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There’s nothing exciting, though. Some gum, her credit card and ID, a tube of lipstick, a hair tie, a guy’s phone number (oops, it flutters right out of my fingers and into the wind), her cell phone, and keys.
Just to spite him, I fill a different mug, take a sip, and dang it, he makes incredible coffee! This is so stupid. Ryan doesn’t matter to me anymore. I don’t have a crush on him. I don’t think he’s hot. I DON’T. And I only smelled his suit jacket one time to see what gross cologne a spawn of the devil wears. Okay, I smelled it twice. Three times. FOUR, GOSH!
I roll my eyes. “Of course I do.” I push him out of the way with my hip. I won’t let my hands touch him. They have a mind of their own, and I’m afraid that if they feel his hard body, I won’t be able to pull them back off. From then on, I would have to go with him everywhere, my hands plastered to the six-pack that, no doubt, lives under his shirt.
He hasn’t spoken to me or even glanced in my direction since he started cooking, so I sort of just thought he forgot I was here. But when his eyes find me right away, I realize he never lost track of me once. He’s been just as aware of me as I am of him.
“Don’t make her jump into the cold pool, Ryan. Inch her in and let her see for herself that the water’s fine.” She reaches up and pats my cheek, and it makes my stomach ache from how much the action reminds me of my mom.
“This,” my heart whispers, “is what we’ve been missing.” I relax into Ryan and close my eyes. I don’t care about what’s on the TV. I’m too busy healing as he holds me—sticky skin, threadbare leggings, and all.
I catch myself thinking something that I haven’t thought in a long time. So, this is what happy feels like?
“Tears?” he asks. I nibble my bottom lip and try to keep more tears from releasing. “Ryan, I... Well, I…” I can’t get the words out. I feel them, but I can’t say them. His face is soft as his mouth tilts into a smile, and he pushes the hair back from my face. “I know. You don’t have to say it yet.” Again, such compassion. It disarms me.
“Oh, phooey. It took you just the right amount of time. Some of us need to live through the healing rather than talk through it.”
It actually just makes me wish Ryan had been the one to take me to prom. Wearing this suit. And drenched in this cologne. Never mind, I would have become a teen mom.
However, just because I’m deeply in love with him, and he’s deeply good at loving me,
