Page 114 of Love Complicated

Frustration clouds Ridge’s face, and he slouches on the couch, looking almost defeated. “When I saw you walk into the school that afternoon,” he begins, “I wanted you back. I wanted what we used to have.” He smirks, takes a sip and winces from the bite of the straight whiskey. “I wanted what was mine.”

I shift on the small couch. Ridge meets my gaze, his darkness challenging me.

I take a drink straight from the bottle.

Then another.

“And that night in the back of your mom’s car?” I prompt, handing him the bottle back, wanting so desperately to finally have the answer. Why had he wanted to have sex with me so bad that night?

Taking the bottle from me, he sighs. “I stole her car, picked you up, tried to get you to give it up to me, and then I drove the car into the building.” His eyes glisten with pain. “I wasn’t just going to use you, Aly. Yeah, I wanted you, but it was more than that. I loved you, even then.” I move to straddle him, wrapping my hands around his neck.

Snatching the bottle from his hand, I take a swig. “So all that talk about you only wanting to fuck me was a cover up for what you really felt?”

He rests his chin on my shoulder. “Yes.”

“What an asshole.” I shake my head, feeling my tears running down my face.

Pulling back, he stares at me through red-rimmed eyes brushing my tears away with the swipe of his thumb over my cheek. “I fell in love with you, and that shitneverlet up. Not one bit. It wasn’t poetic or even romantic.” He laughs, laying his head back against the couch, almost ashamed. “It was a shit move.” Lifting his head, he stares at me and I know what he says next holds meaning by the tenderness in his eyes. “I still love you, even now.” He takes my cheeks and pulls my face to meet his. “Did you hear me?”

I don’t say anything at first. Our noses brush, and I draw in a careful breath, trying to find the words he desperately wants to hear.

“Are you going to say something?”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.” I purse my lips, already tasting the saltiness of the tears wanting to break free with his confession.

Ridge Lucas loves me. Has he ever loved anything?

Before I can think too much and overcomplicate everything he told me, our lips come together, needy and demanding.

“Tell me you feel the same way,” Ridge demands, his kisses never stopping. “Fuckin’ tell me.”

“I do.” I sniff, more tears falling, my words whispered against his lips. He needs to hear me say it while looking him in the eyes to understand the meaning behind me saying it. I pull away from his face, sucking in a breath. “I loveyou.”

Ridge shakes his head, a sad smile on his face. “Where does that leave us?”

“I don’t know. Where do you want it to leave us?” I ask, not wanting to assume anything.

He brings my hands to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere. Not this time.”

He lays me back, hands cradling my head as he settles himself between my legs. “Is this what you want?”

I nod, my legs wrapping around him, refusing to let him go. “It’s what I want.”

This time I’m not telling him no.

Leaning forward, his mouth finds mine, deepening an already erotic kiss. He kisses me like I’ve never been kissed before. Like I should have been kissed all along. My breathing is harsh, heavy breaths I can’t control, trying to process the last twenty minutes when his mouth returns to mine.

When I meet his dark eyes, he reminds me of the fifteen-year-old boy that night in his mom’s car—nervous, intense, and well, kind of crazy, begging for me to have sex with him to mask the lies he’d been told. He’s still Ridge, so more than likely still crazy, but this time it’s different.

As the rest of our clothing falls away, I tell him how much I love him.

When he fills me, he tells me, and he doesn’t stop until I arch and fall apart beneath him. I don’t stop until he lets go, his harsh breathing softened in the curve of my neck.

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