Settings

Let Me Be the One

Page 6

   


Unfortunately, Ryan looked anything but convinced. “You asked me to come here tonight because you felt like you were all out of options, right?”
She blew out a breath. “Right.”
“When we were kids, you were nearly killed pushing me out of the way of that car. You saved me, Vicki. Big time. Now it’s my turn to return the favor.”
Everyone thought Ryan Sullivan was so easygoing. And it was true that he was quick with laughter, that he made everything look easy. But she knew how much focus went into his ease. When she’d be at her potting wheel in her parents’ garage, he’d throw balls at a soft target he set up on her driveway over and over until her fingers were working in time to the constant thud of the ball into the target.
Now, his focus was on protecting her from James’s less than pure intentions. Ryan was too great not to back her up. And he wouldn’t dream of walking away if he thought she needed him.
He reached into his wallet and tossed a couple of twenties down on the table. “Let’s get out of here. This place gives me the creeps.”
She felt the same way, surrounded by all that leather and velvet. Everyone at the Pacific Union Club looked like they had metal beams shoved up their you-know-whats.
Ryan stood up, then waited for her to scoot over to the edge of the couch. And even though she knew his sweetly seductive kiss had all been part of their big act, she was hyperaware of her body around him.
The fact that her dress was hiking higher and higher up her thighs as she slid along the couch.
The knowledge that he must have a perfect view of her ample cle**age. The expensive, sky-high heels she’d put on to pretend an Army brat like her belonged in a place like this.
His hand was warm on her back as they headed for the exit. She tried to remind herself that it was no different than what any other gentleman would have done. But her body refused to listen.
How could it, when it felt so good to be touched by him?
She’d never been more glad for fresh air. Now all she needed to do was STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT KISS and everything would be fine. Which, unfortunately, meant she should probably call it a night. Because every second she spent with Ryan only made her want to do it again.
“Why didn’t you call me to tell me you were back in town?”
“I know how busy you are with the team and your family and—” Your girls. “—your social life.”
“I’m never too busy for a friend.”
It was exactly why she’d texted him. Because she knew that if anyone would come through for her in a pinch, it would be Ryan. He’d always been different from the other men she knew. Not just because he was worlds better looking than the rest of them, but because she’d never doubted how much he liked her.
After the star-struck valet asked for an autograph and then went to fetch Ryan’s car, he asked, “Where’s your hotel?”
Not wanting him to see the dump she was staying in for the time being, she said, “In the Mission. But I can take a cab.” A bus, actually, because she didn’t have the money to waste on a taxi.
His eyes narrowed. “The Mission? No way. We’re going to get your things and you’re moving in with me.”
Shock rolled through her at his suggestion. “I can’t move in with you, Ryan.”
“Of course you can.”
He was so sure. Was acting like it all made sense, like her moving in with him was no different than his giving her a ride home.
“You have a life and I can’t just barge in on it.”
Honestly, just the thought of being in his house while he was making love to another woman under the same roof practically did her in. Plus, if she were being perfectly honest with herself, she wasn’t at all sure she trusted herself to be that close to him without giving in to the urge to strip herself naked and beg him to take her.
“If I had known you were coming to the city,” Ryan said as he pulled into traffic and headed toward the Mission district, “I would have asked you to stay with me. After not getting to see you for so long, I’m planning to keep you here for as long as I can this time.”
It was impossible to hold back her smile. Over the years, whenever Ryan had texted or emailed, or if they’d managed to catch each other on the phone for a few minutes, he’d never failed to brighten up her day.
It was lovely to know that he seemed to feel the same way.
How had the years come and gone between them so fast? She’d moved away from the Bay Area after sophomore year and slogged her way through to high school graduation in the Midwest before finally escaping to art school in New York City. She’d loved every minute of finally being with people she understood and who seemed to understand her. Still, she’d always missed Ryan and had even tried to attend a couple of his College World Series games on the east coast, but the game dates and her test schedules had always conflicted.
Before she knew it, she’d met Anthony and graduated and was married and living in Europe. Her husband had been possessive and jealous of her platonic relationships with other men.
Especially her friendship with Ryan.
No wonder it had never worked for the two of them to actually meet up again. She’d been too worried about damaging her marriage, and Ryan had obviously been just as wary of getting in the middle of it. It wasn’t until she’d finally left the marriage that she felt she could reach out to Ryan again. But by then, according to the tabloids, he was dating an oil heiress. Of course she wasn’t going to cry on his attached shoulder. It wouldn’t have been fair to him—or to the heiress girlfriend. By the time the tabloids declared his relationship to be over, she’d vowed to get her life back together on her own so she could laugh with him again instead of wasting any more time crying.
She’d thought this fellowship opportunity was going to be a part of finally getting her life back on track, rather than finally being a reason to drag Ryan into her messy life.
He didn’t say anything when they got to her motel, but he didn’t need to. The disgusted look on his face said it all.
“You should probably stay with your car,” she suggested. Wouldn’t it be the icing on the cake if his fancy car was broken into or stolen, on top of everything else she’d already put him through tonight?
“Screw my car.” He looked around at the very sketchy men and women loitering on the sidewalk. “I’m coming with you.”
As they climbed the stairs, the sounds of yelling and crying and babies wailing felt like the perfect soundtrack to the fiasco of her life. She’d never wanted to be the woman in need of saving, had scoffed at girls like that.