"Candace," Ryan says as he rushes behind me.
I turn around, angry, and shout at him, "Did you sleep with that girl in there? Gina?"
He lets out a deep breath, and I shake my head and say, "Forget it. Just take me home."
I open the door before he can open it for me and hop up onto the seat. It's one thing for me to hear about his past, but to have his past right there in my face, taunting me, is more than I can handle.
When we start driving, Ryan finally speaks up. "I didn't know she was going to be there. When I saw her, I didn't want to say anything to draw attention."
I don't respond. I'm too upset to respond, so I pull my knee up to my chest and shift my body toward the door, leaning the side of my head against the cold leather seat and stare out the window. I want to cry because I'm embarrassed and hurt, but I don't.
"Candace, say something."
I don't.
To be honest, I'm upset with that girl, not Ryan. I know Ryan has been nothing but open with me, so I can't fault him for that. But, it doesn't make it any easier. I wonder if everyone in that house thought I was just another girl like Gina. I hate that thought.
When he pulls into his driveway, I softly say without moving, eyes still looking out the window, "Ryan, I really just want to go home."
He doesn't say anything when he gets out of the car and walks around to my side. Opening the door, he takes my hand and helps me out. I don't protest because I'm too tired to argue with him. We walk inside, and he takes me upstairs to his room.
I stand in the doorway as he walks over to his dresser and starts pulling out clothes.
"Ryan, what are you doing?"
"You're not going home. Here," he says as he hands me a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt.
I stand there for a moment and watch him as he begins to undress, then I turn to go to his bathroom and change myself. Realizing I don't have my pills, I call out for Ryan to bring me my purse.
When he knocks on the door, I open it and thank him when he hands it to me. I quickly brush my teeth, and when I walk out, the lights are off, and Ryan is already in bed. He didn't pull the drapes shut, and the moon casts a muted light through the room.
When I slide under the covers, Ryan instinctively pulls me in, facing him.
"Talk to me," he says with a soft voice.
"I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you, and I shouldn't have snapped at you. I just...I don't like feeling the way she made me feel. It's embarrassing."
"She was nothing to me."
"When did you...I mean...How long ago?"
"August or so."
I sigh and close my eyes, not wanting to talk about this or think about this anymore.
Brushing my hair back with his hands, he tells me, "They were only there to distract me, but when I saw you, you faded everything I needed distracting from."
Opening my eyes, I look up at him and ask, "Did you love any of them?"
"No."
Hesitantly, "Do you love me?"
"I've only ever loved you."
He rolls on top of me, staring down into my eyes. I pull him down, and I kiss him with an intensity I haven't felt before. Crushing his lips with mine, tasting each other, and feeling each other, I grab his hair, keeping him close to me. He trails his hand down the center of my sternum, between my br**sts, over my stomach, and when he reaches the hem of my shirt, I feel the heat of his hand as he slides it up, making my body shudder beneath his. When he cups me in his hand and squeezes, my body bows up to him, and he lets out a deep moan.
"God, I want you," he whispers.
Sitting back on his heels, he pulls me up to him. He reaches down and slowly begins lifting up my top. Raising my arms up, he peels the cloth off of me and tosses it on the floor. He takes his hands and slides them down my sides. "Babe..."
He lays me back down and grazes his lips down my neck and over the thin lace of my bra. I hold tightly onto the sides of his head when he covers my nipple with his mouth and drags his tongue across the fabric. I begin to feel the anxiety build inside my stomach. I can't do this.
When he hooks his fingers under the waistband of my shorts, I clench my eyes tightly shut, panic coursing through me. I choke back a silent sob, and when I open my eyes to stop him, I see a pained look on his face. He's sitting back and slowly brushing his thumb over my tattoo, staring at it intently. His touch is jittery on my skin, and when his eyes shift to mine, I can't take the panic that is still coursing through my body.
I quickly shift up to my knees and throw my arms around his neck, just needing to feel safe in his hold. It takes him a while, but he eventually wraps his arms slowly, almost hesitantly, around me. I grip him tightly, trying hard to not freak out in front of him, and I notice his body trembling under my arms. I don't say anything because I am still so consumed with anxiety and wondering if he can tell how scared I just got when he touched me like he did.
Silently freaking out, neither one of us moves. We cling to each other and let time pass.
Eventually, I feel my heart slow, and I begin to soften in his arms.
"Candace."
"Please, don't say anything."
And he doesn't as he lies us down and pulls the covers over us.
When we wake up the next morning, Ryan is really quiet and seems tense. I notice his eyes are a bit bloodshot, and I ask him, "Did you not sleep last night?"
"Not too much," he says while pouring me a cup of coffee to take with me before he drives me home.