Falling For Ryan: Part One

by Tracy Lorraine

  She leans in towards me so I can hear her. “You look lonely. Dance with me?”

  I glance to where my friends are dancing and see Molly’s eyes on me over Adam’s shoulder. She quickly diverts them when she sees me looking back. I can’t help but think that her watching me dance with another woman might make her realise that it should be her.

  “Sure,” I say to the blonde. “Come on.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Molly

  I’ve been watching some blonde bimbo grind herself against Ryan’s body for the last four songs, and I hate it. She has her hands all over him, and all I can think about is how he would feel, how soft his skin is, how hard his muscles are.

  Completely lost in my imagination, I feel myself start dancing with Adam how I would like to dance with Ryan. I shut my eyes and let my body take over. I move so that his leg is between mine and I grind against him to the beat of the music. I run my hands over his body, ignoring the little voice in my mind that says he isn’t muscular enough. When he speaks into my ear, I can’t help but think his voice isn’t deep enough. But the images in my head are turning me on so much that I drown out those thoughts.

  Tilting my head up, I capture Adam’s lips with my own. His hands slide down to my arse and he pulls me tight against his very obvious erection. His tongue teases the seam of my lips until I open up for him. As soon as I do, he invades my mouth and tangles with mine. That little voice starts again, telling me how he doesn’t taste right, how he doesn’t set my whole body on fire with his kiss. But again, I try to push those thoughts away and continue.

  Adam’s chest is rising and falling at such a rate that he has to pull away from my lips so he can catch his breath. He trails kisses across my jaw and down my neck, so I chance a look in Ryan’s direction. What I see almost has me pushing Adam off me. He’s completely still while the blonde continues to rub herself against him, staring right at me with an empty look in his eyes.

  I watch as realisation hits him. He looks me right in the eyes before grabbing the blonde behind her head and crashing her lips to his. She instantly closes her eyes and lets him in. Ryan, on the other hand, still has his eyes locked on me as he practically devours her before my eyes. I feel like someone has just kicked me in the stomach, knocking all the wind out of me.

  Adam places a kiss on my lips and continues along the side of my face. “Take me to your place,” I say against his ear.

  “Are you sure?” he asks with his eyebrows drawn together.

  “Yes.”

  I grab his hand and begin to pull him from the dance floor, but not before looking back at Ryan. He’s still watching me with the blonde’s lips attached to his neck. I smirk at him as we move and see his eyebrows rise and his head shake from side to side slightly, like he can’t believe what I’m doing.

  Adam quickly finds us a taxi, and we’re soon heading to his flat.

  As soon as we’re through the front door, he’s on me. He carefully guides us into his living room and, in seconds, I feel the sofa hit the backs of my knees. He gently lays me down and kneels between my legs so he can continue kissing me. His hand runs from my ankle up to my waist before slipping under my top and coming to a stop when he’s cupping my breast. He lies down harder on top of me and grinds his hard dick against my core.

  Trailing his lips across my cheek and down my neck, he breathes me in. “You’re so sexy, Molly,” he moans as he runs his tongue around the edge of my ear. “I can’t wait to feel your skin against mine.”

  My heart’s racing, but it’s not for the reason it should be. None of this is right. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be with him. My hands tremble as I try to figure out the right thing to do. My arms move of their own accord and run up his back, but it’s a slender body, not the ripped, muscular one I desire.

  Fuck, what am I doing?

  “Adam, I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” I push at his shoulders, trying desperately to get his weight off me.

  I watch as he pulls his head back from my neck, removes his hand from my breast and places it on my cheek.

  “It’s okay. We don’t have to do more than you’re happy with. I just thought you were turned on and wanted this.”

  “I thought I did, but I’m not ready.” I close my eyes so he can’t see the tears in them or the real reason I called a halt on things. He’s just all wrong.

