by Amanda Cain
As the sun filtered into my bedroom, I sat up and opened my eyes to find Sierra lying next to me but Ryan nowhere in sight. For a minute, I couldn't breathe. Had he gotten up and left while I was sleeping? No! It can't be over. I'm not naïve. I understood this was supposed to be a one-night stand, but after last night that was a reality I was no longer willing to face.
I lay back down, burying myself under the covers willing myself not to cry. Damn, I'm an idiot!
A few minutes later, I heard a loud bang as the front door shut. Sierra jumped off the bed when Ryan walked into the room. I let out a deep breath and peeked out from under the sheets. My exuberance at seeing him was hard to hide.
"Morning. Would you like some coffee?” he asked. "I saw a place down the road when we drove in last night, so I got us some coffee and muffins."
"Sure." I pulled the sheet around me as I got out of bed.
"After last night, you're going to act all shy on me? Drop the sheet."
I blushed and let go of the sheet.
"I need to be in you. Now. I'll make it up to you later," he said, wrapping his arms around me.
All I heard was later. There was going to be a later! The little girl inside my head began jumping up and down, clapping and shouting, “Yay!”
Ryan was out of his clothes in seconds. He was already hard. Brushing my lips with his, he pushed me onto the bed and entered me with an urgency. Being both the recipient and the cause of his erection excited and comforted me.
Thrusting hard, his eyes locked with mine. I was lost in a forest of emerald green that reflected a longing screaming of desire, need, and loneliness. His kiss was hungry but tender. I wondered if he was caught up in the same volcanic mix of conflicted emotions and passion that I was.
"Now, Em,” he said. “Come now!"
We came together. Afterward, Ryan lay inside me, breathing heavy, stroking my hair, never taking his eyes off me.
"Damn, Emma, what you do to me …" He shook his head. What I do to him? Every nerve in my body was tingling. I smiled and touched his face. I don't think I've ever felt so fulfilled and happy.
What I said aloud was, "Shower. I need a shower."
"I would join you, but I'm not sure either one of us could handle it right now," he said, laughing.
The warm water pulsating against my skin soothed me into a complacency that I knew wasn't real. Where was this going? Will he want to see me again? What if he doesn't?
As I dried off, I felt anxiety and tension growing. The man waiting somewhere outside my bathroom door—hopefully—currently held the power in this relationship … or whatever this was. Not a feeling I was comfortable with.
I walked into the kitchen wearing my robe. Ryan sat at the table looking at his phone, his face distraught.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Nothing …" He shook his head, avoiding my eyes. "How do you like your coffee?"
"No problem, I'll fix it." I grabbed the Styrofoam cup and added cream and sugar and sat at the table wondering what happens next.
He stared at me for a minute before saying anything. "You're are so beautiful, and this was so amazing."
Fuck, here it comes. I was trying not to tear up and act like some silly girl.
"Em, I have to leave sooner than I planned. Can I call you?"
I felt my expression grow defensive. "From where? Where is it you're going and where will you be when you call me?"
"I'll be in Chicago."
"Not Colorado Springs?"
"No, I have an emergency in Chicago, but I promise I will call you."
"Yeah, sure, of course, I understand." Still acting defensively and much less cavalier than I had hoped. I got up and prepared Sierra's food and set her dish down. "I'll need to take Sierra for her morning run in a few minutes."
This morning, when we made love—no, fucked—I thought we had a connection beyond chemistry. I was wrong. I guess all he wanted was one more roll in the hay before he exited out of my life.
Ryan picked up his keys and put his phone in his pocket. "Thanks, babe. I'm sorry, really. I’ll call you." He kissed me on the forehead then left.
He kissed me on my fucking forehead! He couldn't even give me a real kiss goodbye! I knew I'd never see him again. Hell, I still didn't know his last name!
Chapter 5
Emma
I called Sierra to the back door and put her leash on. The High Line Canal, a running/biking trail, ran behind my house, and I usually took Sierra for a run every morning.
