Oh, damn! He's murder.
“I feel the same way. When you introduced yourself—”
“No, Nicky, you’re not hearing me." He leaned forward. "It wasn’t at our introduction that I noticed you. When you sat in the bleachers, even before your first performance, the kindness and love you carry, it radiates from your soul. To me, the entire area of the stadium lit up. My heart was on fire from the moment I spotted you. You. Are. Light.”
“I don't know what to say.” I'm exhausted.
“I don’t mean to make you stumble." His chest expanded in a deep breath. "I just want you to know how I see you.”
I reached for his hand.
“You’re a warm man." I stroked his fingers. "You deserve to have what you want in every way. You need that woman." I nodded in Tabitha's direction.
"I need you." His voice rose in volume.
"Do you know what the biggest obstacle is for me?” I looked down and then raised my eyes to his.
“Tell me, Nicky. Please don't hold back.”
“I'll bring you down while I try and find myself."
"No. How—"
"You'll constantly have to reassure me. It's not only women like Tabitha. She was only the boldest. Several have walked by giving you those come on eyes. They’re waiting for me to get up so they can sit down and take my place. You can try and reassure me all you want, but I know I'll face them every day we're together.”
“You don’t have to worry—”
“That's just one fear. I have about a thousand others. I can’t—scratch that, I won’t—handle the kind of intensity that follows you.” I reaffirmed my position. “You're a part of a special life, Ryan. You've achieved what few men do and this is your chance to have an incredibly sexy, gorgeous woman at your side. I don’t want to know someone is waiting for you the moment I make a mistake or have to look polished every second so your eye doesn’t wander. I’m tired of walking on eggshells and being afraid. I've done that enough with my family.”
“You're afraid of me?” He looked as if he were a little boy.
“No,” I rubbed his arm. “No, I’m not afraid of you at all. What I’m afraid of? It's not being able to be myself with you, saying the wrong thing, pissing you off because I don't have the maturity you do, and exhausting you with all my fears. One day, you'll leave on your road trip and drift away in frustration or anger. Trust me, when you really get to know my family and our dark secrets, you'll leave." I crossed my ankles under the table. “There’s a lot of crap that comes with me. For the man who wants to be my partner? I don't know how to make room for an intimate relationship.”
I wanted to stop but couldn’t.
My Evil Twin wasn't a silent being and she was pulling on me, perhaps giving me the courage to say what I had to . . . needed to.
“Being with you won’t help me get over any of the feelings I just revealed. Plus, the big killer or me is you leaving every week or so. That fact alone is deadly to someone like me." I could see he was struggling. "I’m sorry. I'm just trying to be honest. A man like you . . . you're too much for my first relationship. You have an aura and it's pure sex appeal. I've seen it and plenty of others see it. I mean, let's face it, I'm attracted to it."
"That's a bad thing?" he pushed.
“For most people, no, it's not. Maybe if I had some experience with sex, I might understand. I can't relate to why you’ve been with so many women," I continued. "There's tons of stuff online—much more than just baseball. I haven't even looked that deeply and I've found dozens of posts with you and Miss Somebody or Other."
A variety of emotions washed over his face.
Mere seconds passed between a look of what seemed like sadness, anger, frustration, and . . . hope?
“I’m tired of fighting,” I managed to say in a voice so raw it didn't sound like my own. “What I want is for someone to fight for me for a change.”
Another attractive female came to our table, obviously dressed for an evening out.
Her face lit up.
Her eyes were bright.
Her body was already opening to Ryan.
She started to speak.
Before she could, Ryan stood up.
"I'll be right back, sweetheart." His stare never wavered from me and our hands stayed connected longer than usual as if sending a message to the young woman—and to me.
Did he say that purposefully?
"How rude," she said disgustedly, standing at our table as if when he came back he'd give her his full attention. "You his girlfriend?"
I smiled, afraid to even speak, conscious of social medial and what she might post. I pulled out my phone and pretended to text someone. Go away. Maybe I'll get up and give her my seat. This is all too much and I know it.
A minute later the host came over to our table.
"Here she is." Ryan stood behind him. "Please don't let it happen again. I tipped you well so we'd be left alone."
"Follow me, Miss," the host said to Ryan's visitor. "They've asked not to be disturbed. I'm sorry, Sir. Mam."
Ryan nodded, accepting the apology.
She snorted and followed the host.
"I was saying—"
“I know you're tired of fighting. You won’t have to do that for me.” Ryan settled in his seat, confidently and without hesitation, continuing from the exact point of where our conversation was interrupted. “What do you think I’m doing?”
His blue eyes were penetrating. One of his big hands cupped my cheek while the other hand exposed my palm. He circled it with a long, thick finger.
“I don’t understand your question,” I exhaled roughly.
“I’m battling for your heart, Nicky. I’m fighting so that you’ll see only me. I'm fighting to take away your hurt. I'm fighting to gain your confidence and love. I'm fighting for us.”
Why does he make me feel so defenseless? After everything I've said, how can he be so certain? And am I still interested?
He leaned so close that I had no room on the table's surface. His hands framed my cheeks.
My body naturally responded and moved toward him.