  “Come on, let’s go to bed.” My eyes fly open in shock. “To sleep, Molly. I meant what I said. I really like you. I’m more than happy to take this slow.” He stands up and pulls me with him. I bite my lips to stop myself from admitting the truth.

  I slip my jeans off while Adam is in the bathroom, then slide into his bed. When he comes back in, he’s wearing his boxers and a t-shirt. I roll over so I’m facing the edge of the bed when he climbs in. I can feel him peering down at me, but I keep my eyes shut and stay still.

  “Molly?” he whispers.

  “Hmm?”

  “Can I hold you?” he asks nervously.

  “Mmhmm.” It wasn’t until my head hit the pillow that I realised just how exhausted I was. Adam releases a breath as he slides his front to my back and gently wraps his arm around my waist.

  “Goodnight, Molly,” he says next to my ear, then places a kiss to my head.

  I drift off to sleep. The last time I was cuddling in bed, it was with Ryan.

  “Morning, sleepyhead,” Adam says as I appear in his living room, probably looking as bad as I feel.

  I grunt in response.

  “Oh, that good?” he says with a laugh. “Do you want tea or coffee?

  “Tea, please,” I manage to get out.

  “Okay, sit down. I’ll be right back.”

  I sit on the sofa and put my head back on the cushion. I must have had more to drink last night than I realised. I think back over the night’s events and instantly feel awful for how I treated Ryan, but he was giving as good as he got with that blonde. I wonder if he took her home. The thought makes me want to empty my stomach right here.

  This is crazy. What are we doing to each other? Why can’t I be brave enough to just take the jump with him?

  I spend the rest of the morning with Adam, and once I’m feeling like I can make the journey without being ill, I ask him to drive me home. When we pull up outside my house, I lean over and give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “Thank you. I’ll speak to you soon.”

  “No problem. Enjoy the rest of your weekend,” he says, before I get out and walk over to the front door to let myself in.

  I let myself in and stand and listen to see if I can hear any voices, but it’s silent. I go into my room to dump my bag and take my shoes off before I head upstairs to make myself another cup of tea to have with the bath I’m running.

  Walking into the living area, the first thing I see is glass smashed all over the kitchen, along with what could be a couple of mugs or a plate; I can’t tell with the mess. I scan the rest of the room and see Ryan on the sofa. I’m presuming he’s asleep, but I can see worry lines on his face and the tightness of his shoulders. I step a little closer to him. There’s dried blood on his fists.

  Shit, did he get in a fight last night?

  I walk over to the kitchen, trying not to stand on any of the shards while grabbing the dustpan and brush to start cleaning it up. I just bend down to start when I hear shuffling behind me.

  “Leave it,” Ryan snarls in a harsh voice.

  I turn to look at him, and the expression on his face is the same one from the club last night. His eyes are completely empty. His eyebrows are drawn together, a deep line formed between them, and his lips are turned down in what I can only describe as disgust. He hasn’t moved, though. He’s still on the sofa. Once I’ve had enough time to study him, he turns away from me to stare ahead.

  “I want a cup of tea, and I’m not standing on all of this to get it.” I turn back around to start cleaning it up.

  “You always get what you want,” he says patronisingly behi
nd me.

  I’m gobsmacked. I can’t find any words to answer that remark, so I choose to ignore it. “What happened here?”

  “You ha—”

  Just as he starts to spit his answer back at me, the blonde from last night appears in the doorway. She’s in the same clothes, but obviously fresh from the shower. I stare at her with wide eyes.

  Holy fuck, he did bring her back. A lump climbs up into my throat and tears sting my eyes. I turn around and continue cleaning the mess up so neither of them can see how upset I am.

  “You all set, Holly?” Ryan says as he gets up and walks over to her.

  “Yes, thank you for letting me have a shower. How are you feeling?”

  My back tingles like they’re looking at me after that comment, but I’m too scared to turn around and find out.

