I sneak a glance up at him and my breath catches. He is looking at me with such startling intensity that I drop his hand.
"Don't," he rasps. Then he clears his throat. "Don't stop touching me."
I am mesmerized by his look and I think I might go up in flames right now. The hunger in his eyes...for my touch, my approval...is overwhelming. I tentatively pick his hand back up and start touching him as he asked. I feel a connection to him that words can’t describe at this point. I’m sure I’ll spend a lot of time later analyzing it.
I opt for a change of subject to ease the tension.
"So, why do you have all these callouses on your hand?" I realize how that sounds and start snickering. "I mean—that is—if you can tell me in polite company."
Ryan pulls his hands back and snorts at me. He pulls his nachos back over and tucks in. "They're from playing hockey."
"Do you play inter-mural or something?"
His smile at me is one of indulgence. "I play for Northeastern. I'm the captain of our team."
I choke on the swallow of beer that was heading down my throat but is now headed for my lungs. Ryan patiently waits while I hack and cough to clear my throat. He actually smiles at me while he's chewing his food, patiently waiting for me to catch my breath.
"You're the captain of the team? The Northeastern, NCAA, Division I hockey team?"
I can see he's enjoying my shock.
"Sure am. Are you a hockey fan?"
"Uh, hello...born and raised in Boston. Of course, I'm a hockey fan."
Ryan gives me a smirk but rather than want to slap his face, I want to run my fingers along his jaw. He has dark stubble gracing the hard lines and it makes him look dangerously sexy.
"Well, for someone who is such a hockey fan, how come you didn't know I am the captain of your school's hockey team?"
"Touché, Mr. Burnham...touché." I give him a mock salute.
He pops another nacho in his mouth and gives me a wicked grin. "That's Captain Burnham to you." I just roll my eyes at him and take another sip of my beer. This time, it goes down smoothly.
***
Ryan is driving me to my apartment now and I'm brooding over what has occurred. I agreed to go out with him tonight thinking he would be scared away from someone like me. Not that I think I'm deficient in any way. It's just we come from two vastly different worlds. We are definitely not "peas and carrots".
However, I have found Ryan Burnham to be more than the pretty face that first caught my eye. He's funny, charming, kind and in no way the stuck up prig I originally thought he might be.
I so don't want to like him but I do. And now I don't know what to do with it.
Ryan pulls over and parks on the street outside of my building. I start to open the door but he lays his hand on my arm, stopping me. I turn to look at him and I've immediately lost the war that was brewing in my head mere seconds ago. He lifts a hand up and smooths it over and past the hair at my temple until he is cupping the back of my head. He doesn't make a move but just holds me by the head, looking at me. I nervously wet my lips which immediately draws his attention there. He brings his other hand up and gently traces my bottom lip with his thumb.
"Do you think this is a good idea?" I whisper. I want him to say yes. I want him to say no.
Ryan drags his gaze up from my lips and looks at me. "I don't know. I can be all kinds of f**ked in the head sometimes."
Is he warning me off? Should I listen?
"Who isn't f**ked in the head these days?" I ask.
"Indeed," he murmurs as he bends his head toward mine.
Our lips meet softly...nothing more than a whisper against each other. Moving to my cheek with his other hand, Ryan holds both sides of my head and presses into me. His tongue slides gently into my mouth and at the first contact, a groan bubbles up from my chest. My hands involuntarily fist in his shirt and I attempt to get even closer to him. I am being swallowed by his kiss and it's all I can do to hang on.
Ryan pulls slightly away and I make a whimper of dismay. But he only moves his mouth to the corner of mine, placing soft kisses from there along my jaw. With a slight tug of his hand on my ponytail, my head tilts to the side and he blazes a path down my throat. His lips are soft and warm and when he hits my collarbone, I'm completely enslaved. If he told me to take off all my clothes right there, I probably would have. Instead, he pulls away from me and lays his forehead against mine. His breathing is as heavy as mine and I now understand how car windows become fogged.
"Come on. Let me walk you to your door."
Ryan opens my car door for me and takes my hand. We walk together to my apartment door and I'm looking for my keys in my purse, all of a sudden nervous. A minute ago I was ready to jump in bed with Ryan, but now, in the harsh fluorescent light of the hallway outside of my apartment, I'm faced with the uncertainty of a relationship with a man who is so different than me.
Putting his finger under my chin, Ryan tilts my head up to his and says, "Don't."
He knows I'm doubting this and that tells me a lot about how perceptive he is. Before I can respond he pulls me to him and kisses me...hard. And every thought flies out of my head.
My hands snake up his chest and wrap around his neck before slipping into his hair. It's as soft and silky as I had been trying hard not imagine. Our tongues are swirling...stabbing...and then my teeth grab his bottom lip and bite. He answers me with a guttural sound that vibrates from his mouth into mine.