He kissed me.
I kissed him.
Even as I tried to push him away, we came together.
It seemed as if our spirits had lifted from the table, the lounge, the hotel, and soared somewhere above all of it. Had a part of life that was meant for the two of us already begun?
His lips gently pulled from mine.
“I’ve had enough meaningless sex,” he whispered. “I don’t want someone who’s used to public situations or knows what to do with my kisses. I could have had that woman already.” He paused, as if mulling over his thoughts. “You’ll think this is nonsense, but . . .” He looked down at the table. His finger drew circles on it. I saw the little boy was with me again. “I’ve already imagined what it will be like when you’re going to Stanford.”
“You have?” My mouth dropped open.
“I'm getting your coffee ready when you come out of my bedroom in the morning. You're sweet and sleepy-eyed, like that night after you sang the national anthem. I remember that look on your face as if it was moments ago. I'll never forget it.”
I tried to look away, but he held my cheeks.
I had to look into his eyes.
I had to.
“You came down from your bedroom in your robe, so determined and fiery . . . you were ready to let me have it, weren't you?” His silent demand forced an answer from me.
I nodded and smiled at the memory.
I can’t fight him. How can I stay focused with this boy?
“We’ll sit at the kitchen counter and talk about your day. I’ll fix you breakfast, kiss you goodbye, go for a workout or play my baseball game. When we come home, we’ll kiss, have dinner or a cup of hot chocolate and talk about everything. I’ll help you with quizzes and tests, be there for your graduation, and watch as you rise in the business world. I dream of the times I come home from a road trip, and you’re there t
o pick me up at the airport. I’ll cover your face in kisses in front of anyone and everyone. Most of all”—his eyes narrowed—“I look forward to our nights together when I’m on and in your body.”
Embarrassed, I smiled with him, still looking into his eyes. I had to let him know I could stay focused with him, even as I felt taken over, my body possessed by his stare.
“You’re putting limits on us because of a picture that’s in your head, not the picture I have. You see us only in these moments. We'll adapt and change.” He took a strand of my hair and tucked it behind my ear. “I think we’re limitless. I know we can make room for the dreams each of us has. At least, I’m pretty sure I’ve read that in you.”
We didn't move.
We were quiet.
It was as if the hotel lounge had closed and our energy filled the entire space.
I heard no other sounds.
I saw no one but Ryan.
“I want to be good for you.” I put my hand on his heart. “I want to be such an outstanding woman that I'll blow your mind. I have so many doubts . . . so many.”
“I’m a good man.” He kissed me again.
“I believe you. Only, I don’t know if I can be a good woman in the relationship you're looking to have with me. I’ll think about everything you said.” I looked all over his face. "I promise I will."
A swell was coming over me. Muscular, tattooed arms wrapped me inside them as if he were a thick, succulent, leafy plant, wet, moving, weaving, and pricking his way into me, covering my heart, growing and attaching to everything about me.
“Nicky,” he called to me with seductive notes of comfort and reassurance. He made me want to believe in what we could be together. While looking into my eyes, he took my hands in his.
“Please stop seeing Jerry. Try our relationship first,” he pleaded. “We won't be able to get anywhere if you have him as a safety net. I need you to leap with me. Take a chance. Let me soothe your fears. Stop seeing him so we can figure out if we work together. If we don’t, then okay. You'll be free to explore and experiment with him or other boys.”
There it was, Ryan had asked me to commit to him, just like Jenise had informed he would.
My head told me to run.
This boy was coming on much too fast.
But my heart . . . it sang and filled with the gloriousness of new joy like never before. His tenderness made me want to embrace him, lie down next to him, and let him take me in every way.
My defenses softened.
Every moment I spent with Ryan weakened my resistance.
I wanted to let go.
He made me want to jump into magnificence.
That night, it was as if a thin veil of cloth lifted. Layer after layer of resistance peeled away, leaving me more transparent and vulnerable. I could see my struggle form a mist and swirl in a circle around me.
“I promise I’ll think seriously about everything we discussed. Jerry and I are good friends. We grew up together and I can’t just cut him out of my life because you're uncomfortable.” You can’t? You’ve been good at cutting people away so far. “I want and need to have my friends, like you had at my age. We’re going to the same college, so we’ll see each other there anyway.”
He kissed my hand and put it on his heart.
“Tell him you’re with me. Won’t you please tell Jerry you’re mine, and I’m yours?”
He unlocked our hands, turned them over and kissed my palms, my wrists, and continued to travel with slow deliciousness all the way up my arms.
“Yes, I will. Soon, Ryan.” Weaker by the second, I finally pushed the words out of my mouth.
My cheek felt the soft caress of his hand.
I closed my eyes.
His fingertips, rough from where he’d built up his calluses from pitching, ran across my face. When his wrist turned, I could sense the small movements and twitches in it. I indulged in the possibility that he was warming me up for something more.
God, he’s taking me apart little by little, telling me everything any normal woman would want to hear. I wonder if he can see my face throbbing.
“Let’s go see my brother.” He stood and offered his hand. I took it and walked to the elevator with him. We stepped in.
