"I think I'm going to go for a run this morning. Want to join me?"
Paula snorts at me. No matter how many times I've invited her to run with me or workout, she always has the same answer. "Let's see...running or cigarettes? I choose cigarettes."
Giving her a good eye roll for measure, I head to our tiny bathroom to brush my teeth. It's definitely time to move on.
***
Heading out of my apartment, I see the sun has already risen but it's still quite chilly. The decision to wear my light weight running jacket and long pants is smart. I plan on doing five miles today so I will probably be burning up by the time I get back.
Opening the front door to my building, I'm setting the timer on my watch as I jog down the front steps. Not paying attention to my surroundings, I'm brought up short in surprise when I hear, "Hello, Danny."
My head snaps up and I lock onto Ryan's eyes. Even as I feel anger rush through me, I also have a tremor of excitement over seeing him. I quickly take him in. He's standing there with his hands tucked into his incredibly well fitting jeans' pockets. His hair is perfectly mussed and hanging boyishly over his forehead.
"What are you doing here?" I ask.
Even as pissed as I am at him, I'm surprised that the words come out as just merely curious and I'm glad. I don't want him to know he affected me the way he did.
Ryan frowns at me and it's clear on his face that he did, in fact, suspect he'd get anger from me. "I was hoping we could talk."
I look up and down my block, considering if I should just bolt forward into my run. But curiosity is getting me. "How long have you been here?"
"Since about 5:30 a.m."
My eyebrows shoot up. "Hard time sleeping?"
"Something like that," he murmurs. "I wanted to talk to you and I didn't want to miss you coming or going as I didn't know if you were working today, so I just decided to camp out."
That's interesting and should be slightly flattering he would do that to make sure he could see me. But I quickly tamp that feeling down. I will not fall back under his spell, I repeat to myself over and over again.
"Look, Ryan...you don't owe me any explanation or anything and frankly, I'm good. There's nothing to really talk about."
Anger flashes through those bourbon colored eyes. Score one for a direct hit.
"Didn't the other night mean anything to you?" he demands.
I cock my head slightly at him because it's certainly weird that he would be affronted by my lack of interest since he's the one that didn't call me as promised. "Didn't it mean anything to you?" I retort.
He runs his hand through his hair in a measure of frustration. Sighing, he whispers, "It meant more to me than even I suspected. That's why I need to talk to you."
Something about the earnestness in his words melts a little bit of the ice. He's not giving me a line and I sense it is important for him to tell me something so he can ease his burden. Why I am taking it upon myself to let him do so remains to be seen.
I sigh. "Fine. Do you want some coffee?"
"Sure. That would be great."
I turn and walk back into my building with Ryan on my heels. He doesn't say anything but that doesn't stop me from being painfully aware of his presence behind me. There's like a disturbance in the atmosphere when I'm near him.
When I open the door and we walk into the apartment, I take off my jacket and throw it over the back of the couch. He follows me into the kitchen.
I pull out two cups and fill them up. I push his cup toward him and indicate cream and sugar which he declines. Just as he's taking a sip, I hear, "What the fuck is he doing here?"
I look behind me and Paula is standing there glaring daggers at Ryan. Not saying a word, my hand reaches out to her palm up. She turns her glare to me then grabs her purse off the counter, fishing around inside. Coming out, she quietly lays one cigarette in my palm. I stick it under the kitchen sink and soak it with water.
As I throw it into the garbage, I hear Paula say, "Pardon me. May I inquire as to what this gentleman is doing in our apartment?"
I glance over at Ryan and he's looking at Paula like she was the bearded lady in the circus...a mixture of grotesque curiosity and humor.
"He's here to talk for a few minutes. I'm choosing to indulge him." I pick up my coffee cup and walk into the living room. Taking a seat on the couch, I watch as Ryan folds his large frame into an old, tattered wicker chair. Our furniture is second hand and mismatched as all get out. Paula walks right in behind him and sits down next to me on the couch. She's still glaring at him and now he's glaring back at her.
