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The next day, I asked Ryder about taking me to his place.

“Just one tiny peek,” I said, fixing my hair in the mirror.

“It’s messy.” He smiled.

We cleaned up our breakfast from the kitchen, and walked outside. The brisk air was cold against our skin as we hurried along to the subway platform.

“Are you nervous?” I asked as I watched him quietly stare out the subway window.

“Not nervous, just anxious.” His eyes shined as he spoke.

I didn’t like that he felt anxious, or anything. I wanted him to be comfortable to share his life with me. I wanted to push him further, but kept quiet. Maybe another time. We have time to share. Right? This isn’t ending anytime soon. I hoped.

A little while later we stood in Brooklyn, in front of a large brownstone and gazed up at the many windows.

“This place is really nice,” I said as he led me up the stairs.

“Yeah, I guess.”

It’s like he took it all for granted. Like he wasn’t pleased with where he lived. Again, my mouth was shut not questioning anything. Just happy to tag along.

He let me into his apartment, and I glanced around. Not much life dwelled here. Just random photos on the walls of nothing in particular. Is that a car in one?

“It’s nice,” I said, moving closer to the gray sofa.

“Want a tour?”

“Yes, please.” We sounded too formal, and I could tell he was nervous. I wondered why.

He led me around his stiff apartment. His master bedroom was all gray walls and white sheets. No real personality of anything.

At work Ryder was always laughing, he was the life of the party. But, here in his home it was different. A vacancy of himself exuded.

“This place doesn’t really seem like you.” I poked at the little green plant on the windowsill of the kitchen.

“It’s not. My mother decorated it. She felt this was how I needed to live. She says this is the house of a grown-up.”

“Oh.”

A grown-up, right. Yeah, I didn’t think I fell into that category either. Yet, I was grown. My apartment with the purple frilly comforter, and posters hanging around my room was all me.

When did society enforce a grown-up standard?

“Is that why you avoid it?”

“I just can’t grow up. Not like Peter Pan or anything. I feel like I can’t uphold the standards she has for me.”

I sat on the couch, and he sat next to me. “I know what you mean.”

“Do you? Like, after the war everyone expects me to just fall back into the swing of things and follow suit. But it’s hard.”

“No, I get it. My parents are always bugging me about college and getting my life on track.”

He scrubbed a hand against his jaw. “I just don’t think I can do it. Life is so fragile. I realized that overseas.”

“Yeah.”

“I had a friend Timothy. He was great, from Illinois. He used to laugh a lot. At anything. You say a joke, he’d laugh. Even if it wasn’t funny.”

I smiled. “That’s sweet.”

“He was killed in the line of duty. And I realized life is short. It could all be over in the blink of an eye. And then what are you left with. A life that didn’t mean shit.”

“Once it’s over it’s over.” I knew what he was getting at. And yeah, I agreed.

I didn’t want to be doing something I hated, just so one day I’d look back on my life and it’d be over.

“Yeah.” He leaned his head back into the couch.

“So, what do you want to do with your life?” I asked.

He opened his shining eyes and gazed at me. “I want to help people.”

“Help them how?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe counseling war veterans.”

I study him for a moment. “I think you’d be good at that.”

“You do? Why?”

I leaned over, planting my lips on his cheek. “Cause you’re a caring guy underneath all this bravado.”

“You think so?” He laughed. He used his fingers, tickling me along my ribcage as I squealed.

When he stopped, his eyes held a hint of sadness but it quickly was replaced by lust.

He lowered his head, capturing my lips with his. I opened my mouth to him. He kisses so good.

It moved me to want to be a better person. To make him see that I want to help him in his quest of finding himself.

As he kissed me, I made a vow to never let him go. I hoped and prayed he was making the same vow.

He tugged his fingers through my hair and I let out a soft moan. He pulled me closer to his strong body, and I knew I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop.

“Ryder, make me come.” I was so forward, so unabashedly unashamed.

“Oh babe, I’ll do anything you ask.”

I wanted to ask him to be with me. To never stop. To move in with me permanently. But, I continued kissing him as he laid me back against the couch.

His hand was up my shirt in no time. His mouth following right behind. He sucked down along my nipple, and I yelped in delight. He threw my shirt off, and unsnapped my bra.

His eyes dug into mine as I felt my body build with heat. I didn’t want him to stop.

I ground my hips against him, and unzipped his zipper.

“Fuck, Helena,” he groaned.

He tugged his shirt over his head, showcasing all of his yummy muscles, and I tried not to drool.

After all the clothes were off, and the condom was set in place. Ryder took his sweet time making me come over and over. All night long.