My grandad was devastated. He still is.
Their house looks exactly the same as my gran left it before going to bed that night. He hasn’t moved a thing.
He’s told me how unhealthy it is that he hasn’t attempted to move on, but he said that after a lifetime together he’s got nothing else to look forward to and that he’d love more than anything to keep her spirit alive.
Since losing Hannah, he’s expressed his desire for me not to follow in his footsteps. He’s told me time and time again to find the strength to continue with my life. To forge new paths for myself without feeling guilty because it would be what she wanted, too.
Once we hang up, I look out over the sea beyond and try to pull myself together. Walking back over to the bedroom door, I hear Molly saying goodbye. I stand and listen a little longer to make sure she’s okay. It’s not long before I hear her start crying. Putting all my feelings aside, I knock on the door. No matter how I feel, she’s my best friend, and I need to be here for her like she has been for me.
“Yeah,” she replies quietly. I open the door, and she’s lying on the bed, sobbing into her pillow.
I lie down in front of her and pull her into my arms so she’s against my chest. She throws her right arm and leg over my body and clings on while she cries. I try to comfort her by slowly rubbing my hand up and down her back. Eventually, her breathing evens out.
Chapter Six
Molly
I wake up feeling really hot. When I open my eyes, I realise why. My head’s on Ryan’s naked chest, my arm and leg wrapped tightly around his body. He’s holding onto me equally as tight. I spend a few seconds appreciating his sculpted chest before I peer up at his face to see that he’s still fast asleep. He looks so young and carefree.
I wish we didn’t have to deal with today.
I lie there, looking at him a while longer, before his lips curl up at the corners.
“If you keep staring at me like that, I’ll get the wrong idea,” he says quietly, his eyes still shut.
I gently smack his chest and lift myself up on my elbow. I hear a thud as my phone slides from the bed, but I don’t look away. His eyes open. They’re full of love and compassion as he stares back at me. I always know I’m safe when I look into his eyes.
“Thank you for this. I really needed it,” I say, looking into his eyes to show him how serious I am. “Emma was on the phone, and she was really upset.” “Come on, let’s get up and have breakfast on that amazing balcony.”
I go to move, but his arm around me tightens slightly. “Thank you for everything, Molly. I really mean it,” he says, so sincerely it makes my heart hurt. But then, I see the corner of his lips twitch as he says, “The view from the balcony is pretty good, but I’m not sure it can beat the one I’ve got right now.” He looks down at my chest, a suggestive smirk on his face.
I look down and realise I’m giving him an eyeful. I put my hand over my breasts and jump out of his hold and off the bed, scowling at him.
He puts his hands up in defeat. “I only looked once, I promise,” he says, still smiling.
I bend down to pick up my phone. “Oh, come on, you’re not playing fair.” I look back to see him sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my arse. I can’t help but notice the obvious bulge in his boxers. Butterflies erupt in my belly at the thought of being able to affect him so easily.
“Do you want me to ring Emma back and tell her you’ve been checking me out?” I ask as I leave the bedroom.
“Oh, come on,” he shouts. “Don’t even pretend you didn’t get a good look this morning, or from the hot tub last night, or when you came in Saturday evening.” He chuckles to himself as he starts walking into the living room, but stops to grab a pair of shorts to cover himself up.
“So, about that dream yesterday morning.” I deadpan.
“Touché. What’s for breakfast?”
We spend what little is left of the morning sat on the balcony eating fresh fruit, granola, and yoghurt. We must have fallen back to sleep for longer than I thought, but I feel better for it.
“Right, today is the only day I’m not going to work, because we’re celebrating. So, what’s the plan?” I ask Ryan while we tidy up.
“Let’s just chill out here, stick on some of that god-awful music Hannah was so obsessed with, and hit the sun loungers.”
“Ew, what an awful plan,” I say, laughing as I wander through the hut to put on today’s bikini—a navy and white striped nautical look. I can’t wear the little string bikinis that others do; I need more support than that, so I have to go for the bra-style tops to keep everything in place and under control. Having said that, this one in particular does good things for my cleavage.
“I’ll meet you out there. You know the playlist we need on my phone.”