"Paula...it's fine. Give me a few minutes alone to talk to Ryan."
She reluctantly stands up and moves around the coffee table to leave. Pointing her finger at him she says, "I'm watching you, boy."
I can't help but snicker. Paula is five foot nothing and weights ninety pounds soaking wet. But boy can she be scary when she wants to. Ryan does nothing more than give a small nod of his head in her direction then turns his eyes to me.
I settle back into the cushions and take a sip of my coffee, watching him over the rim. He scrubs his hand through his hair which I now see is definitely a nervous gesture. It unsettles me that I immediately take note of how his hair slides forward, lying in gentle waves along the side of his temple and neck. I remember how soft it felt as I ran my own fingers through it not but a few days ago. I sigh at myself. I really need to let the hotness of Ryan go.
Leaning forward, Ryan puts his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together. He looks at me and there is sorrow there. Here comes the apology and I try to steel myself against it.
But I'm caught off guard when he doesn't apologize. Instead, he says, "The morning after our date, I woke up thinking about you. And I was almost giddy with happiness." He gives me a small smile. "Then I went to hockey practice and one of my teammates called you a whore."
I flinch backward from the softness of his voice and the hurtfulness of his words. Why would someone view me that way?
Before I could say anything, Ryan continues,"I beat the shit out of him until he was bleeding all over the locker room floor."
Oh wow. I feel slightly vindicated. "Did you get in trouble?"
Ryan shakes his head while looking down at the floor. Then he drags his eyes back up to me. "At first, I was furious someone would say that about you. My best friend, Mike...he said it shouldn't matter. It only matters what I think about you."
"Sounds like Mike is pretty smart," I muse.
Ryan leans back in the chair, laying the palms of his hands on his thighs. He starts picking at, what I assume is imaginary lint, just to keep his hands busy. "Yeah, he is. But, the fact of the matter remains, that if we date, there are going to be people in my circle that will think that. Some might even say that...right to your face. And...I just didn't want you to have to go through that."
"So you decide on your own that a relationship is not a good idea...to what...protect me?" I'm pissed I didn't get a say-so in this and I'm sure he can tell by the tone of my voice.
Ryan sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He looks like he had a major headache brewing. "Here is where I need to be absolutely honest with you, Danny. Yes, at first my thoughts were solely about protecting you. I didn't want you to get hurt. But then I started realizing that I would get hurt too. Every time you would get hurt, I would hurt as well. And I then questioned whether I was able to make that type of commitment to someone. I'm ashamed to say...I was protecting myself, too. I didn't think I was ready for this."
His words hurt but I also have to admire and respect his brutal honesty. He could have sugar coated this breakup to me but he candidly tells me that he's afraid for himself as well. "I get it and I appreciate the truth. I know you could have given me a dozen lines to help ease your conscience over this."
"I'm glad you understand," Ryan says as he stands up from his chair.
So this is it, the final goodbye.
Except...he d
oesn't head toward the door. He walks right over to me and sits beside me on the couch. As I turn to face him, he reaches out and strokes his fingertips over my cheek. I shiver as the rough feel of them gently caresses me.
"I'm glad you understand that because I expect you to understand this as well. It only took me another two days to realize that I would rather suffer the pain of what others might think than be away from you. It took me two more days to get up the nerve to come here to see you. The only thing I can ask of you is can you endure that with me so we can try again."
I close my eyes as his thumb gently plays along my jaw. I let his words settle into me and I enjoy the warmth they promote...for just a minute. But then I push past it. It's probably a really bad idea to even entertain the notion of a relationship with Ryan.
So far, he has proven to be skittish and apparently runs in a circle of assholes. Do I want to even be involved in this?
I open my eyes and look at him. Before I can even say anything, he leans in and brushes his lips over mine. He moves his mouth to my temple and presses a light kiss there. Then he whispers, "Please. Take a chance."
