Unstoppable
Page 24
“What did you call me?”
Ryland braces up on his elbows above me, smiling behind his clear plastic mask. His forehead is smudged with blue paint, and before I can stop myself, I reach up to smear it down his cheek.
“Your name.” I grin. “I think it’s fucking adorable.”
He laughs, catching my wrist and suddenly rolling us so I’m on top, straddling his lap. The overalls are bulky, but I can still feel the heat of his body, the taut muscles cradled between my thighs.
My heart races faster.
Ryland lies back, lazily holding my thighs. He doesn’t move, doesn’t reach for me, but I feel the magnetic draw from him, more powerful than if he’d been pinning me down with all his might.
Oh God, I want him.
My stomach tightens. My pulse skitters as slowly, slowly, I lean over him. I rest my hands on the ground on either side of his face; my hair falls in a curtain around us, shielding us with a tangled, paint-streaked veil. A private universe, hidden from the world.
Ryland’s eyes grow darker. I can feel his heart beating as I lean closer, hear his breath hitch.
Closer…
Somewhere, a voice of reason reminds me that this is a bad, bad idea, but it fades to static under the thunder of my heartbeat, and soon, the pounding is the only thing I can hear.
Closer…
I close my eyes as I lean the final inch, and kiss him, gently on the lips.
Oh.
His lips are warm against mine, but Ryland doesn’t move a muscle. We stay suspended there, our mouths barely grazing, and my body sings a wild melody. I feel it, feel him everywhere, every moment, every heartbeat. The world shrinks to just this one small corner of reality: the taste of him, the soft graze of his lips beneath mine.
I slowly pull away.
“What are you doing?” he whispers, and I feel the breath of his words against my mouth. I stare down at those dark eyes, and feel myself falling, falling into their liquid depths.
“I don’t know,” I whisper back, but I can’t stop from smiling. My body is still humming, sweet and alive.
Ryland’s lips slowly spread in a grin. He reaches up to cradle my face in his hands, and then he lifts his mouth to mine. Slow and sweet, he kisses me with a tenderness that sends my head spinning. Honeyed kisses, he takes his time. I fall against him, down into his embrace, losing myself in the moment as it unfolds like silk and stardust.
Ryland cradles me against him, and then gently rolls me so we’re side by side in the dirt. His body stretched the length of me, barely touching, his hands still so gentle on my skin. He kisses me as if I’m made of glass, as if I’m the most precious thing in the world.
Nothing holding me. Nothing pinning me down, pushing me to the edge.
I float in the haze of his kisses and sunshine, and I realize for the first time that I might have been wrong about him all along.
He’s nothing like Connor.
14.
We finish up the game and change back into our regular clothes. I feel strangely lightheaded, sneaking blushing glances at him as we drive a short distance to what Ryland claims are the best hot dogs on the whole coast.
What am I doing?
I have no idea, I just know that I feel a strange freedom with him today, a giddy skip in my step. It’s like I’ve shed my old skin for a brief afternoon, and what’s left is a feeling I’ve been missing for too long. An innocence, despite the heat that rises through my body with every glance. Every touch.
Every kiss.
“See, I know how to treat a lady,” Ryland quips, setting down a tray of junk food at our table off the side of the highway. I laugh. He’s got half a dozen hot dogs, plus a vast carton of fries and two shakes.
“If I eat all that, I’m going to be sick,” I warn him, sneaking a single fry.
“Who said any of this is yours?” Ryland devours a hot dog in three bites and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. I realize he’s only half-joking, and grab some food quick before he inhales it all.
I watch as he demolishes two more hot dogs in quick succession. “You’re an animal.”
He grins. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
His dark hair is getting too long, it falls just above his eyes, and I feel the strangest impulse to reach over and push it back.
I wrap my hands around my drink and take a gulp so fast I nearly choke.
“Brit seems nice,” I say blandly, searching for a safe topic of conversation that doesn’t involve making out. The relaxed ease I felt with him earlier today has disappeared, and now I’m breathless and fluttery, too aware of every breath.
Ryland smirks. “Nice isn’t exactly the word most people use to describe my sister. ‘Bitch’ usually comes top of the list.”
I frown, thinking back to our afternoon together. “Really?”
“She’s getting soft in her old age.” Ryland winks, dunking a fry in the ketchup. “True love, what are you going to do?”
“Dex is the same,” I note with a smile. “You should see him and Alicia, it’s sickening.”
“What about you?” he asks casually, glancing past me at the other diners crammed around the benches and picnic tables. “Who’s the love of your life?”
My breath sticks in my throat.
“Right now?” I deflect the question. “This milkshake ranks pretty high.”
Ryland’s eyes burn into me, like he can see past my defensive joking.
“What about you?” I turn the question around. “I’m guessing there’s a trail of broken hearts all the way between here and Vegas.”
