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This wasn’t a man who maybe kind of sort of felt something for his best friend.
This kiss was from a man who, at the very least, was attracted to the woman in his lap—even if she maybe ran hot and cold and gave major whiplash over the last twenty-four hours.
Curiosity won out, and I moved from sitting sideways, to straddling his lap.
The second that my core came in contact with the hard ridge of his erection, we both gasped. Rather than the kiss stopping though, Ryan took it deeper.
I wanted his hands on my skin.
I wanted my hands on his skin.
Frantically, I dropped my arms to try and work his shirt up and off, but that seemed to be the magic button to get Ryan to snap back to present.
“Savannah.” My name was said on a groan, and when I tried to push through and kept working on his shirt, he moved his hands from my ass to cover my hands, effectively halting my movements. “Savannah.”
My breathing was labored and through parted lips. I fisted my hands in the material of his shirt, but was growing nervous.
Licking my lips, I fought to maintain eye contact.
“What...what is this?” His question was soft, but nothing changed—he was still hard and his pupils were still dilated.
“I, um.” I swallowed hard. “I...”
I couldn’t get the words out. On one hand, the “mistake” angle was on the tip of my tongue, but on the other, that Positive Polly who made her voice known this afternoon was urging me to stay. To fight for what I wanted.
Ryan didn’t force words from me, and the longer our eyes stayed locked, the more my nerves settled and the stronger I felt.
This man was aroused.
He was attracted to me.
It didn’t matter than I pushed and fought; he was still here for me.
And he wasn’t pushing me away.
If anything, he was holding me secure in his lap.
“I’ve been stupid,” I whispered, the moment the words entered my mind. For once, I didn’t think about what I was going to say before I said them.
For the majority of my life, every word out of my mouth had been thought over to death, and—like Ryan said—filtered with negativity.
This speaking before thinking was new, but I was starting to think it could be freeing.
“I’ve let my fears put a huge wall between us, when you’ve never done anything to truly deserve it.”
“Savannah—”
I shook my head and wiggled one hand from his, and put it on the side of his neck, my thumb resting on his jawline. “What would life have been like if I didn’t run scared?” I wondered aloud.
This time, Ryan shook his head before surprising me—keeping his eyes on mine, he turned his in toward my hand and kissed my thumb. “Don’t do that. You can’t do the what if game.”
He sounded like my therapist. “Who taught you that? Your mom?” I asked with a small smile.
His mom was one of the most wonderful women I’ve ever known.
Ryan smiled against my thumb before turning his face back to mine. “She’s a very smart woman, but I think it was actually you, after your mom left. From your therapist.”
“Makes sense.” I let my hand drop from his neck but rather than just land in my lap, Ryan took it in his and squeezed.
“Can I watch something with you?” His question was paired with an unsure look on his features, and my go-to response was to freeze.
For my walls to go back up.
And of course, he sensed that.
“I want to explain some things to you,” he said, squeezing my hand again and holding it tight, “and I don’t want you to doubt my actions or things that I say. Today, tomorrow, in the future. And I think I have a way to show you you’ve been the one on my mind. I was watching last week’s episode, and I think you maybe missed some things.”
I wanted to trust my gut.
And my gut was telling me that I’ve trusted Ryan this many years; I could continue to trust him now. So I nodded, hoping that whatever he would show me wouldn’t hurt the fragile pieces of my heart that were only now starting to mend.
