Chapter 8
Last night, Ryker completely infused himself into my mind and wreaked havoc on my dreams. I wasn’t on this planet when his lips departed from mine. I have no idea where I floated off to. The sensations started in my toes, warmth traveling my entire body. The world around me fell silent and all I heard was his breath, my heartbeat, and a throb of desire I didn’t know I craved until it was there. He was overwhelmingly mind-blowing.
I was so anxious all day about the date, scared it would end in an awkward predicament. I expected him to push me past the limits I allow on the first date, but surprisingly, and very painfully, he didn’t. Gentleman seems weird dressed upon him.
There’s something about him that makes me feel safe and extremely comfortable, as if I shouldn’t worry about a single piece of the world as long as he’s around me. I wonder if all the other girls he’s around experience the same feelings?
All the other girls?
The statement swirls in my brain and causes a heaping pile of destruction. I don’t want to split my time with him. I don’t date casually because the thought of the guy I’m interested in having to divide his attention doesn’t appeal to me. I’m a one-man woman and I expect the same in the guy I date. Going out with my guy on Friday and him having another date with someone else on Saturday makes me nauseated.
Exclusivity—it’s important to me. You can thank my momma and my past for that.
Maybe that’s the reason he didn’t take it further? Maybe he had another woman’s scent on him? Could he go from one woman to the next in the very same day? It’s not unheard of.
My heart aches.
I’m screwed. I need to get a handle on this.
I grab my phone and call the one person I know can talk my sense straight—Candice.
“I was wondering how long you were going to keep me in the dark before you filled me in,” she giggles answering the phone.
“I need help. I need someone to sort out my thoughts. Straighten them out. I need someone to tell me I’m overreacting. I need som—”
“Slow down!” she snickers. “I’m assuming it was a damn good date?”
I sigh dreamily. “It was sweet. He took me to Mercy’s, a really nice restaurant.”
She hums. “And then he brought you home and had you in his bed all night?” Her tone is sing-songy.
“No. He kissed me at the end of the date and left.”
“You didn’t make out at all? Let him feel your tits? Did you let him inside your house?”
“No.” I frown knowing what’s about to come out of her mouth.
She groans. “You and your first date rules bullshit. No making out. No sex. This sounds like a middle school date. What the hell is wrong with you? How are we even friends?”
“I really enjoyed it,” I tell her.
“Then I know it was super boring. You don’t enjoy the fun things in life. You’re way too safe.”
I laugh. “I like being safe. One day you’ll wish you listened to me when your va-jay-jay has to be sewn shut indefinitely due to a flesh-eating amoeba.”
She bursts out in a hyena laugh. “Fun doesn’t mean I’m not safe.”
“Well, I like to be seen as a person and not an object.”
“I’ll be any object he wants as long as he knows what he’s doing.” I can picture her twirling her hair around her finger.
“God, Candice.” I drop my head into my hand.
She hasn’t stopped laughing. “Tell me about this kiss. Please tell me it was as great as you’ve described his looks.”
“Impeccable.”
“When are you seeing him again?”
“Monday. He wants to go running again,” I tell her.
“If he’s willing to put himself through the dullness of your boring run, I believe you have yourself a winner. You have to promise me you’ll thank him properly with a wild night in the sack and very soon.”
“Talking to you is arduous,” I tease.
“Yet, you can’t live without me.”
“Speaking of, when are you coming back?” I ask. “New Hampshire isn’t the same without you.”
She went with her parents to Arizona about four months ago to aid with her grandfather’s declining health. He’s a stubborn and sharp-minded man who cherishes his independence. He’s lived alone for the past fifteen years after his wife passed away unexpectedly from a heart attack. Even though he believed he could still take care of himself the latter part of his life, it was clear how frail he was becoming. Unfortunately, even with all the extra help, he passed away.
“If you can find a way to save me, I can get on the plane now. I won’t care how you do it, just as long as it works,” she snorts.
“Aw. But your mom is so nice. It can’t be that bad.”
“First, the men here aren’t worth looking at. Second, Mom had a brilliant idea of individually tagging everything of grandpa’s. And I mean everything. Things she’s going to keep. Items to sell. Things we should donate.” She groans. “I think Dad needs to—”
“Don’t you dare go there!” I shriek in laughter.
“What?” Her tone is coy. “I was going to say Dad needs to take her on a cruise or a nice vacation.”
“Uh-huh…”
“So what are you overreacting about with this guy? You like him a lot, don’t you?” She’s serious now.
“I do. I’m just confused. He’s a gentleman, thoughtful, sweet, kind, but I swear there’s a contradiction. He has bad boy written all over him.”
“Then you need to put that bad boy all over you,” she snickers.
“You’re impossible.” I groan a laugh.
“You’re overreacting and you know it. You’ve probably been sitting there wondering if he’s dating other women. God, you’re your own worst enemy. You always have been. Girl, you haven’t lost your touch since taking your little dating hiatus. You’re not stupid. You know he’s interested. I’m miles away and can tell you it’s you on his mind. Get a grip. Breathe. Enjoy this.”
“You need to hurry home.”
“I’m praying I’ll be home in a few weeks. Which reminds me, I need to go help her with his coins. Do you know she’s going through each piece one by one?”
I giggle. “Have fun with that. Love you.”
“You’re jealous and you know it. Love you too.” She hangs up.
We’ve been friends since fifth grade. We were paired together for a simple science project, back when they were required. I swore my teacher hated me. I was the quiet girl in the corner and Candice was the obnoxious tomboy who sat in the same row as me and lived a few houses down.
Every day for a whole week I went to her house because I knew forty percent of our grade was about participation and she wasn’t participating. She couldn’t care less about it. Most of the days were spent watching her ride her bike and flirt with the little boy next door while I tried figuring out what the heck we were going to do. She shrugged off every idea I had and then wanted to do some stupid experiment involving paper planes. On the last day before the project was due, I figured it out. A lemon battery.
We made an A with not so much help from her.
But that project started something—a beautiful friendship.
She was more daring than me. I was this quiet girl who wasn’t sure of anything, and she was loud and brave. We quickly grew into best friends. She made me venture out and I made her see that quietness wasn’t always that bad.
For fifteen years, she’s been the crazy to my normal.