a perfect blend of crisp and sunny as Karin and I made our way down to the library, though I was too miserable to appreciate it.
Thankfully, Karin didn't seem to mind my monosyllabic responses and had been chattering on for the past minutes. I was more than happy to let her while I wallowed in my unhappiness.
After Ryland had left last evening, I'd kept my phone close, hoping that he'd text me like he did every night.
He didn't.
I spent hours wondering if I should call him instead, but then why should I? I was still hurting from the freshly-reopened wound that was my father's death, and besides, it was Ryland who made those promises to me in the first place.
I knew I was being immature about it, but at the same time, I didn’t know what else to do. Relationships weren’t exactly my area of expertise.
“He's such a jerk!” Karin suddenly burst, snapping me back to the present.
I blinked. “Who?”
She looked at me accusingly. “You're not listening.”
“Sorry, I am now.”
Karin groaned loudly and dropped her head back as she walked. “It's my professor. Ever since the exhibition night, he's been picking on me for every little thing. I think—no, I know it's because I got the highest sale for my painting, and by an actual buyer, at that.” She scoffed. “He wanted it to be Caleb O'shay. That snob was always his favorite.”
I wrapped my coat tighter around myself, grateful for something to think about other than Ryland. “Are you sure he's singling you out? Maybe he was having a bad day.”
“That's what I thought at first, but it's been an entire semester and it's only gotten worse. It's like I've got this huge target painted on my face.” She made a strangled sound. “Can't believe I used to like his work.”
“Being talented doesn't stop you from being a jackass,” I said. “It probably encourages it.”
“I know, and it's so unfair! Talent should be distributed according to how much a person deserves it.”
I forced a smile. “Cheer up. You'll feel better once you find those art history books you wanted.”
“And you will too, once you get your hands on some dirty, filthy novels,” Karin teased.
I sure hoped so. Now that Ryland had decided to pull back, I needed distractions to take my mind off him.
A hero who wasn't an asshole and kept his promises to the heroine would be a good place to start.
I'd see it as a big middle-finger to Ryland.
“You know what?” Karin suddenly announced. “I think I should own it. I should totally rub it in their faces, and be all, “My painting got bought by the hottest CEO in New York, so suck on that, suckers.””
I stumbled in my step. “Wait. You knew?”
Karin blinked at me. “That Ryland was the buyer? Duh. My painting gets bought by a mystery man who wants to meet you, then three days later, we're living in the luxury apartment owned by a guy we used to know. Not that hard to put two and two together.”
I bit my lip guiltily. “I'm so sorry, K. There was so much going on, and I didn't want to disappoint you.”
“Why would I be disappointed?” Karin asked curiously.
“Because the painting was not purchased by an actual client, per se?” I hedged.
She waved it away. “I'm a bigger picture kind of girl, and anyway, things couldn't have turned out better. It brought the two of you together. What more can I ask for?”
“We aren’t—”
“I can almost see it happening.” Karin held one hand in front of her as if presenting an invisible stage. “Ryland is strolling through the exhibition when suddenly! He sees your portrait painted by the one and only Karin B.”
In a theatrical voice, she sang, “Who is this lovely creature? This beautiful face! I've seen it before, one summer night, many moons ago.”
Groaning in exasperation, I hooked my arm in hers and dragged her back along the sidewalk.
Karin kept right on chattering.
“By the gods, it is her! She looks a wee bit different nae, her face more womanly, and her tits bonnier—”
“Ryland does not speak in Scottish brogue,” I gritted.
“—But ‘tis her, alright. I have to have this painting, and then I will meet with the fair maiden herself, for I have to have her too.”
“Or Shakespearean.”
Karin sighed happily. “I just wish I could’ve seen the way he looked at you that night,” she said, her voice back to normal again but no less dreamy. “He must have been smitten.”
“Yeah, he practically threw a check at me,” I muttered.
“And I'm taking full credit for it,” Karin finished triumphantly. “It's now proven that my portraits are real-life love potions.” She blinked. “Oh hey, I should paint a portrait of myself. Maybe then I'd find The One like you did.”
“Ryland is not The One,” I said, even though my protest sounded weak to my own ears. “We're just…ex-colleagues. Allies. And now we're done and gone our separate ways.”
Karin purses her lips thoughtfully. “That sounds pretty sad.”
It was heartbreaking.
I kept my gaze on the concrete.
“What kind of guy would you settle down with, then?” Karin asked.
“Probably no one,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.
But inside, I already knew who I wanted, and he was an arrogant, bossy jerk who waited in the snow with coffee for me.