I’m just putting my hair up out of the way when the music starts filling the hut. It makes me smile as memories of happier times with Hannah flit through my mind. I grab my Kindle, phone, and suntan lotion before heading out to the balcony.
Ryan’s sat on a lounger with his aviators on, sipping a glass of water. I can’t help but drop my gaze to check him out; he looks like a bloody model, wearing black shorts with the waistband of his boxers poking out. I’m not sure if it’s pleasure or torture, having to look at him.
I can’t see his eyes, but I can tell they’re roaming over my body. My skin heats under his scrutiny. Grabbing my phone, I open up the camera just in time for his eyes to find mine. There’s a wicked glint in them that makes my insides flutter.
“You need to stop doing that,” I tell him seriously.
“What? It’s not like I’m going to throw you down and have my wicked way with you. I’m merely just appreciating the female form in all its glory.” Tingles head south at the image his words create in my head. “Anyway, you’re not my type.”
And, they’re gone.
I don’t know why hearing that makes my steps falter and disappointment flood me. I should be happy about this, right?
“Yeah, I guess not. I’ve got more curves than all the girls you’ve been with put together.” Hannah was a gorgeous, slim, tall build. She wasn’t quite straight up and down—she had a cute, pert arse, and I guess you could say her breasts were a small handful. She also had stunning golden blonde long hair and striking blue eyes. I’ve seen photos of the girls Ryan dated previously, and they pretty much looked the same. I’m the complete opposite with my rounded arse and hips, tiny waist, and double Ds. Hannah was almost always quiet, polite, and well-spoken, something Ryan often complimented about her. I, on the other hand, say it like it is…and I swear like a trooper.
My shoulders slouch as I stand in front of him. I hand him the bottle I’m holding and turn around. I must look defeated as I do it because he leans into my ear and whispers, “You’re gorgeous, Molly. Don’t think for a second I was suggesting you’re not.”
His words and the warmth of his hands lightly skimming down my sides as he massages in the suntan lotion make my knees slightly weak. The tingles return and descend south. A man has never affected me like this. I’ve never felt this incredible pull before. I used to thrive on the feeling of men wanting me, but I’ve never desperately wanted them. Sex for me has always been about being wanted, not because I had to have it right then and there.
I clear my throat. “T-thank you.” Even to my ears, my voice sounds rough as I quickly scurry away from his hands and onto the outside sofa. I lie down on my stomach and keep my face away from him. Why has it got to be him causing these feelings in me? We’ve known each other for years and been as close as two friends can get over the last six months without me feeling like this, but a few days of living with him, and he’s turned me into a frustrated mess. I squeeze my thighs together to try to dull the ache and chant in my head that he’s my friend. I can’t imagine Hannah would be too pleased about my feelings towards her boyfriend. The thought causes a giant lump to form in my throat and a tear to run down my cheek. This is so wrong. I sho
uldn’t be feeling like this.
“Molls, are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine. You?” I sound anything but, and he knows me well enough to know that.
“Uh huh, yep, I’m good.”
“Hey, do you remember that night we all went bowling?” He laughs, and I turn to look at him.
That did it. We spend the next few hours reminiscing about our memories from university and the following couple of years at work. We had some great times together, and Ryan was right—those times need celebrating. I tell him stories about us growing up and from school, some of which he’d heard before, and some he hadn’t.
“Tell me about the first time you met,” Ryan says, after a few minutes of silence between us. He already knows this story, but I humour him anyway, because it’s comforting to reflect. It’s important that, together, we keep her memory alive.
“My first solid memory is from primary school. We must have been four or five. We went over to get our coats and snacks for break time, and someone had put my lunchbox on a shelf that I couldn’t reach. This boy came over and said he would get it down for me if I kissed him. I didn’t like that, so I shoved my knee straight between his legs and watched him fall to the ground in pain.” Ryan flinches, making me laugh. “When I looked up from him rolling around crying, Hannah was stood behind him and had a big smile on her face. She must have seen the whole thing. She reached up and grabbed my lunchbox easily; she was really tall, even then. After that, we spent every day together.”
“What happened to him?”
“Um, well. That didn’t put him off. He continued chasing me for that kiss. Eventually, he won, and I lost my virginity to him ten years later at a friend’s party. But he turned out to be gay in the end.”