"Why didn't you warn me?" I asked her. She looked at me quizzically, tilted her head to one side, and barked. "Sorry, girl, not your fault." I bent down and hugged her.
We walked from my backyard to the trail. I started running as fast as I could, trying to remove thoughts of Ryan from my head. After twenty minutes, I slowed it down to a jog—much to Sierra's dismay. She was loving the fast pace.
Why am I acting like such a child? I knew what I was doing. I made the conscious decision to sleep with him, so I need to grab what's left of my dignity and get over it, right?
Despite my pep talks to myself, my mind raced with thoughts of Ryan and our time together. I kept going over every detail. Every wonderful, sensual, mind-blowing detail. The whole experience was better than any fantasy I could have made up. Did he not feel the same chemistry and connection that I did? How could he walk away from that?
Stop it! I scolded myself. He's gone.
Our one night of lust was over as quickly as it started. The connection I thought I felt between us was just sexual, not real.
Fuck! That was probably his wife texting him, wondering where he was. Oh my God, I didn't even ask him if he was married! Not that he would have told me the truth, but still …
My usual mode of operation would be to call Char and talk through this. I knew she was worried and that I should call her, but I wasn’t ready to try to explain my actions. If I had known for sure it was only going to be for one night, and how much it would hurt when he left, would I still have slept with him? I hated that my answer was yes; my attraction was that strong. I just needed to forget about it and move on.
"Sierra, we better head back." We ran at a much slower pace on the way back.
Once home, I plopped in the chair. The phone rang, and I froze. Could it be him? It was Mom. She was at a balloon festival in New Mexico. Right now, I envied her. I tried to sound cheerful but cut the call short. Mom had an uncanny ability to read my moods. Explaining to my mother that I was depressed because I had unforgettable sex with a man I barely knew and would never see again would just be too exhausting.
I did some weight training and tackled some code. I hoped it would help to keep my mind busy. Nothing kept me from drifting back to thinking about Ryan. I could still feel the rough edges of his hands as his gentle fingers stroked the soft skin between my thighs and the weight of his body on top of me.
Fuck it. I drank a glass of wine and went to bed. It would get better. In time, he would just be a memory.
***
At work on Monday, Char started in immediately as I knew she would. "Well, spill. What happened? What's going on with the mystery man?"
"Not much to tell. We had a good time together, and now he's gone. End of story."
"Did you make any future plans?"
I rolled my eyes and attempted to change the subject. "Hey, I found the coding error on the new project we've been working on."
Char waved her finger at me. "This conversation is not over. Want to grab a bite after work?"
"Sure, but I can't be long. Randy is helping John out at their restaurant tonight. I’ll have to be home in time to walk Sierra."
Seconds after ordering our first drink, Char began asking questions. I knew she was concerned and was being a good friend. I would have done the same thing, but that still didn't make it any easier to discuss.
"What's going on, Emma? You usually get a guy's life story within the first ten minutes. With this guy, you ask no questions
? Did you at least get his last name?"
"No, I didn't. I know it's crazy, Char, but he's gone now. Can we move on?"
"Not when I watch you walk around trying to act like everything is all good when it so isn't. Oh my God, did he hurt you? Did he turn out to be some sort of psycho?"
Hurt me? Not physically, well maybe a little, I was having a difficult time walking today. I laughed out loud without realizing it.
"What are you laughing at?" Char frowned.
"I'm fine. He did not hurt me, and he is not a psycho. Yes, we slept together, and it was … well … amazing. Now he’s gone, and there is nothing else to talk about."
"You had sex? Ryan's hot, but damn, Emma! Since when do you fuck a man on the first night, especially when you know absolutely nothing about him?"
I sneered at my longtime friend, wishing she would just shut up. "I know. I broke all the rules. Can't we let it go now?"
She looked at me. "Oh my God, you have feelings for him!"
