Chapter twenty-four
It's a little past midnight when I pull into Ryan's driveway. The lights are on up on the second floor. I grab my bag, walk to the side of the building, and up the flight of stairs that lead to his front door. I stand there for a while and think about what Jase told me earlier. Based on what he said, I shouldn't be nervous about Ryan, but I am.
Aside from everything else, this is new to me. The guy I dated in high school hardly counts as a relationship. We barely even knew each other, and he didn't care enough about me to really even pay much attention to me. It was a relationship of convenience; he served as a distraction from my home life, and that's it. Aside from graduation night, we never had much of a physical relationship. I am completely inexperienced, and I know it. The fact that I am almost twenty-three makes it even more embarrassing.
I am startled when Ryan opens the door.
"What are you doing out here?" he asks.
"Umm, nothing. I was just about to knock," I lie.
He takes my bag out of my hand and steps to the side so that I can come in. I walk to the living room but don't sit. I stand like an idiot in the center of the room, not sure what I should be doing. I don't know why I feel so awkward tonight. Ryan was right; we have spent the past two nights together, so why do I feel weird about a third? Maybe it's because I am in his home. How many girls have been here? How many girls have slept in his bed? God, why am I even thinking about this?
He sets my bag down by the stairs that lead up to the third floor where his bedroom is, and starts walking toward me.
"Did you eat?"
"I did before I went to work."
When he reaches me, he wraps his arms around my waist, and the touch alone is enough to relax me a little bit. I clasp my hands together behind his back and lean my forehead against his chest.
Kissing the top of my head, he says, "Better?"
"Mmm hmm," I hum.
"Good. I'm wiped, what about you?"
"Yeah." Driving back from Oregon and then having to work so late, I'm drained.
Taking my bag, we go upstairs to his room.
"The bathroom is right over there," he says, and he points past his large closet.
Closing the door, I lay out my clothes and turn on the shower so that I can rid myself of the smell of coffee. That's the downfall of working at a coffee shop: you leave work smelling like an old pot of coffee.
After drying my hair, taking my sleeping pill, and brushing my teeth, I walk back in the room at the same time Ryan is coming back upstairs holding two bottles of water.
"Here," he says as he hands me one of the bottles.
"Thanks."
Ryan wears a pair of pajama bottoms with no shirt, and when he crosses the room, I notice another tattoo that looks like scripted words that is inked on the side of his ribs. He walks over to the large king-sized bed and starts pulling back the covers. I hop up on the bed and slip under the sheets. Ryan sits next to me, leaning his back against the dark leather headboard. When he lifts his arm to wrap around me, I can finally make out the words of his tattoo:
pain is a reminder
you're still alive
Laying my hand over it, I ask, "What's this for?"
He looks down at my hand and says, "A reminder." He takes my hand off the tattoo and holds it against his chest.
I then notice a jagged scar under the tattoo. I want to ask, but I don't. When Ryan sees what I'm looking at he says, "Like I said, my dad was an ass**le." I shift my eyes to his when he begins talking again. "He was a drunk and liked to take his anger out on me and my mom. I took more of it than she did. The drunker he was, the worse it would get. He was like that for as far back as I can remember. It was all I knew. Then one night, I beat the shit out of him when he was wasted, and when he got in his car and left, he never came back. His car was found wrapped around a tree, and that was it. He was dead."
I'm sure my eyes are filled with horror as I listen to him speak because he pulls me tight and comforts me instead of me trying to comfort him. I am speechless; I can only tighten my grip around him to let him know how I feel. How could I have droned on about how shitty my parents are? I've had it pretty good compared to what he had to grow up with. And Donna, God, I had no idea. She is such a wonderful person. My heart hurts for what they must have gone through.
"You're the only one who knows that, outside of my mom and me," he tells me. He is only giving me more reasons to trust him.
"I feel really stupid. I'm so sorry about complaining about my parents."
"Candace, you're far from stupid. Your parents treated you like shit. They filled you full of misconceptions of yourself and f**ked with your head. Anyone would be devastated. Don't dismiss your pain because you don't think it's worthy. It is."
Raking my fingers through the hair on the back of his head, I pull him down to kiss me. He slides down in the bed and hovers his body over me. He drags his lips from my mouth, across my cheek, and down my neck, taking little sucks along the way. I hold him close to me when he starts trailing kissing across my collarbone. Taking his face in my hands, I guide him back up to my lips. I begin to slip away to a place where nothing exists but us. His soft lips caress mine as we move at our slow pace. Taking one of my hands in his, he laces his fingers with mine and presses my hand into the mattress as I feel myself falling for him even more.
When Jase got back in town, we spent some much needed alone time together. Ryan has been busy this past week with work, and we haven't had much time to hang out during the days. In the mornings, we have been running together. Aside from that, I've been in the studio almost every day and picking up extra shifts at work.