“Well, I didn’t see that coming.” Ryan sounds slightly shocked by my honesty.
“It wasn’t worth the long wait.”
“You lost your virginity at fourteen?” he asks.
“Yeah, unfortunately. I totally regret it, but to be honest, if I’d waited until I found someone special like everyone says to, then I’d still be a virgin now.”
“That wouldn’t be such a bad thing, Molls. It would mean you wouldn’t have had to deal with any of the arseholes you’ve chosen in the past few years.”
“True. It’s not like I’ve had years of awesome sex to make up for them, either. They were all as bad in bed as their personalities.”
“Please tell me they all had little dicks as well?”
“Um…not all of them, but as the saying goes, it’s not about the size, it’s what you do with it.”
“I never understood why you got with so many different guys when you could have found a nice one to settle down with. I still had the idea in my head that you were having fun doing it, but you’ve just ruined that for me. So, if you weren’t enjoying it, why were you doing it?”
“My parents were pretty shitty. They never wanted me. I learnt from a young age that if you take antibiotics whilst on the pill, they stop it working effectively, so here I am. My parents had already had the two boys they wanted. Steven was fourteen and Daniel was twelve by the time I was born.
“It was all planned out; they would take over and expand the family business. They decided that I, on the other hand, would grow up, be just like my mum, and provide them with some grandchildren. They decided not to pay for me to go to private school like my brothers, so I went to the local secondary with Hannah and Emma. It was a great school, so I can’t complain.
“I had different ideas, though. I wanted a career, and I had no intention of ever joining the family business in any capacity. I wanted to be my own person. My parents told me I wasn’t going to sixth form and that I would work for them. I told them that wasn’t happening, and that I’d move out, if need be, to enable myself to live my own life. Eventually, they came around to the idea of me staying, but they cut me off. The allowance I used to get was put into a trust fund that I couldn’t access until I was twenty-one. I’m sure they only did it to try to stop me from going to university.
“So, I spent my two years at sixth form juggling school work and fitting in as many hours as possible. I was desperate to go to university, and I managed to keep my grades up so I would have a good chance of getting in. But the money was an issue. I would never get any loans or anything with my parents’ finances as they were.”
“How did you manage it?”
“I applied for every kind of funding there was, and I did manage to get a little bit, but not enough. One day, I got a phone call from my gran, my dad’s mum, and she asked to see me. She handed me a cheque that was more than enough to cover my three years at university.” Tears well in my eyes as I think back to the determination in her eyes that day. She wanted me to have the world. “She died of a heart attack two months later. I was devastated but determined to make her proud.”
“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. The two people who were meant to love and support me no matter what didn’t care about me. When I started going out with boys, they made me feel special… needed and wanted. At first, it was just handholding and kissing, but it wasn’t long before I was experimenting with more. All I’ve ever wanted was to find someone to love me and take care of me, like you did with Hannah. I wanted 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. 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’re my best friend.”
“I love you too, Ry.”
“Your Prince Charming will come when you least expect him, I promise.”
His lips press against my head and warmth races through me. 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 guessed most of the things Molly said about her parents from the little bits I’d 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, 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 worked 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, as well as a nice girlfriend. They never imagined me leaving Liverpool.
I wanted the opposite, 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 fell in love with the city. So, Oxford Brookes University it was; all I 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 even less impressed when I chose to stay for good. The only bit they liked about it all was H
annah. They loved her.
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 to get half as much grief as I did when I decided to go away. It always seemed to be the case that I got all the hassle for the decisions I made, but when it came time to make theirs, our parents just seemed to go with it.
“I just wish mine would have come around to the idea like yours did,” Molly says quietly.
I’ve been explaining all about my family to Molly for the last half an hour. It’s nice to have someone else who understands 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.”
“Have you always got along with your brothers?” 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. As you can imagine, I didn’t get to talk to them at the time, 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’ve always supported my decision to break away from the family business and have never held it against me. They’ve 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’ve started up a sister company and it’s doing really well.”
“I’m glad you have them to turn to. Your birthday’s soon, so you’ll hear from your parents then, right?”
Falling For Ryan: Part One Page 6