"No, I don't. At least not the type of feelings you're talking about. We just met! Sure, I would like to get to know him, but he lives in Chicago, so that's that."
"I saw the way his eyes followed you around on Saturday. You will hear from him again. And when you do, you better ask the asshole his last name!"
"Let it go, please?"
She knew I was hurting. Narrowing her eyes at me, she asked, "So what did you think of Bob's friend Brandon?”
I was grateful she changed the subject, but I wish she would quit worrying about my love life. "I'm sure he is a good guy, but Michael and I just ended a couple months ago. I'm not looking for anything right now."
Charlotte rolled her eyes in sarcastic exasperation and gave up for now.
We spent the next half hour with our heads in our laptops talking about some SQL queries we had been building at work. We both loved programming and could get lost in it pretty easily.
I got home before dark and went for a quick run with Sierra, ate a bowl of cereal for dinner, and got ready for bed. All day, I had been going through the motions, doing what was necessary, but I felt empty, numb, and tired.
The video of my night with Ryan was still playing in my head, making it difficult for me to sleep. I needed to pull my head out of my ass and find something more constructive to do!
Char was right. If I had gotten his last name, I could at least Google him. A Google search might have come up empty or maybe he was an ex-con or more likely I'd find him on Facebook with pictures of his wife, kids, and the family dog. I felt nauseated. I couldn’t believe I didn't ask him anything.
I was beating myself up, but there was still a part of me that believed he was a good guy. There was just something else going on but what I couldn't imagine. Wishful thinking on my part.
At work the next day, Charlotte brought me a much needed cup of coffee. "You look like hell," she said.
"Thanks. Remind me to call you whenever I need a boost of self-confidence."
"Whoa, girl, I'm just stating the obvious." Char held her hands up in mock surrender.
"Sorry, couldn't sleep last night. Not sure I even got ten minutes." I rubbed my eyes, which were sans makeup.
"Ryan?"
"Not everything is about a man," I snapped. Of course it was Ryan related. No amount of diversions could get his voice or any other part of him out of my head.
I remembered Charlotte's silly little poster about loving someone who was toxic for you. Well, this may not be love, but it was toxic.
Chapter 6
Ryan
When I got the text, I was so fucking upset. By the time I parked at the airport and got on the plane, I was so worried I was shaking.
When I got to the house, it was unlocked. "Lindsey!" I shouted. "Dammit, Lindsey, what hospital is she at?"
There was a note on the table with the hospital's name and address. When I walked into Melissa’s hospital room, I wanted to hit something. Melissa was asleep, her face bruised and swollen.
I should've been here. I felt angry and guilty. She needed me, and I wasn't fucking here.
Lindsey walked into the room. "The doctor said she will be fine."
"Thank God. What happened?"
"She was in a car with some friends. The driver had been drinking and ran into a ditch."
"Drinking? What was my fourteen-year-old daughter doing in a car with someone who was drinking? Was Melissa drinking? Where the hell were you?" I was fuming.
I gripped Lindsey’s arm and dragged her to the hallway. I didn’t want Melissa to hear us.
"I was out. When I left the house, Melissa was home and was supposed to stay home."
"Lindsey, she’s fourteen. A good kid, but fourteen. Teenagers are not known for doing exactly as their told. She needs her mother to be home with her! My voice was rising, and people were starting to turn and look at us. “Think about what could have happened! We’ll discuss this later.” I gritted my teeth to keep from yelling. “I’m going to sit with Melissa. I want to be there when she wakes up.” I walked back into Melissa’s room.
I stayed at the hospital every night. They had Melissa on some strong pain meds, and she slept most of the time. Lindsey hadn’t been back. What kind of mother doesn’t visit her daughter in the hospital? I tried calling her, but she wouldn't pick up. I got that she didn’t want to be around me, but fuck … she was Melissa’s mom. She should be able to put her hatred of me aside for our daughter's sake.