Who walked me home every day, listening to my chatter like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
A guy whose glacier eyes warmed only when he was with me, and who knew me better than I knew myself.
A guy who had broken my heart and left before he mended it like he promised to.
“You know how they say that opposites attract?” Karin mused.
“Who's “they”?”
“I dunno. Self-help books? Chick flicks? But if they're right, then it means your true love would be…”
Ryland's smirk flashed into my mind again, and I ruthlessly pushed it out.
“Someone like Gabriel,” Karin finished.
“Gabriel Easton?” I echoed in disbelief. I thought of his perfectly arranged brown hair and blinding pearly whites. “I don't think so.”
“Don't look at me, it's what they say.” Karin stared up at the sky in concentration. “And my true love would be…”
“A rude, unimaginative, selfish dick,” I finished.
Karin beamed at me. “Thanks. That's the nicest roundabout compliment I've ever received.”
“Anytime.”
“Well, if your polar opposite isn't your type, then maybe you'll get along with someone similar. Someone stubborn and proud.” She tapped her chin. “I wonder who that could be.”
I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “You were leading the conversation this entire time, weren't you?”
“Yep.”
“You're so devious,” I muttered.
“Thank you,” Karin said unrepentantly. “Now that's out of the way, let's talk about Ryland.”
“Not a chance.” I strode along at a quicker pace, leaving Karin to jog behind me on her shorter legs.
“Oy, power-walking is cheating.”
“You're cheating. The topic of Ryland is strictly no man's land, but you just had to go there, didn't you?”
“I’m doing it for you!” Karin caught up and turned around to face me, jogging backwards. “Honestly, Allie, I think you're making a mistake.”
“By not dating him?” I stared incredulously.
“By letting pride get in your way. You don't blame him for Dad's death, do you?”
I looked away. “No. He shouldn’t have covered it up, but he was blackmailed into it. It was all Estelle.”
“But you're still angry that he lied.”
“Of course I am! Aren’t you?”
“I was. I still am, actually.” Karin turned back around when she nearly tripped. “But to be fair, but he's trying to make amends.”
“By bribing us,” I retorted.
Another thing?
Ryland had paid off Karin’s outstanding tuition fees, and the student loans we owed to the bank. I hadn’t wanted to take it, but it was Karin’s choice to make, and naturally she said “Oh my god, thanks!” to that.
Though I couldn’t fault her, since I had also taken his bribe.
Even so…
“I'm not obligated to forgive him.”
“No, but you could try. Ryland was just as much a victim as we were. I think it’s tragic if you let this keep on hurting you both.”
You’re killing me. You’re killing me and you don’t even know it.
I wrapped my arms around myself, my chest aching at the memory of Ryland’s anguished expression.
“We're not in a soap, so tragic is a little much here,” I mumbled.
“Maybe,” Karin said, slipping her arm around my waist. “But whatever happens, just know that I’m on your side.”
The pale grey brickwork of the library came into view as we rounded the corner, looming overhead like a mausoleum.
An air-conditioned breeze greeted us as we ascended the steps to the building, bringing with it the comforting smell of leather polish and books.
“I'll call you when I'm done,” Karin said cheerfully, taking off towards her section.
“Take your time,” I called. “I'll be doing some reading.”
I strolled through the massive rooms in the library, taking in the smell of paper, the studious air of the people milling around the place. The architecture reminded me of an eighteenth-century manor in the period dramas, made complete with dark carved wood polished to a high sheen, and towering ceilings painted with colorful murals.
The main reading room was a cavernous hall with rows of long wooden tables that stretched from one end to the other, leaving an aisle down the center for walking.
College students worked on their laptops on either side of me, and while I would have looked on enviously just two months ago, now I felt only anticipation for the future.
Something Ryland had given me.
Feeling troubled, I headed to the business section, running my fingers over the worn paper spines of the thick books, picking out a couple that seemed interesting.
For a second, I thought of texting Ryland to ask for recommendations, but abandoned the idea just as quickly.
If Karin had been right—and she probably was—I should be starting with an apology instead.
I exhaled silently and turned to the romance section to pick out a few more books. When I was satisfied with my selection, I went to my usual corner between two narrow rows of bookshelves in a deserted part of the library.
There, I settled into a plush armchair and buried myself in a novel, taking respite in the pages where only happy endings existed.
Several minutes must have flown by as I read.
I was stretching out a crick in my neck when suddenly, I realized that I was no longer alone in my corner.
Glancing up, I saw Ryland.
The late afternoon light streamed in from the high windows, dancing off his dark hair. His posture was relaxed as he leaned against the bookshelves with folded arms. His piercing blue eyes watched me, capturing everything and missing nothing.
