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Exactly what I thought.
“See my point?” I gave him a small smile and turned to leave, except his warm hand shot out to stop me.
“Henna and I weren’t intimate a single time she was here. From the day I saw you, I didn’t touch her.”
“Wrong. You did touch her, multiple times in front of me—you dry-humped in the pool!” I whisper-yelled, hating how much energy it took from me, hating even more how many cards I was revealing by showing that it hurt as much as it did.
“Bex…” Ryan rubbed at his forehead in frustration.
“Ryan, the couch is great.” I gripped his wrist and squeezed it before letting it drop.
“She sat down there too, you know. Even fell asleep on it once…if you’re going to be all technical about not sleeping somewhere Henna slept.” He crossed his arms, making his biceps pop.
Ignoring how good he looked, how tan and toned…I closed my eyes, blinking away the image.
“The issue isn’t where she sat or slept. The issue is where she slept withyou—probably in little to no clothing.” I shook my head, gaining steam for this conversation because it was probably best that we had it. “Look, I get it. Your life is fun and full, exciting, and you aren’t tied down to anyone. I know you have multiple fuck-buddies you keep on deck for when you’re ready to change it up. But, I’m not that kind of girl. I never have been. I’m not judging you for it—”
“You clearly are,” he snapped, interrupting me.
“I’m not. I just want you to understand that I have to toe this line.”
He searched my face for something before dropping his voice to a whisper. “Why do you need to toe it…why do you care? And who says I even care what kind of girl you are? I’m not trying to date you.”
I closed my eyes tight, pushing past the sting of hearing him say that. I knew he wasn’t. Deep down, I knew hanging out with me and the kids was just some strange phase he was in. The ex-girlfriend, single mother…he was trying it out, but he wasn’t here to stay. I dug deep for the courage to say what I needed to.
We aren’t anything to each other, so it doesn’t matter…
“Trust me, I know you aren’t trying to date me.” I narrowed my gaze.
I stepped closer to him, needing him to truly hear me.
“I have to toe that line for the girl who once planned a future with you, the one who loved you so intensely, so fully she had an entire Pinterest board full of wedding ideas, future house plans, and kids names. She’s still in there somewhere, and she’d never let me sleep in the same bed as one of your ex-lovers.”
We stood in silence as my truth lingered between us. His eyes softened to a gentle cyan blue, the stormy anger now subdued as he considered my confession.
“Fine, if that’s what you really want.” He stood watching me for a second longer before pushing past me into the hall.
I silently followed him, crossing my arms, wanting to hold in the strange hurt that was beginning to bloom in my chest.
He stopped at a closet, pulled it open, and grabbed a clear bag of bedding off the top shelf.
“Here, I can make it.” I held my hands out.
“You’re my guest, Bex…let me set it up for you.” Ryan walked past me, his warm presence both soothing and suffocating.
Not wanting to push him any more tonight, I merely nodded and followed after him. The soft glow of the television cast a little light in the room, guiding our way to the massive sectional couch.
I stood there awkwardly while Ryan opened the bag and pulled all the bedding out. Shaking out the fitted sheet, he began to wrap the edges around the cushions with jerky and aggressive movements.
“You ever stop to wonder why I have so many fuck-buddies, as you called them?” His sharp tone cut through the stifling awkwardness. “You ever think about why I won’t settle down, or why I rotate women, living my life completely unattached?” He grabbed the top blanket and angrily shook it until it was straightened over the sheet.
My throat was tight and uncomfortable. I didn’t want to reflect on any of the things he’d mentioned. I didn’t want to find the root of why Ryan had turned out the way he had, because I knew where the root started. I knew the origin story to his dysfunctional relationship issues, and I still hated myself for it.
He stood, fixing the pillows on top, and then glared at me. Hands at his waist, chest heaving, he turned his anger on me.
“You ruined me, Bex,ruinedme, and you have the audacity to stand there and judge me for my lifestyle? Judge me for having different women I sleep with because I still can’t wrap my brain around settling down with anyone but you?”
“Ryan, I—”