Ryland braces up on his elbows above me, smiling behind his clear plastic mask. His forehead is smudged with blue paint, and before I can stop myself, I reach up to smear it down his cheek.
“Your name.” I grin. “I think it’s fucking adorable.”
He laughs, catching my wrist and suddenly rolling us so I’m on top, straddling his lap. The overalls are bulky, but I can still feel the heat of his body, the taut muscles cradled between my thighs.
My heart races faster.
Ryland lies back, lazily holding my thighs. He doesn’t move, doesn’t reach for me, but I feel the magnetic draw from him, more powerful than if he’d been pinning me down with all his might.
Oh God, I want him.
My stomach tightens. My pulse skitters as slowly, slowly, I lean over him. I rest my hands on the ground on either side of his face; my hair falls in a curtain around us, shielding us with a tangled, paint-streaked veil. A private universe, hidden from the world.
Ryland’s eyes grow darker. I can feel his heart beating as I lean closer, hear his breath hitch.
Closer…
Somewhere, a voice of reason reminds me that this is a bad, bad idea, but it fades to static under the thunder of my heartbeat, and soon, the pounding is the only thing I can hear.
Closer…
I close my eyes as I lean the final inch, and kiss him, gently on the lips.
Oh.
His lips are warm against mine, but Ryland doesn’t move a muscle. We stay suspended there, our mouths barely grazing, and my body sings a wild melody. I feel it, feel him everywhere, every moment, every heartbeat. The world shrinks to just this one small corner of reality: the taste of him, the soft graze of his lips beneath mine.
I slowly pull away.
“What are you doing?” he whispers, and I feel the breath of his words against my mouth. I stare down at those dark eyes, and feel myself falling, falling into their liquid depths.
“I don’t know,” I whisper back, but I can’t stop from smiling. My body is still humming, sweet and alive.
Ryland’s lips slowly spread in a grin. He reaches up to cradle my face in his hands, and then he lifts his mouth to mine. Slow and sweet, he kisses me with a tenderness that sends my head spinning. Honeyed kisses, he takes his time. I fall against him, down into his embrace, losing myself in the moment as it unfolds like silk and stardust.
Ryland cradles me against him, and then gently rolls me so we’re side by side in the dirt. His body stretched the length of me, barely touching, his hands still so gentle on my skin. He kisses me as if I’m made of glass, as if I’m the most precious thing in the world.
Nothing holding me. Nothing pinning me down, pushing me to the edge.
I float in the haze of his kisses and sunshine, and I realize for the first time that I might have been wrong about him all along.
He’s nothing like Connor.
14.
We finish up the game and change back into our regular clothes. I feel strangely lightheaded, sneaking blushing glances at him as we drive a short distance to what Ryland claims are the best hot dogs on the whole coast.
What am I doing?
I have no idea, I just know that I feel a strange freedom with him today, a giddy skip in my step. It’s like I’ve shed my old skin for a brief afternoon, and what’s left is a feeling I’ve been missing for too long. An innocence, despite the heat that rises through my body with every glance. Every touch.
Every kiss.
“See, I know how to treat a lady,” Ryland quips, setting down a tray of junk food at our table off the side of the highway. I laugh. He’s got half a dozen hot dogs, plus a vast carton of fries and two shakes.
“If I eat all that, I’m going to be sick,” I warn him, sneaking a single fry.
“Who said any of this is yours?” Ryland devours a hot dog in three bites and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. I realize he’s only half-joking, and grab some food quick before he inhales it all.
I watch as he demolishes two more hot dogs in quick succession. “You’re an animal.”
He grins. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
His dark hair is getting too long, it falls just above his eyes, and I feel the strangest impulse to reach over and push it back.
I wrap my hands around my drink and take a gulp so fast I nearly choke.
“Brit seems nice,” I say blandly, searching for a safe topic of conversation that doesn’t involve making out. The relaxed ease I felt with him earlier today has disappeared, and now I’m breathless and fluttery, too aware of every breath.
Ryland smirks. “Nice isn’t exactly the word most people use to describe my sister. ‘Bitch’ usually comes top of the list.”
I frown, thinking back to our afternoon together. “Really?”
“She’s getting soft in her old age.” Ryland winks, dunking a fry in the ketchup. “True love, what are you going to do?”
“Dex is the same,” I note with a smile. “You should see him and Alicia, it’s sickening.”
“What about you?” he asks casually, glancing past me at the other diners crammed around the benches and picnic tables. “Who’s the love of your life?”
My breath sticks in my throat.
“Right now?” I deflect the question. “This milkshake ranks pretty high.”
Ryland’s eyes burn into me, like he can see past my defensive joking.
“What about you?” I turn the question around. “I’m guessing there’s a trail of broken hearts all the way between here and Vegas.”