It felt as if I'd stepped into another story—another life.
We held each other until we arrived at the eighth floor.
Chapter 19
Chris Tilton, Jr.
“Here’s my brother's room.” Ryan stopped at a door several removed from the elevator and at the beginning of a long hallway.
“How old is he?” I leaned against the wall.
“Thirty." His cheek twitched.
“Four years older." I looked at him from the corner of my eye. It seemed he was hesitant to knock. "Sort of like my sister and me.”
"Hmm. Like you and your sister, indeed." He flashed a smile.
He let go of my hand.
I felt cold without it.
I needed to have the warmth I'd felt only a second earlier, when a part of his body was connected with my own. Bringing his hand to my lips, I kissed it and then stood at Ryan's side.
I felt him gather me up against his big body.
Oh no . . . my legs.
“Nicky.” His voice was soft.
His body pressed on my innocence as he framed me against the wall. Bulging forearms were on each side of my head, caging me. I felt his body push out to mine. This little preview of what it would feel like to be his woman, made my not-so-innocent inner sexual priestess announce her presence. His chin nudged upward against my cheek. Soft lips opened my mouth. Letting his breath come into me was like a hot desert wind before the monsoon. Oh, how I wanted that warm rain on my body.
The sounds in his throat made pulses stir from deep inside my belly. Our mouths teased playfully, gently. I gave myself over to the story his kisses were telling me. His arms hesitated on my shoulders and his ear delicately brushed mine.
I could feel his heart beating as he pressed against my breasts, which ached for my surrender. My flame was becoming fire. My hands rose slowly to his thick neck. I was ready to welcome more of his rhythms just as his body lifted.
Oh no . . . more please.
“Are you starting to understand?" Ryan's moist lips touched my ear as he said the words.
"Mmm."
"You may not see everything we’re capable of,” he tilted my chin back with a gentle nudge. “But you will.”
That’s good, because right now I could be capable of way more than you know.
He turned to knock on his brother’s door.
“Wait!” I reached for his arm. “Let me catch my breath!”
Oh, damn that shitty smile he has. He knows I’m weak. If his brother answers the door after what he just did I’ll be like a fish flopping on the ground.
Ryan's arms flexed. Luscious biceps began to orchestrate their symphony, ready to play my body and ripple through my soul. If he embraced me in that slow, sensual way he had perfected, I knew I might not recover before his brother opened the door.
“Please don’t hug me again." I put my hand out. It landed on his chest. My palm burned with heat. "I’ll never be ready to meet your brother if you do that.”
He laughed his sexy laugh and knocked on the door.
Easy for you to laugh; I can’t breathe.
"How are you, Ryan?" A man who was obviously Ryan's brother answered. The two shared a brief handshake.
"Great. You?" Ryan's body stiffened.
"Just hangin' loose, feelin' the love," he kidded. "Come on in." Chris stepped aside. "You must be Nicky. Pleasure to finally meet you. Chris Tilton." He extended his hand and I took it.
Ryan and Chris's smiles seem to be forced. Hmm.
The two men seemed to purposefully move their bodies so they wouldn't touch or make direct eye contact.
Both seemed tense.
The air thickened.
You guys didn't hug . . . what's going on here?
&n
bsp; Chris had a certain mature look that his little brother didn’t have. I loved how I could sometimes see Ryan’s baby face when he smiled, while laugh lines paved a few roads near Chris’s eyes. The roundness of getting older filled his face. His hair fell to his shoulders and was darker and longer than Ryan's, and his body was slender and not quite as tall.
The hotel room was modern with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out on the Embarcadero’s Ferry Building and famous clock. There was a small lanai, which offered views of the bay, furnished with two chairs and a bistro table. Luxuriously appointed in dark woods and marble tabletops, the small living room included a working area with a wooden desk, a large curved-screen television, a small sofa, and four chairs that surrounded a matching coffee table. On it was four wine glasses and a bottle of something chilling in an ice bucket. A king-size bed rested against the window with the puffiest comforter I’d ever seen on top of it. A crisp white coverlet and throw blanket made me want to bounce on the bed.
“You guys look great,” Chris commented. “Going somewhere special?”
“Dinner and dancing.” Ryan looked at me with a smile that had bloomed with warmth. His proud chest seemed swollen with the anticipation of our evening.
“Sounds nice. Let’s sit down,” Chris gestured to the four chairs surrounding the table. “Frances is freshening up; she’ll be out in a minute. I ordered some sparkling cider for us.” He opened the bottle and poured it in the four glasses.
That’s sweet. He doesn’t drink either? Or is he sensitive to his brother’s resolve?
“How long are you in town?” Ryan questioned.
You don’t know? That’s a little weird.
"We leave late Friday night for Seattle, after your game.” He playfully socked Ryan's arm. “That is, if you can get us tickets.”
Finally, an act of affection!
Ryan smiled with such innocence, I wondered if it was from a time when the boys were little.
“Mom sends her love. She’s looking forward to seeing you in a few weeks.” Chris plugged the bottle and put it back on ice. “I didn’t know she was coming out so soon after her last visit. Isn’t that a little unusual for you two to see each other so quickly?”
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