Page 94 of Until You Can't

Chills darted down my spine at her words.

“I think I’m just . . .”

“What?” I sat taller at the drop of fear that managed to penetrate the phone line. “Has Thomas ever hurt you?” Every part of my body snapped to attention at the idea he’d ever set a hand on Maria.

“No, no. Nothing like that.” She clutched her thick, cotton robe, holding it tight to her chest. “He’s just not the man I thought he was. It’s making me a little nervous about how he’s going to react when I tell him I know he cheated. And that I’m moving out. What if the courts won’t let me get a quick divorce because I don’t have proof of his cheating? Too bad I picked up the call and didn’t let it go to voicemail.” She frowned and began emphatically shaking her head. “I can’t do some year-long separation period with him.”

“Maria, I—”

“Let’s change the subject. Please. Tell me about your first time together. You know, before you were interrupted. Was it a lot different from Anthony?”

I stood and began pacing the bedroom Ryan and I had shared last night. I peeked at the mirror where I’d watched him on his knees, devouring my pussy, not that long ago. The memory rendering me motionless.

We’d had sex. Wild, hot sex. And before we could make love passionately, he’d been taken from me.

“Or do you not want to compare? Is that a horrible thing I asked?” Maria’s question jarred me back to reality, stealing my attention from the echoes of what should have been a night to remember. And still would be, but for very different reasons.

“There is no comparison,” I admitted. “Anthony was selfish in the bedroom, and Ryan’s already proven he’s devoted to putting me first. It’s not what I’m used to, in general.”

“You deserve to be put first,” Maria said softly. “And he’ll be okay. You’ll finish what y’all started.”

“I hope so.” I checked my watch and stopped pacing.

“I still can’t believe Enzo has a private jet on standby in case we need to tell Laura, um . . .” Maria let her words hang, knowing the only reason we’d tell Ryan’s mom anything would be because there was bad news. The kind of news that required her to fly overseas at the last minute.

“Yeah, well, his family has the kind of money to pull off a jet on standby. Money I won’t let him use to help the restaurant.”

“What do you mean? What help do you need?” My sister scooted in her leather seat, sitting taller at my accidental slip about my money issues. Issues which should’ve been the last thing on my mind with everything else happening.

But Maria was right. She needed a distraction from Thomas. I needed one from the helplessness I felt over Ryan’s situation.

“Things are just tight, money-wise, at the restaurant. Typical new-business stuff. And you know Enzo, offering to help at every turn,” I said, doing my best to play it off as no big deal.

“Is that why you wanted to talk to Kate Maddox at the party? The catering idea? Would it help you?”

“Just a business idea. No worries Enzo couldn’t talk to her at the party.” I thought back to our earlier conversation, and the fact Enzo had been the man Calista wanted but couldn’t have. According to my sister, she’d tried to steal him away from her at the party, and he’d verbally knocked the princess from her throne when she’d insulted Maria. Yeah, bad move.

Once again lost in my musings, my heart jackhammering in my chest, I realized I had an incoming call. I stared at the name associated with the number Ryan had given me as a “just in case” before taking off.

Noah Dalton.

“I have to take this. It’s Ryan’s friend.”

“Okay,” Maria rushed out. “He’ll be okay!”

“Yeah, I—I hope.” Fear gripped me as I wondered why Noah was calling instead of Ryan. I switched the call over to him. “Hello,” I meekly answered.

“Hey, this is Noah. Ryan gave me your number. I’m . . .”

No, no, no. I heard the dot-dot-dot in his tone, and I fell to my knees on the hardwoods as I waited for him to continue.

He cleared his throat, obviously struggling with his own emotions. “I was in Ibiza during their, uh, operation in Monaco, and so I’m on my way there now. I’m heading to the hospital.”

Hospital? Hospital means survival but injury, right? “Tell me Ryan’s alive. Please,” I cried in desperation.

“He’s alive, yes.”

“So then why are you calling instead? Is he not capable of calling?” I already knew the answer but needed him to spell it out for me.

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