Angel Series Books #1-2.5

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Angel Series Books #1-2.5 Page 8

by Tracy Lorraine


  “Sorry, I think I’m missing the point. What has this got to do with my original question about all the guys?” Ryan looks confused.

  “Other than my gran and the Morrisons, I never felt loved. Those two people who are meant to love and support you no matter what didn’t care about me, other than for continuing the family to ensure the business would continue. When I started going out with boys, they made me feel special, feel needed and wanted. At first, it was just handholding and kissing, but it wasn’t long before I was experimenting with more ways to feel needed. I never went out to ho myself around loads of guys. I was trying to find a nice one. I am well aware that it was my own fault because I put out too easily, but I was young and naïve and thought it would make them stick around. All I’ve ever wanted was to find someone to love me and take care of me, like you did with Hannah. I want someone to look at me like I am his reason for living. I was so jealous of you guys.” I’m a blubbering mess by the time I’ve finished, and I find myself wrapped in Ryan’s arms again.

  “I’m so sorry, I keep crying on you, you must be getting fed up of me,” I say once I’ve calmed down.

  “Don’t be stupid. I’ve been wanting to know about your parents for years, but Hannah would never tell me. She said it was your story to tell. I’m so sorry your parents were like that. You deserve them to love you. And I know it’s not quite the same but you know you’ve got me, right? I’ll always take care of you. I love you Molly, you are my best friend.”

  “I love you too, Ry.”

  “Your Prince Charming will come when you least expect it, I promise.”

  I feel him kiss my head. He’s right; it’s not quite the same, but it’s bloody good. I squeeze him a little tighter and try my hardest to ignore the tingles that erupt where our naked skin is touching.

  Ryan

  I’d presumed most of the things Molly said about her parents from the little bits I have heard before, but hearing it first-hand still shocks me. I’m so angry they could treat their daughter that way, could try to control her into doing what they wanted. I feel more grateful than ever for my family. Okay, yes, they tried to do something similar, but they accepted my decision in the end, and have supported me all the way.

  My parents are both very traditional. They always believed that a man should get a manly job like working in construction; he should find a nice woman, marry her and make loads of babies together. They believed, a little like Molly’s parents I guess, that the woman should stay home and raise the children while the man works hard to support his family. This is what they wanted for me: to leave school, get an apprenticeship in a trade, find a job close to home, and a nice girlfriend. They never imagined me leaving Liverpool.

  I wanted the opposite, though, just like Molly. I’d wanted to go to college, study sport science and become a PE teacher from as early as I can remember, and I knew I wanted to leave Liverpool to experience another city. I spent years researching and visiting places I might want to go. I came down to Oxford one weekend with a couple of mates, and just fell in love with the city. So Oxford Brookes University it was; all I then had to do was get the grades.

  My parents have visited me down here a couple of times, but mostly I go up to them. They were not impressed to say the least when I decided to stay in Oxford to do my teacher training, and then even less impressed when I decided to stay for good. The only bit they liked about it all was Hannah. They loved her. I may not have followed their plan for me with regards to my job and where I wanted to live, but I managed to find the nice girlfriend to settle down with, and they were over the moon about that.

  My parents eased up a little after I moved away. My two younger sisters, Abbi - who is now twenty-one - is about to start her last year of university in Manchester doing primary teaching, and Liv - nineteen - has just finished her first year in Cardiff doing journalism. They didn’t seem get half as much grief as I did when I decided to go away. I often remind my sisters about how much they need to thank me for making their lives easier, as it always seemed to be the case that I got all the hassle for the decisions I made, but when they came to make their decisions, our mum and dad just seemed to go with it.

  “I just wish mine would have come around to the idea like yours did,” Molly says quietly.

  I have been explaining all about my family to Molly for the last half an hour. It’s nice to have someone else understand what it was like, although my parents were there for me in the end, and still are.

  “When was the last time you spoke to your parents?”