I pull slightly away from him. I'm wary but I cannot deny that I feel an intense connection to Ryan. It is more than just physical attraction. I sense something in him that resonates with me although I cannot put my finger on it. Am I willing to explore that further to see if it can be identified?
"Okay," I breathe out.
"Okay?" Ryan sounds bewildered.
I nod my head and before I know it, he wraps me in a suffocating hug. Ryan presses his head into my neck and murmurs a "thank you" against my skin which causes my pulse to go through the roof.
Pulling back he looks at me. Cupping both of my cheeks with his hands, he just stares at me with such ferocity that it makes me want to devour him. I lean in to kiss him but he stops me. "I'm so sorry I hurt you, Danny. I won't do it again."
I give him a smile before I lean in to claim that kiss. "Okay. I'll hold you to that."
CHAPTER 7
Ryan
I must be the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet right now. Danny is willing to give us another chance and I feel like I just won the Stanley Cup.
We are sitting on her couch having just finished an awesome breakfast that Paula cooked while Danny took a quick shower. She never did go on her run and I'm glad. I didn't want to miss a minute with her today.
Turns out, Paula's not so bad. She can be scary--terrifying actually--but it's in a protective way for Danny and I'm all for that. Turns out, she had been standing in the hallway the entire time we talked, so she overheard everything. She made a big entrance as we were kissing to let me know that she forgave me too.
How comforting.
At least I can be fairly sure she didn't poison my pancakes.
Paula has left to go to work and we now have the apartment to ourselves. Danny has a rare day off from all of her obligations and we decide to just stay here today and chill out. We have a few days of lost time to make up for and I want to know everything about her.
Danny is sitting on one end of the couch with her back against the armrest and her legs curled underneath her. She's wearing a pair of old, faded jeans that hug her curves just right and sports a hole in one knee. Her t-shirt also hugs her amazing upper body curves and I can't help periodically glancing at the words "Kiss Me - I'm Irish" stenciled across the front of her breasts. She's barefoot and her toes are painted a deep purple color which I find to be incredible sexy.
I'm at the other end of the couch and my legs are extended with my feet resting on either side of her hips. "Okay, first things first...what is Danny short for?"
She laughs at me and it's music to my ears. If I could make a full time job out of listening to Danny laugh, I would.
"Daniella. But no one calls me that. Ever," she says with warning.
"Why not? It's a beautiful name."
She shrugs her shoulders at me. "I don't know. It's always been Danny so that's what I'm used to."
"Fair enough. So what's with the purple hair and piercings?"
She grabs a lock of her long hair, pulling it over her shoulder and looks down at it in reflection. "You don't like it?"
"On the contrary, I love it. I mean, I've never gone out with a girl with colored hair or a nose ring, but I have to admit...it's hot as hell on you. It's what makes you unique. And I'm finding a new fondness for unique things."
She giggles at me. "It's a good thing. Because I wouldn't change it for you."
"And I wouldn't ask you to."
She flashes me a smile that is so genuinely happy, that my breath catches. Her teeth are straight and gleaming white. Her dimples are perfectly etched and her lips could have an entire book of poetry written to them.
Holy shit! I was becoming a fucking dork thinking like that. Still, I had to admit that her beauty had me a little captivated. Okay, a lot captivated.
"How did you get into hockey?" she asks, breaking into my thoughts before they can veer into all the things I would love to have her do with those poetic lips.
"Gosh...let's see. I've been playing since I was about six years old. My uncle played in the NHL back in the 80's and he's the one that originally got me into it. I played Junior Hockey before being recruited to Northeastern."
"Do you want to play professionally?"
I lean forward and grab both of her ankles, straightening her legs out. Her feet rest just short of my crotch, which is a good thing. I pick one dainty foot up and start massaging it, working my thumb into the arch. She gives a little groan and closes her eyes, and holy hell that is sexy. I shake my head to clear my thoughts.
