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"Why did you come back, Ryan? I know you had a no-trade clause."
"Been following my career, have you? Come on, Em, you must know why I asked for a trade to Toronto."
Ryan asked to be traded?I had no idea. Rumours said the Rebels decided to go into rebuilt mode and trade away assets for younger prospects.Why, why, why would he ask to be traded to the Northmen?I don't want to ask aloud because I am afraid of the answer, but I can't help myself.
"Why?"
"Because we have unfinished business, Em," Ryan says, repeating the phrase he used during his interview. His clear blue gaze locks with my brown one. I'm afraid he can see right through me to the truth.
I still love him.
"You said we were too young. You said we needed to go out and experience the world. Well, I've done what you asked, and I'm done wandering. I was done seven years ago. Nothing's changed. I've come back for you, Em, and I intend to make you believe we belong together.”
4?
Fake News
Ryan
It takes all my willpower to stop myself from pulling Em onto my lap. My entire body is humming with wanting her. It's been that way since I saw her in Luke's kitchen. She looks amazing. Just like I remember, only better—which is a challenging feat considering I've fantasized about her for seven long years as perfection incarnate.
There are slight differences. She's more polished than I recall. Her hair is straighter and longer, with varying shades of blonde woven throughout. Her eyes are still light amber, not quite brown, and her lips still turn up at the sides when she's thinking too hard. Her body's matured. She's grown into an even more stunning woman with the best pair of tits I've ever seen, and in LA, there's never a shortage of tits of all shapes, sizes, and materials. Her curves are a little more generous—more womanly than girlish. She's a flat-out bombshell.
And I appear to have rendered her speechless.
"You don't know what you're talking about," she says as if I haven't thought of this moment for over two thousand five hundred and fifty-five days.
"I do, Em. I want you, and I think you still want me."
"You're wrong."
A flash of worry passes over her face. Em never was a good liar.
"You just got out of a long-term relationship, Ryan. I'm not going to be your rebound girl."
I want to tell her the truth about Tyra, but it's not my secret to tell. Very few people know Tyra's gay, and the last thing I want is to hurt her.
Sighing, I run my hands through my hair, gripping it at the roots, wanting to pull it out. I knew this wouldn't be easy. Em is holding something back from me. She's hiding something, and this approach is not working. I need to change tactics.
"You're right. I won't rush you," I say. "But I've missed you, Em. We used to be so close. I miss that. Can't we be friends?"
Something like indecision flashes across her face. She knows as well as I do that being "just friends" will never work.
"Of course," she says with a smile. The look is so earnest I almost think she believes it. "We'll be working together after all. There's no reason anyone needs to know about our past. We can be professional about this."
"Okay, agreed. On one condition."
Em shoots me a look from across the couch, encouraging me to lay down my terms. She's nervous, and her tongue darts out to moisten her lips. A bolt of desire zaps through me, straight to my dick. I want her so badly it hurts. She absently runs her hands over her neckline, reaching for a chain or necklace under her shirt, but then stops herself.
"One kiss," I grin. "For old time's sake."
Em stares back at me, wide-eyed with desire. I know she wants to say yes, but she's warring with herself. Her emotions have always played out over her face like a movie. She has a terrible poker face. Cautiously, as if checking for witnesses, Em glances around the room and licks her lips again.
"Just one?" she asks skeptically, and triumph roars within me.
"Just one," I lie.
I slide closer to her. Close enough that I can feel her heat and see the rapid pulse of her heartbeat through the vein in her neck. I cup her face with my hands, brush my thumbs over her cheeks, and just stare at her for a few moments trying to memorize her face. This close, I can see the tiny freckles that dot her nose and cheeks. In the summer they become bolder, darker, as if daring me to kiss each one.