I tried to read while Melissa was asleep, but I couldn't concentrate. Images of Emma pressed against my brain. I closed my eyes and could feel her soft skin as my hand traveled down her side and followed the curvature of her small waist and incredible hips. From the moment she walked into the Dusty Boot, I knew going to Denver had been a bad idea.
I thought she was hot when I first saw her. Later, I couldn't believe it when she walked into the bar. I watched her for a while, sitting on the barstool by herself. Just looking at her made my dick stand at attention. So cute and sexy with her hourglass figure and luscious curves all packed in a tight, toned little body. How could I resist? I had been drawn to her earlier just listening to her laugh. She had a deep infectious laugh that sounded spontaneous, real, and full of life. There was something different about her.
I hadn’t really planned to hook up. I was on my way to Colorado Springs, but visions of Emma popped in and out of my head as I drove. When I saw the sign for Denver, my truck just seemed to head for the exit. I also hadn’t planned on enjoying her company quite so much.
Running into Bob and him being Emma's friend's fiancé made the lying even worse.
"This is so fucked-up," I said out loud, not meaning to.
"What's fucked-up?" My daughter woke up.
"Currently, your face." I smirked. "Be a lady and watch you language."
She threw Pooka, a stuffed panda that she had been holding in her arms, at me. I gave her Pooka when she was eight, and she still slept with it.
"Seriously, kiddo. We need to talk about what happened."
"I know. Can it wait until we go home? When do I get to leave?"
"Doctor says today. He wants to run an MRI, then we are out of here. You understand how lucky you are, young lady?"
"I do, Daddy. How's Mom?" she asked, wiping tears from the rims of her eyes.
"Fine, concerned about you."
"Yeah, then where has she been?" she asked, twisting a piece of her long wavy brown hair around her finger. My heart broke. Melissa’s deep green eyes mirrored my own. She was so much like me.
"She just doesn't like to be around me." As I said the excuse, I knew it was lame. Lindsey should have been here.
“It’s okay. Mom and I will spend time together when I get home. I’m glad you’re here.”
Melissa's doctor signed the release, and we left the hospital that afternoon. Lindsey’s car was not in the driveway. I went inside with my daughter and waited.
“Okay, Melissa, time to talk. What were you thinking getting in a car wi
th someone who was drinking? Who was this boy?”
“I swear, Daddy, I didn’t know Bobby had been drinking when I got in the car. Bobby is Tina’s brother. Tina is a friend from school. We were just getting a ride home from the movies.”
“Were you supposed to be at the movies?”
Melissa's eyes started watering. “No, but it isn't fair! Mom's never here …"
"What are you saying? She's never home?" My anger was beginning to show.
"I didn't mean that. I was wrong for going out without permission. I'm sorry, Dad."
I pressed for details. "Is your mom leaving you alone a lot? Is she seeing someone?" She began twirling her hair. "No, everything is fine."
"Honey, if there is a problem you need to let me know."
"I know, Dad, but there isn't."
I tried to keep my anger and dislike for her mother in check, a task Lindsey made harder than shit. I let it go and tucked my daughter into bed while I waited for Lindsey to get home. Lindsey walked through the front door with a scowl on her face. It was going to be a long night.
"Why are you still here?" she growled.
"Because you weren’t,” I snapped. “What's going on? You never came back to the hospital or answered my calls. Your daughter was in an accident and you don't visit her?"
"You were there," she retorted. "I'm here now, so you can leave!"
I should have left, but I didn't. I wasted the next few hours arguing with Lindsey, who, as usual, hurled my past back at me, making me feel like crap.
“You act like you’re such a great father … You left me alone, you were gone every weekend …” she snapped.
“Holy shit, not this again. I made a fucking mistake. I was there for Melissa before that and ever since. Can you say the same? Have you ever been there for her or me?
“You left me the day after we said I do.” I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. “Seriously, Lindsey, who took care of Melissa when she was a baby?”