  “Um…I actually can’t remember. I speak to Steven and Daniel quiet often; they tend to keep me updated with what’s going on in the family.”

  “Have you always got on with your brothers okay then?” I’ve only met her brothers once, at Hannah’s funeral. They came to support Molly, which told me they were nice guys, unlike her parents who couldn’t possibly leave their holiday a day early. But as you can imagine. I didn’t get to talk to them, and she hasn’t really mentioned them since.

  “Yeah, we speak most weeks. We are as close as we can be with such a big age gap. They have always supported my decision to break away from the family business, and have never held it against me. They have both told me on separate occasions that they really wanted to be part of it, and really enjoy taking on the renovations and rental side of the estate agency my dad runs. They have started up a sister company that they have control over, and by all accounts it’s doing really well.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad you have them to turn to if you need them.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “It’s your birthday soon; you’ll hear from your parents then, right?”

  “Oh yeah, I’ll hear from them.”

  We’ve been sat out on the balcony in the sun all afternoon, reminiscing mostly about Hannah, but our families and friends as well. We have somehow managed to drink our way through two pitchers of Pimm’s whilst out here. I don’t know about Molly, but I’m starting to feel a little buzzed with the mixture of sun and alcohol.

  I watch as she pops the last bit of fruit from her glass into her mouth, and I am mesmerised by how sexy she looks doing something so simple. When her tongue comes out to lick away the juice on her lips, I know I need to get up and do something. “Now it’s cooling down, I think I’ll go for a run along the beach.” I stand up and begin collecting our glasses.

  “Okay, I was thinking of heading in for a shower and getting dressed for dinner, anyway. I’m feeling quite cooked!”

  I look back at her and realise that she is right: she has a lovely glow over her skin, and a bit of a pink nose. I watch as she stands and staggers a little. Yep, not just me who’s buzzed, then. I continue watching as she makes her way to the bedroom, swaying slightly.

  I’ve been running for a long time. My legs are burning and the sweat is pouring off me. Once I climbed over the rocks we can see from the hut that we thought was the end of the beach, I found a long sandy stretch that I went the entire length of. It was more touristy that our secluded piece of heaven next door.

  I am now back sat on those rocks, looking over the beach. I’m watching a young family building sandcastles. The little girl can’t be more than two years old, and her parents are still in their twenties, I’d say. They are having such fun. I know it’s stupid to feel it because I am in no way lonely, but that’s how I feel in this moment. Actually, since I lost Hannah, I’ve felt lonely. I loved sharing my life with her; it made me feel complete to wake up to her in the morning and hold her in my arms at night before I fell asleep.

  That lonely feeling is soon overtaken by guilt. For the past six months, when I have pictured my future, I was alone. Yes I had my friends and family around me, but I was living alone in my house. But all of a sudden, a change in that vision has taken me by surprise and scared the fuck out of me. I now see Molly. And I don’t mean living downstairs - I mean I see Molly everywhere. Her making me dinner at night, going out together, putting the Christmas
tree up, in bed, being that family I’m watching.

  “FUCK,” I shout as I run my hands through my hair and feel the tears running down my face. I scrub them away with the back of my hands. I promised Hannah I would move on one day. Every time I go to her grave I tell her I will, because I know that is what she would want for me, and I was fine with that happening...one day. But how has that one day come so quickly, and why is it Molly? She made it pretty clear this morning that we are just friends, and she sees me as her brother. Yes, I’ve caught her checking me out, but what can I say, she is only a woman and I do have a pretty good body, so that really doesn’t mean anything. I often appreciate what is in front of me, but it doesn’t mean I want them.

  Shit, what would Hannah think about Molly and me? Molly was her best friend; would she think it’s weird? What would she want me to do?

  I sit there for a while longer, trying to get my head together when it comes to Molly. I come to the decision that I’ve got to put my new feelings aside, firstly so I can try to make sense of them, and secondly so I can be the friend she needs me to be. If I push anything, then I’m likely to push her away, and I need her. If what I’m feeling is meant to happen, then it will. I won’t need to push it.