My heart leaped, and for a second I thought he was a part of my overactive imagination.
It wasn't impossible—this place looked like it belonged in another century altogether, with the hushed silence and dark wood and mellow amber sunlight illuminating the dust motes in the air.
But he was here.
And he was here for me.
Ryland pushed off the bookshelf, taking one slow step forward, then another, as if he didn't want to startle me.
But he shouldn’t have worried.
I wouldn't have run from him, because as much as he confused and frustrated me, there was no one else in the world I'd rather see.
No one else I was happier, or more relieved to see.
Because after a night of obsessing over how he'd left, here he was again in front of me.
We weren't over, after all. Not according to him.
I swallowed against my dry throat. “How did you know I was here?”
Ryland stopped by the table beside my armchair, looking down at me with an unreadable expression. “I went to your place, but you weren’t in, so I texted your sister. She was pretty quick to tell me.”
“I'll bet,” I mumbled under my breath. My eyes averted, not knowing what to say—or how to start apologizing.
“How are you?” Ryland asked, as if we had been separated for weeks instead of a day.
“Fine. And you?” I asked lamely.
He shrugged. “Same.”
The coolness in his tone made him seem like a complete stranger. I found myself hating this sudden distance between us, wishing desperately for a way to close it, but not knowing how.
Ryland turned to my stack of books on the side table, and picked up the first one from the pile.
“You're reading about business,” he murmured, flipping through the thick volume.
I shrugged self-consciously. “For the coming semester. And it makes me feel like I can understand my father more.”
It makes me feel like I can understand you.
Ryland nodded slowly, placing the book back down. “I can recommend a few to you, if you want.”
“Thanks, that would be nice—”
I broke off as Ryland plucked another book from the pile, frowning at it quizzically.
“Is this yours?” he asked, angling the book to face me.
The cover featured a topless man.
With a bulging six-pack.
And a bulging crotch.
I blanched.
“Nights with the Arrogant Boss,” Ryland read. He raised a brow at me as if to say Seriously?
“It's Karin's,” I blurted, leaping to my feet quickly. “I'm, uh, holding on to it for her.”
Ryland relinquished the book to me, and I breathed in relief as I stuffed it under the business books.
Then he picked up the next one in the pile.
It was a classic historical bodice-ripper, with the muscled hero and swooning heroine half-naked in a field of pink and purple flowers.
“Trial By Temptation.” Ryland read the title. “You like this shit, huh.”
I loved it.
“No,” I choked. “That’s also Karin’s.”
I’m so sorry, K.
Ryland cracked the book open to a well-worn, evidently much loved part of the book, and began to read in a deadpan voice.
“By the law, I hold you in contempt of being too lovely for your own good. My angel, my sun, if you were a country, I would be your refugee. Over my life you would preside, as judge, jury, and executioner.”
Ryland shot me a look of pure disbelief. “What the actual fuck? That's not how the law works.”
“Is there anything you don't know?” I muttered, snatching the paperback from his hands and tucking it safely behind the business books.
Ryland's gaze suddenly focused on a spot behind me. “What's that?”
I turned to the armchair I was sitting in earlier, seeing nothing out of the ordinary for a second.
Then I spotted the novel I'd been reading.
It was lying on the floor, an incriminating evidence in broad daylight.
“Shit!”
I leaped forward to grab it, but Ryland was quicker. In a single fluid motion, his long arm darted past me and snagged the book effortlessly.
“Give it back!” I hissed.
“The Billionaire Wants All,” Ryland announced in triumph while swatting my hands away. “I think I've found your kink, Allie. Was this the sort of pervy shit you were reading back in San Juan? And here I thought you were nerdy.”
With a sound of desperation, I made a grab for the book, but Ryland dangled it above my head, just beyond the reach of my flailing hands.
“I got an idea.” He grinned devilishly. “Maybe this billionaire is the same guy as the arrogant boss from earlier. What do you think?”
“Stop,” I growled, my cheeks burning with humiliation.
Ryland strolled around me as he held the book high, enjoying himself way too much.
“Honoria moaned in ecstasy as Derek pounded into her pussy,” he read aloud, ignoring my choked sputters. “The pleasure was too intense, too hot. She tried to hold back her moans, but it was impossible; Derek was a genius at sex as he was at software engineering…”
Ryland’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Dude. That's a fucking random thought to have while fucking.”
Ignoring my murderous glare, he continued cheerfully, “...and it was all she could do not to burst into flames on the spot. Denying him was as useless as trying to negotiate a peace treaty with North Korea.”
I scowled as he grinned at me.
“I added the last part,” he said helpfully.
“I know,” I snarled.
