* * *
For dinner, we went to Pearl Street and stopped at the West End Tavern for hamburgers. I wanted to get to know Ryan better but was afraid of asking something he wasn’t comfortable answering. We needed a safe word for when we weren’t having sex instead of when we were.
“If you could do anything you wanted … if money was not a problem … say you won the lottery … what would you do?” Ryan asked.
“Hmm, that’s a tough question. I’d have to think about it.”
“Nope, no thinking. What’s the first thing that came to your mind?”
No amount of money would matter unless you had the right person to share it with, was the first thing I thought, which was completely out of character for me and not something I wanted to share with Ryan.
“I guess I’m lucky. I’m pretty much living a life I love. I love what I do and where I live. Although I wouldn’t mind a house in the mountains. “Oh! I know what I would do …” I said. “I volunteer on occasion at the local animal shelter; I adopted Sierra from there when she was just a puppy. If money were no object, I’d build a big ranch for the dogs, somewhere they could run and play. The conditions at the shelter suck. The dogs have no real room and are in cages most of the time. The shelter does the best they can, but in real life, money is an object.” I suddenly felt sad.
Ryan took my hand and smiled. “That’s pretty cool. On both accounts. Being happy with your life as it is and the fact that if you could do anything, instead of traveling the world or buying shit, you’d help make a local shelter better for animals. I also like the idea of a house in the mountains.” His eyes flickered mischievously.
“Turnaround is fair play. What about you? What would you do?” I asked.
“Build a time machine.”
“What?”
“Just kidding. I’m a Sci-fi nerd. Although, if it were possible to build one, it would be pretty cool.”
“No, let’s go with that. If you could build a time machine, how far back would you travel and would you change anything?” I asked.
Ryan’s eyes sparkled. “That’s where the fantasy ends. If you altered something in the past, then you would also impact everything touched by that event, drastically changing the present. That’s where the whole time machine thing gets fucked-up.” He laughed. “You can’t change the bad things in the past without it fucking up the good things in the present.”
“So wouldn’t the answer be not to change the past, but somehow make it right in the present?”
Ryan looked at me more serious now. “Ideally, yes. You’re pretty smart for a young’un.”
"Young’un? I’m not that much younger than you. Oh my God, I don’t even know how old you are. How old are you?"
Ryan laughed. “Last night, you said you didn’t have any other questions.”
I waded up my napkin and threw it at him. “I don’t think your age is going to give away whatever dark secret you’re hiding. And remember, no more lies.”
Catching the napkin I had thrown, he said, “Thirty-one. Em, I keep my promises. I won't tell you any more lies. When you ask a question, be sure you want to know the answer.” He tried to sound like he was joking, but I knew he wasn’t.
I already believed he wouldn’t lie, and I had also already found myself not asking questions that might tell me more than I wanted to know.
He changed the subject. "Did you need a college degree to become a programmer?”
“It’s not necessary. There are a ton of books out there to teach you the languages. But I did get my BS in Information Systems at CU in Denver.”
Ryan smiled. “CU? Good school. I went to CU for a business degree here in Boulder.”
“Here?” I was surprised. “When? What made you choose Boulder?”
The waitress brought our bill. Ryan paid, and we headed for the truck without him ever answering my questions. I was getting good on knowing when not to push for answers.
I believed Ryan was more than a hard body, gorgeous face, and terrific lay. I always enjoyed our conversations. However, what I learned about him, outside of our bedroom antics, only happened in small bits and pieces—and I was left to fill in the gaps.
On the way back to the house, my phone went off. It was Char again. I didn't answer it.
"If you don't call her, she's going to report you missing to the police," Ryan joked. He might have been joking, but it wasn't out of the question.
"I know. I will when we're back at the house. Just not sure what I’m going to tell her."
"Chicken shit. Tell her the truth."
"She will ask me all the things I'm not asking you."
"Tell her I'm a drug dealer on the run from the Feds."
I looked at him in horror, "Ryan are …"
"Seriously, Emma? I understand it is hard to believe me under the circumstances, but you are going to have to if we are going to continue. Remember the things you asked. I'm not fucking anyone but you, and I'm not involved in anything illegal. You have my word."
I nodded. He was right. If I was in this, I was in it. Playing by the very rules I created.
Back at the house, I called Char and listened patiently while she spent five minutes lecturing me about friendship, caring, and how I scared the hell out of her. She was pissed that I didn’t pick up my phone, especially since she wasn’t sure if Randy came with me.
I knew she was right. If the tables had been reversed, I probably would have driven up the mountain to Boulder to find her.
I took a deep breath and told her the truth. When I told her I was with Ryan and not to worry, she really let me have it.
"What? Are you crazy? Did you know all along that you were going hiking with him? I insist you at least get his fucking last name!" Her voice rising with each sentence.
I was surprised to hear Bob's voice in the background. "Back off, Char. If Emma wants to spend time with Ryan, let her be. He seems like a decent guy."
"We will talk about this later. In the meantime, be careful and call me once you're home," she said, a bit too gruff. Bob was about to get an earful. I hoped he at least enjoyed the Rockies game with Brandon.
I was relieved the conversation was over, but I couldn't help wonder about Bob defending Ryan. It was unusual for him to offer his opinion when it involved Char and me, especially if it wasn't what Char wanted to hear. I'm sure it was just guys sticking together; they appeared to have hit it off.
Ryan walked in. "I see you survived your conversation with Charlotte. Ready for me to whip your butt at a game of pool?"
"As if!" I said, giggling. I sucked at pool, but I planned to distract him with a few well-placed shots bending over the table.
He racked up the balls. "What are we playing for?"
"Oh, we're making this a game of stakes, are we?"
"Of course," he said, his eyes traveling over my body and the pool table, not trying to hide the perverted thoughts going through his mind.
"I win you are in my debt and must do whatever I say for the rest of the night."
Like I haven't already?
"And if I win, you, sir, are at my mercy and must do whatever I say!"
"Sounds like a win-win for me. Deal."
"Deal," I agreed.