  “Like shit, but you really helped. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. You have my number. If you need anything, please call,” she says, making me want to be sick again. “My taxi’s outside.”

  “Seriously, thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you,” he says quieter, but I still catch it.

  After a few more moments, I hear her walking down the stairs, and Ryan flops back on the sofa.

  I finish cleaning up and put the kettle on when I can safely reach it.

  “So, you were going to tell me what happened. Go on,” I prompt.

  “It was an accident,” he says, shrugging.

  “An accident,” I repeat. “Multiple smashed glasses and mugs was an accident?”

  “Yes. I was drunk.”

  “Not drunk enough not to spend the night with Holly, though, evidently.” I can’t help my acidic tone.

  “Evidently,” he repeats sarcastically before turning away and putting the TV on.

  “Okay. Do you want coffee?”

  “No,” he answers abruptly, so I make my tea and get the hell out of there.

  I stay in the bath until it’s too cold to sit in any longer, trying to process my thoughts. Ryan brought the blonde home. The thought makes me feel sick to my stomach, but wasn’t that what I suggested to him a couple of weeks ago? Except I never really meant it. I didn’t want it to happen. I was—still am—too scared to admit my feelings for Ryan.

  What if I’m too late?

  Ryan

  I can’t believe Molly pulled him out of the club. She promised me she was going to change, that she was going to wait to make sure the guy was worthy of her. But there she goes—after what, a handful of dates?—home with him. I feel sick just thinking about it.

  The woman rubbing herself up against me whispers in my ear, “So, trying to make her jealous didn’t work, then?”

  I look down to the blonde, confused. “What?”

  “I said, trying to make her jealous didn’t work, then? That was what you were trying to do, right?” She looks at me, dead serious.

  “Uh, I guess, yeah. But why would you...?”

  “I came with my friends, like you. Also like you, they’re all paired up. I wanted someone to dance with who wouldn’t want in my knickers, so when I saw you pining over her, I thought you’d get me what I wanted: a dance with a hot guy. And I might actually help you out in the long run. I’m sorry I didn’t.” I just stare back at her in disbelief.

  “I can’t believe you would do that. You don’t even know me.”

  “I’m a good judge of character, and it’s telling me you’re a good one. I just saw an opportunity to help, so…”

  Wow. “Do you want a drink, um…”

  “Holly,” she adds. “Yes, that would be good.”

  “I’m Ryan. Come on.” I place my hand at the small of her back and guide her to a quiet section of the bar. Once we have drinks, Holly points over to a booth in the corner.

  “So, I…uh…sorry, you’ve just taken me totally by surprise,” I say to Holly. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  She shrugs her shoulders in response and has a sip of her drink.

  “But you let me kiss you?” I’m still completely baffled by her.

  “Was her face as good as I pictured?”

  “Uh, yeah, actually, it was pretty good, apart from it made her whisper in her bloke’s ear and then drag him out of the club. Didn’t quite have the desired effect.” I put my elbows on the table and drop my head into my hands.

  I end up getting so drunk I can barely walk, so Holly has to escort me home after telling her mates where she’s going.

  There’s a small part of me that’s hopeful I’ll find Molly asleep in her bed when I get home, so as soon as I stumble into the hallway, I go straight for her room and fling the door open. Nothing.

  The image of Molly dancing with Adam won’t leave me. I end up pacing the living room, but every time I close my eyes, all I can see is her grinding against him and kissing him.

  “Argh!” I growl, before planting my fist into the wall of the living room, then the other one for good measure. The pain takes away my thoughts of them for all of five seconds. I walk over to the kitchen and sweep the glasses and mugs off the draining board, watching them crash to the floor, breaking into shards—just like my heart.

  “I fucking love her. Why can’t she see that? Why?” I cry.

  After showing Holly up to my bed, I get myself settled on the sofa with the blanket Hannah and I bought together. I really don’t need those memories, too.

