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Chapter 12
Danica
“Thanks for the sign.”
“It smells goodin here!”
I look up from the island with a smile when Ryan shouts over the music after I set the lasagna down on the counter. I’m not even embarrassed that he caught me dancing and singing as I pulled the pan from the oven and walked it over here. Butterflies flap around in my stomach as I pull off the oven mitts, just like they have each time he’s walked in the door at the end of the day. Except tonight, they’re flapping around in there like they just snorted lines of cocaine.
“I’m just gonna go change!”
I laugh when Pink’s “So What” ends right when he starts shouting to me, making him yell at the top of his lungs in the quiet room.
“I just thought the neighbors should also know I’d like to change,” Ryan says in a normal voice, laughing with a little bit of embarrassment. “How was your day?”
“It was going great until my father called a little bit ago.”
I don’t know why I blurt that out, other than the fact that Ryan just makes me want to tell him everything, because I know he’ll understand.
He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to continue. There’s no way I want to ruin my good mood and how happy I am that he’s home by elaborating right now, so I quickly shake my head at him.
“It’s fine. It’s the first time I’ve spoken to him since I left, and it didn’t go very well. I don’t want to bore you with the details.”
Ryan opens his mouth to say something, but the silence in the room is quickly filled when a new song starts to play. Usually, I turn off the music on my nights to cook dinner right when I see him walk through the door so we can talk without shouting, but one of my favorite songs just came on. I’m not ready to turn off the music yet, and besides, the lasagna needs to cool before I can cut it.
Quickly rounding the island when Ryan starts to head toward the hallway, I stop him by grabbing both his hands and tugging him back into the kitchen.
“Nope! We’re gonna dance it out first!” I shout to him, starting to jump up and down and swing his arms with me as I sing along.
Ryan laughs as he shakes his head at me, but his knees start bouncing, and he gives my hands a squeeze.
“I can’t dance!” He continues to laugh, yelling over the music and my singing.
“No one dances to ‘Just a Girl’ by No Doubt. We just jump around and bang our heads!”
Ryan immediately gets with the program, jumping up and down with me in his kitchen, whipping his head all around until I’m laughing so hard I forget the words to the song.
He really can’t dance, and he has absolutely no rhythm, but I love that he didn’t even hesitate to let loose and have a little fun with me. I laugh even harder when he starts belting out the song with me, shouting about being a girl, as we jump around in a circle. Halfway through the song and our mosh-pit dancing, he lets go of one of my hands to spin me around with the other, making me trip over my feet as I go, until Ryan has to quickly wrap one of his arms around my waist to steady me before I fall.
We’re still laughing until I realize he’s holding me against him. The hand he spun me with is still gripping mine, and our joined hands are wedged between our bodies and resting against his chest, along with my other hand that smacked against him as soon as he quickly pulled me into him. We’re pressed together from our stomachs to our thighs, staring at each other while we try to catch our breath from the dancing, while the music continues to play. My eyes flicker down to his mouth when his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and I swear I feel the vibration of a groan come out of him against my hand on his chest.
My eyes move back up to his to find him studying me, and I can’t tell if that’s panic I see on his face that I haven’t pulled away yet, or excitement.
The song continues to play, and still, neither one of us moves. The cokehead butterflies in my stomach are trying to claw their way out at this point, and my heart is beating so fast I’m certain he can hear it. He smells so damn good, and his arm around me feels like heaven.
This is it. Time for me to stop being a wuss, take my chance, and see what happens.
I start to push up on my toes and close the distance between us, when the No Doubt song ends. A slower, quieter one starts to play, setting the perfect mood for me to kiss this man again.
“When are you going back to Chicago?”
Ryan’s sudden words when I’m a few inches away from his mouth feel like someone just poured a bucket of ice water over my head. My feet immediately drop back down to flatten on the ground again, wondering what the hell he’s talking about.
“What?” I finally manage to spit out after a few seconds.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I think it’s time,” he quickly continues. “It’s not good to just ignore your problems. Your family is really concerned. They love you, and they just want you to come back. I mean, Tristan is a jerk, but he cares. And your dad called you today! That’s gotta be a good sign that he wants to work things out. I promised your brother I’d help get you back home, and I know if we just discuss it, and you let me help you, we can fix this mess and get your life back on track. I’m sure that, together, we can come up with a way to get them to be more understanding about you being an artist.”
The butterflies in my stomach die a quick, painful death with every word he speaks, until nothing but nausea is left behind.