  With that little pep talk over, I head back to the beach hut. What I find when I get there almost makes me forget everything I’ve just told myself.

  Chapter Seven

  Molly

  Ryan’s been gone ages. I’m starting to get worried. I rang his mobile over half an hour ago, but it rang in the living room. I am trying to stop myself from worrying by keeping busy. I decided, as we are celebrating tonight, to wear one of the dresses I bought on my holiday shopping trip yesterday. It’s a full length maxi dress with multi-coloured flowers printed all over the thin, sheer fabric. The top is cut low and square across my breasts, showing off my ample cleavage. I have left my hair to dry naturally, tucked a flower behind my ear, and kept my make-up light. The overall effect has me feeling really good.

  We decided to have Hannah’s favourite for dinner. I have prepped all the cold ingredients, so when Ryan gets back, it’s just the beef that needs cooking. I have also made a pitcher of margaritas to go with the tacos, but in the time I’ve been waiting I’ve already had one too many. Add those to the Pimm’s from earlier and I might be having an early night.

  I’ve just finished a pint of water to try to dilute it all, when I hear footsteps on the balcony.

  “Ryan, is that you? I’ve been worried sick, you should have taken your... ” I begin to scold as he appears around the corner. Oh, holy fucking hell, I’ve died and gone to heaven. “Um…your phone…um…taken it…with you. Shit.” That’s it, he’s done it. He’s turned me in to a stuttering idiot.

  He’s standing there in the doorway with the sun behind him. His body is tanned and glistening where the sun is hitting the sweat that’s covering it, his hair is sticking up in all directions, and his eyes…shit, his eyes look like they are telling me to go over and devour him. Um, yes please, I think as I stand here, practically drooling. I watch as his tongue comes out to wet his lips. Oh God, I want those lips on me. The throbbing between my legs is starting to actually get painful. I squeeze my thighs together to try to relieve it, but I swear the pressure makes it worse. I feel like I’m about to melt into a puddle on the floor.

  Ryan distracts me from my almost orgasmic state. “Holy motherfucking shit.”

  My eyes go back up to his after getting my fill of his half-naked body, and see they are roaming all over me before they come to rest on my tits.

  “Are you trying to kill me, woman?”

  When I laugh, his eyes come back up to mine. His normally bright blues are almost navy they’re so dark. Shit, I need to break the tension here before one of us does something we’ll regret. Fuck, he’s starting to walk towards me.

  “I’ve pretty much got dinner sorted, so if you want to go have a shower, I’ll finish it off.”

  He’s still sauntering towards me slowly, with an intention in his eyes I don’t want to identify. Double shit.

  “I’ve already laid the table, so you can meet me outside once…”

  He’s stood about an inch away from my body, My breasts are so close to rubbing up against his chest, I’m worried I’ll go off like a rocket if he so much as touches them. Ryan’s hand comes up and rests on my cheek, while he still stares into my eyes.

  “I don’t know what was wrong with all the guys you’ve been with before, because your body was designed to be worshiped,” he practically growls before swallowing. The movement of the muscles in his neck distracts me, and allows him to move so he can whisper in my ear, “for hours.”

  “Ryan...shower.” I manage to croak out, when I see his face coming closer to mine again. I don’t think I’ve ever been so torn over something before. Kiss me – no, don’t kiss me. Shit, I’m so confused and turned on right now.

  “Ryan,” I whisper. This seems to break the trance he’s been in, as he flinches back a bit before kissing my forehead and walking out of the room, muttering something about needing a very cold shower.

  I walk out of the hut and lean against the balcony railing, looking over the beach below. What the hell is going on here? Where did all this sexual tension come from all of a sudden? We’ve been good friends for almost four years now, and best friends for the last six months. In that time, we have never once had an awkward moment.