“Ah. Familiar with the book, are we?”
“Being a total asshole, are we?”
“Just trying to find out about your interests, Allie cat. Isn't that what friends do?”
“Thanks for your show of friendship. Now give it back.”
Ryland tilted his head, pondering.
“Nah.”
I growled and tried to climb him like a cat on a post, but Ryland backed away, dangling the book above me as he laughed.
He came up against a bookshelf, and I took the chance to grab onto his shoulders and try to hoist myself up.
“Allie,” he choked with laughter. “Relax—”
“Give…it back…” I hooked my hands around his neck and yanked with my entire weight, but I might as well have been tugging on a tree trunk.
We struggled for several moments, him playful, and me frantic with humiliation.
Suddenly, Ryland stiffened, and I looked up.
Our faces were inches apart.
We watched each other for a beat, both breathless, neither one daring to move, as if the moment would be lost if we did.
Then the book hit the floor with a thud as Ryland sank his hands into my hair.
I gasped as he pushed me back against the bookshelf, tipping my head back and crushing his mouth to mine.
There was nothing soft about this kiss. The pressure of Ryland’s lips was painful, rough, urgent, as if he'd waited too long to taste me and finally snapped.
I slid my hands up his chest, feeling the hardness of his abs and pecs, the raw power of his muscles rippling under my palms. I tasted blood as he ate at me.
“Fuck…Allie…”
Ryland whispered my name hoarsely between kisses, like it was a prayer. His arms wrapped around me like he never wanted to let go.
Fisting his shirt in my hands, I pulled him closer to me. Ryland obliged, bending me back as he took my mouth in deep, sweeping strokes. I felt off-balance for a moment, but Ryland's arms were rock-solid as he held me tight against him. His kisses went on and on, one caress after another until I didn't know where one ended and the next one began.
This wasn't kissing.
This was possession.
“Ryland,” I moaned against his lips, relishing the sensations bombarding me.
The stubble on his jaw was scratchy against my fingertips, the hardness of his erection delicious against my stomach. I breathed in his masculine scent mixed with his cologne hungrily. I could pick him out blindfolded in a room full of people.
“So damned sweet.” Ryland eased his urgency, pressing hard, fleeting kisses to my lips, branding me.
I returned them, and soon he began to do it leisurely, taking his time to taste me as if we had all the time in the world.
Here, between the musty bookshelves, I was just Allie and he was just Ryland. The world had forgotten us, and we had melted away into our own annex where no words were spoken but everything was said.
I wanted him.
There was no use denying it. I wanted this guy and all of his arrogance, his bossiness and his secrets.
And if my pride stood in the way of having him, it had to go.
I pulled away from Ryland just enough to look into his face.
Ryland stared down at me, his light blue eyes bright with desire and emotion, his chest working with unsteady breaths.
“What's wrong?” he asked, a little notch forming between his brows.
“Nothing.” I reached up and smoothed it away with a finger. “I just wanted to look at you.”
“Yeah? And what do you see?” Ryland took my hand and pressed the back of my fingers to his lips, then he turned my hand over and rubbed his stubble-roughened cheek against my palm.
I felt a pang in my chest at the intimate gesture.
“I see a guy who has everything,” I said, meeting his gaze directly, “but always wants more. I see a guy who is proud and ruthless, but can be good.”
Ryland planted an open-mouthed kiss on the inside of my wrist, right where my pulse was. I drew in a sharp breath, but his brilliant gaze never left mine as his tongue dipped out, branding the sensitive skin.
“And?” he murmured.
“And I see a man who wants to be loved, but doesn't know how to ask for it.” I wrapped my hand around his, gazing up at him with all the emotion on my face, nothing held back. “A man who deserves it more than anyone else I know.”
Ryland froze at my words.
“I know you too, okay?” My eyes pricked with heat all of a sudden. “I know you're not this perfect, flawless statue you pretend to be. You keep building this… this fortress to keep yourself from getting hurt, but I know who you are behind all that. You can fool everyone but not m—”
Ryland crushed me to him, cutting me with his mouth. He kissed me like it was our last time, like he wanted to steal every kiss I would ever give.
“Allie,” he said in a ragged voice. “I tried… Fuck, I tried…”
Then he gave up, resting his forehead against mine.
“I need you,” he breathed. “I fucking need you. Beside me, under me, around me. I need you in every way, because Allie, you’re already inside of me. Just tell me what to do.”
I looked up at him, letting him see everything I felt for him.
“Take me back to your place,” I whispered.
Ryland's eyes widened at my words, burning into mine fiercely. His arms tightened around me, and I knew that he would never let go of me again.