call and text you a lot. I want to help you with your studying. You’ve saved my life, Ryan. I owe you a huge amount.
”
I realize he’s shown me how to face—and conquer—most of the things that scare me. How can I ever repay him for a gift like that?
“That’s what you do for someone you love,” he says softly.
We kiss again, and I know that if I don’t make it a quick one, I will never let him leave. But I guess he feels the same way. He draws back from the kiss and goes over to his bike. He had his helmet tucked under his arm and he puts it on. He attaches his carrier bag on the motorcycle.
Three more weeks, then we get four days together. I can survive. I have to.
As he drives away, disappearing around a bend in the road on his motorcycle, I feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I ignore it. I hope to have one more glimpse of Ryan. But I don’t.
I pull out my phone. Not to check the message, but to call up one of the pictures I took of Ryan when we were at the inn. In the photo, he’s just wearing his briefs and he’s smiling at me. Gazing at it, I put my hand to my mouth. And start to sob.
***
The morning after Ryan is gone, Jonathon comes by my studio. I’m so thrilled with the progress I made on the milling machine that I accept his invitation for coffee. I can actually take an hour off. I agree to meet him at the coffee shop in the University Center.
But when I sit down opposite Jonathon, cupping my extra-large ordinary coffee in my hands, he looks at me with a strange expression.
“Do I have paint on my face or something? Or sawdust in my hair?” I walked around the whole afternoon after Ryan left with chunks of wood in my hair. I didn’t notice until I was in my bathroom in the dorm, washing up for bed.
Jonathon looks down at his hands, then up at me. “I talked to Ryan.”
“I know. Before he left yesterday, he said he asked you to look after me, and you said you would.”
“Yeah. He’s a great guy, considering he thinks I’m his rival and he still gave me permission to stay close to you.”
“He’s trying to protect me.”
“I hate to do this to him because I respect him.”
“Do what?”
Jonathon looks at me and I lose my breath. The intensity of his gaze is dazzling. “Mia, I want you,” he says. “I’ve tried to keep our relationship as just friends, but I hoped you would change your mind and fall for me. Now that I’ve met Ryan, I understand that I have really stiff competition. I have to fight harder for you.”