  After Hannah died, we held each other while we cried. We had nights where we held each other in bed while we slept, but even then, not even a hint of anything. I move in, and suddenly it’s like bam! He’s all I can see and think about.

  Nothing can happen between us, though. Just thinking back to how Emma reacted earlier when she presumed something was going on is enough to scare me off. If she felt that strongly when she was presuming, how would she react if it actually happened? What about Susan and Pete, or the twins? How would they react? Fuck, I could lose them all.

  The sudden realisation has me panicking. If something happened between us and it didn’t work, I’d lose him as my best friend. There is no way we’d be this close afterwards. The Morrisons might all act like Emma earlier; then I’d not only lose my best friend, but the people I see as my family. That cannot happen. That’s it. I need to control my feelings where Ryan is concerned. This has to stop. Maybe I need a date, see someone else. Maybe it’s not Ryan I want really, it’s my body’s way of telling me I’m ready to get out there and find that great guy I’ve been waiting for.

  Instead of going back to the dinner, I grab my phone and call Susan to see how she’s doing, before calling Emma back. I’m glad when she answers. I really hope she can start being around a bit more. I really miss her. I also call Lilly and Dec to check up on them. They all sound sad, but like they are doing okay. They are doing something similar to us tonight. They’ve gone with another Mexican favourite of Hannah’s, and are all having fajitas for dinner as a family to remember her.

  When Ryan reappears, I’ve only just started on the beef. “Sorry, I got distracted. I phoned Susan, Emma and the twins to check in with them all,” I explain. I glance over to see him run his hand through his wet hair, leaving it in a sexy mess, I run my eyes over him quickly. He’s wearing a black t-shirt that is stretched across his wide shoulders and chest and tan shorts, which I’m sure I’ll really appreciate when he turns around, because they look a little tight and he has a great arse.

  “No problem. We’re on holiday; we can do whatever we want. How are they doing?”

  “They sounded better than I expected, to be honest.” I go on to tell him everything they all said on the phone while I finish cooking.

  Dinner was delicious and uneventful, except for the fact that I caught Ryan watching me a number of times. Maybe messy food wasn’t great in the situation we have found ourselves in. It felt like every time I licked one of my fingers, his eyes darkened slightly. When I dropped a piece of lettuce into my cleavage, I thought he was going to ex
plode. He looked like he wanted to shove his head in my tits and remove it with his teeth. Now, don’t get me wrong, I was totally up for that, but it goes against my earlier decision to try to forget about him that way and think about going on a date. Needless to say, my resolve is weakening.

  As soon as we cleared our plates, I immediately got up and started to clean up. I just couldn’t sit there any longer. The tension was killing me.

  “I put the DVD’s I brought by the TV. Do you want to pick one and put it on? I’m going to get changed.” I decided while I was washing up that this situation was somehow the dress’ fault, so it was coming off in favour of a tank top and shorts.

  When I come out, Ryan is already on the sofa and has refilled the pitcher that we emptied over dinner. He’s also found the box of chocolate truffles we bought, and placed them on the coffee table. As I walk over, I notice which DVD he’s chosen. Is he fucking serious? The Friends with Benefits box is open with the disc missing. It’s like he knows how hot this film makes me. I mean, come on: Justin Timberlake practically naked, who wouldn’t get a bit hot?

  “Um…why this film?” I try to ask as innocently as possible as I sit on the floor, leaning my back against the sofa in an attempt to keep my distance from him.

  “I’ve never seen it, and you two were always going on about it. Plus, the main actress is fit,” he says, shrugging. Brilliant, just what we need to add to our sexual tension.

  We are about halfway into the film and I think it’s going okay, I mean, yes, it’s awkward as fuck, but if I don’t look at Ryan at all then it makes it easier. I’m still sat on the floor and it’s really un-fucking-comfortable. I can’t feel my arse, and I’ve got pins and needles in my legs, but I am adamant that I’m not sitting next to him on that small sofa. He keeps telling me to come up, but I keep making excuses.

 

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