"Yeah, that's my dream. It will go against everything my parents expect of me, but that's what I want."
"Do you always do what your parents expect?"
"Not always but I have a lot of the time."
I don't elaborate but she's not going to let it go. And honestly, I don't want her to let it go. I want her to want to know about me. She pushes on. "And why do you do what they expect a lot of the time rather than what you want to do?"
"My dad is Alex Burnham."
I'm watching her face as I say that and I see the recognition immediately dawn. "You mean Congressman Alex Burnham?"
I nod my head at her. "The one and only. He's so far to the right I keep expecting for him to disappear over the horizon." I know there is bitterness in my voice and she picks up on it immediately. My dad is hot in the Republican party right now and he has his eye on the White House. It's the main reason my parents what to control every aspect of my life. They want the perfect looking family that will survive a media blitz during election time.
"That's a lot of pressure on you, huh?"
"You have no idea. It's always been about what is best for our family's public image. It's about me dressing the right way, having the right education, marrying the right debutante." I pause my ministrations and lay the one foot down, picking up the other. "My dad expects me to go to law school after I graduate."
She's silent for a minute and then she asks, "Do you have any chance of getting into the NHL?"
I realize she has to ask me this because she has no clue if I'm any good or not. I don't like tooting my horn, but I want her honest opinion. "Yeah, I am. I missed entry into the draft last year because I was out most of the season with an injury to my shoulder, but that's fully healed now. I'll be an unrestricted free agent when I graduate. There are a few teams that have shown interest."
She's impressed, I can tell. I feel the need to clarify. "I might not see any ice time and may even have to play in the minor leagues, but right now I am playing some of the best hockey of my life so the recruiters are calling."
"Well, then to me it's a no brainer. If you have even the smallest chance of pursuing your dream of a hockey career, you have to take it now. Law school will always be there but hockey won't necessarily."
She makes it sound oh so simple but she's never had to deal with the fallout t
hat occurs when I go against even a simple wish of my parents. Still, it's a pretty rebellious move dating someone like Danny so maybe I need to continue this trend.
"I'll take that under advisement, Miss Cross."
She smiles at me and we both lapse into a short period of comfortable silence. After massaging her foot for another minute, I place it down. She looks at me with tenderness in her eyes and I flip positions to crawl my way across the couch to her. The look in her eyes turns dark as she watches me approach.
"Mind if we take a break from talking?" I ask.
She gives her head a small shake in the negative which makes me grin at her. She wants my touch as much as I want to give it.
As I move over top of her, she leans back and scoots a little down so she's lying on the couch. I stretch out over the top of her, holding my weight off of her with my arms. We just look at each other and the minute she glances down at my lips, it's all over.
I crush my lips to hers and she lets out a startled moan but she opens her mouth to draw me in. Jesus...she tastes like heaven and I can't stop the groan that is rumbling up from me. A jolt of pure lust shoots through my body and I instantly harden. And she knows it as my hips are lying in between hers. I keep my lower half perfectly still as I don't want to turn into a fifteen year old boy that dry humps his pillows.
I slow the kiss down and explore her mouth more leisurely. This is good because while my lust is in no way cooled down, I am getting back a measure of control. Danny's hands grip my biceps and she flexes her fingertips inward as we kiss. I can't wait for the day when those fingertips will dig into my ass as I'm making love to her, but that day is not going to be today. I do want to take this slow for her. I have no idea what her level of experience is, and frankly, I don't care. I want for both of us to come together when the timing is perfect, and with our relationship so new, today is not that day.
I pull my mouth away and she whimpers, putting her hands around my head and trying to drag me back down.
"Danny, you're not making this easy," I grumble.
She gives me that husky laugh. "Who says I want to."
Oh, God...I'm a goner if I don't put some distance between us. I have never gotten so worked up over a girl so quickly. I press a quick kiss to her lips and stand up from the coach. She has disappointment written all over her face.