  I must have fallen asleep at some point because, the next thing I know, I’m looking up to see Molly’s arse as she’s bent over, about to sweep up the mess in the kitchen.

  “Leave it,” I growl at her, a little harsher than I intended.

  She turns to look at me and it feels like a knife is pushed right though my heart. She looks like she had a late night. I try my very best not to think about what that entailed.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Molly

  Seven Weeks Later…

  The last few weeks since Ryan went back to work have been bloody awful. Ryan’s done his best to avoid me at all cost and seems to spend way more time at school than he needs to. I miss him terribly; the house is so empty and quiet without him.

  Everything else has pretty much continued as normal, and although I’ve pretty much decided my relationship with Adam isn’t going to go anywhere romantically, we’ve still been hanging out. He’s a good guy, and I like spending time with him.

  Megan and I are still loving our pole dancing lessons, so much so that we’ve signed up to a slightly more advanced class. Tonight is the first one, and I’m a little apprehensive. I’ve also taken up a life drawing class on a Wednesdays at the local college. It’s an eight-week course, and next week is the last one. I’m really going to miss it. Ever since talking about it with Ryan when we were on holiday, I kept thinking about giving it a go again. We’ve had a range of models we sketch throughout the classes, and it’s been exhilarating to do something I always loved so much. We can submit any of the sketches we’ve done in class, or one we’ve done outside, if we wish, to an end-of-course competition. I know exactly what—or who—I want to submit, but it’s just a case of convincing him.

  “Oh, come on, please,” I beg with my best puppy dog eyes and pouty lips.

  “Molly, stop it with the face.” He laughs at me.

  “I’ll buy you anything you want. Well, within reason. I’ll ply you with alcohol if it will help, and I’ll feed you. Please. You’ve seen my work; you said yourself that it was good. I promise I won’t make you look hideous!”

  “I know you’re good at it. That’s not the point!” he argues, shaking his head.

  “Well, what is the point, then? I’ve spoken to Abbi, and she’s totally fine with it as long as she can have a copy!” The connection Abbi and Jax had that very first night is still going strong. He’s been spending most of his weekends up in Manchester with her.

  “Ugh,” Jax groans.

  “Why me? Why not Ryan? His body is better than mine.”

  “Because I’m desperate to s
ketch those tattoos, and Ryan’s still avoiding me. Man up and get naked for me. It’s art; you’ve done it before.”

  “Let me ask you something. Would you do it for me?”

  I answer without hesitation. “Yes. Come on, I’ve promised already, you can cover up your junk.”

  “I knew taking this job was a bad idea,” he groans, shaking his head.

  “Stop being a pussy, Jax.”

  “Right, fine, but you seriously owe me one.”

  “Yay!” I say, jumping up and running over to hug him. “Thank you, thank you!”

  “You knew I’d cave eventually. I couldn’t listen to you anymore. It’s all you’ve spoken about for days.”

  “Okay, so you’re busy tomorrow, right? But can you do Sunday?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Brilliant. So, come over to mine in the morning. I’ll have everything set up and ready to go, so we can get straight to it.”

  “At yours? Won’t Ryan be about? I don’t want him watching. It’s bad enough you’ll be staring at me.”

  “He’s still keeping out of my way. Plus, he won’t want to look at your naked arse. He’s still unconvinced about your relationship with his sister. He doesn’t need to see what she sees during your dirty weekends.”

  “He needs to chill out.”

  “You don’t need to tell me that.”

  I climb my aching body up the stairs in search of a glass of wine after pole dancing. I was right to be apprehensive about it. It was so much harder than our Monday night class. It doesn’t help that I landed on my arse a good couple of times, much to Megan’s delight.

  To my surprise, Ryan’s sat in the living room, watching telly. “Are you okay?” he asks, looking concerned.

  “Yeah. Megan and I started a more advanced dance class tonight. It was definitely more advanced. I need wine and a hot bath. I’m sure I’m not going to be able to move tomorrow.”