Page 28 of Don’t Look Back

“It’s open,” I called out.

The door crept open and Ryan slipped inside the room. “Did I wake you?”

“No. Are you okay?”

“I’m cold. Do you have another blanket?”

Of course I had blankets. I had so many fucking blankets. Grace and her throw addiction had been the bane of my existence for our entire relationship.

But I had a better idea.

I patted the empty bed next to me. “Come here.”

Ryan’s eyes widened briefly, but he advanced into the room. “Are you sure?”

No. “I’m sure. Get over here.”

Ryan climbed into my bed, cautiously, like he was trying not to startle me. I relaxed onto the pillows, curling my arm behind my head. Ryan eyed the empty spot on my chest. “Come on,” I encouraged. “I won’t bite.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Boy, you’re shivering. Lay down.”

With a weak smile, Ryan laid himself on my chest—and both our bodies sagged with relief. I pulled the blanket over us and closed my eyes.

“Are you warm enough?” I whispered.

Ryan nodded, sniffling. “I’m sorry. I… guess it’s been awhile since I’ve been with someone like this.”

“I’m here for you as much as you are for me. You know that, right?”

Ryan twisted, resting his chin on my sternum. “I do, but we have a lot to talk about. We can lay here all day in your cozy bed under warm blankets and pretend that last night never happened, but it did. We have some choices to make.”

My body tensed, but my brain protested when Ryan sat up and took the blanket with him.

“I don’t feel like talking anymore,” I said. “Between you and Grace and Charlie, I don’t even know what words are at this point.”

“I understand that, and I’ll give you all the space you need, but you’re not the only one with feelings involved anymore. If I’m going to be the one to help you through this, I need to know where we stand. And for your sanity, so do you.”

Damn it, he was right, but all I knew in that moment was that I enjoyed kissing him. When he’d curled into my side, I wanted to strap him down and keep him there for good.

Choosing to avoid the conversation entirely—for now—I asked, “Are you hungry?”

Ryan laughed, and the sound was like soothing ointment to a burn. Heat traveled through my veins, warming me from the inside out. “I’m always hungry,” he finally responded.

“I don’t know where you put it all.” I tugged Ryan down again. He howled with laughter as my gentle touch tickled his ribcage. Forgetting myself, I playfully lifted his shirt.

He immediately snatched it down, but I knew it wasn’t because he was self-conscious.

“Let me see.”

Reluctantly, he released the hem of his shirt, and I hitched it up to his chest. Bruises dotted across his pecs and curled around his waist. The black and purple set in overnight.

“Do they hurt?”

“I’ve had worse,” he said softly. “I’ll be fine.”

Not wanting to know what he meant by that, I replaced his shirt and rose from the bed, digging a hoodie from the back of my closet.