Page 26 of Rush
Plucking it from his hand, I ran my fingers over the silky faux fur and straightened the tufts on its head. It was the cutest thing ever. It was the simplest thing, but the fact that getting it for me had even crossed Ryan’s mind in the first place meant more than I thought it would. Hunter never gave me silly little gifts that reminded him of random things we’d done together. Outside of the big kahunas—birthdays, Christmas, and the random anniversary—it was business as usual.
“Do you like it?” Ryan asked, sitting beside me.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “I like all of it. Every bit.”Every last drop.
“Don’t tear up on me, J,” he said with a chuckle. “We’ve three more things left on your list, you know, and that’s not even counting the mysterious number five. Save some for later.”
“I thought you were doing a runner just now,” I said, clutching the giraffe in my lap. “But you came back with a stuffed toy.”
“You weren’t that annoying, J. You should’ve seen your face when you fed that giraffe. I would say that was experiencing the world like a child, one hundred percent. Cross it off the list.”
“You know what would be the perfect ending to today?” I prodded.
“What?”
“Motherfucking ice cream!”
Ryan made a face. “Only you could make ice cream come with an explicit language warning.”
“C’mon,” I said, threading my arm through his. “Ice cream, then home.”
As we walked through the zoo toward the food stall, I hugged my giraffe close and laid my head against Ryan’s shoulder. I felt special. This day was special.
It was the most perfect day a girl could’ve asked for.
9
Jade
“Jade, wake up.”
I moaned, screwing my eyes shut and swatting my hand blindly at the voice.
“C’mon, sleepyhead, time to get up.”
“It’s so not,” I muttered. “Liar.”
“You’ve got half an hour,” Ryan said.
My eyes snapped open, and I saw him kneeling beside the couch, dressed and way too awake for the darkness outside the balcony windows.
“Bucket list item number two,” he declared, yanking the blanket off me.
I cried out, but it was too late. His eyes widened slightly as he copped an eyeful of my black lacy knickers, and I pulled the blanket back over me.
“Ryan!”
“Hell, if I knew you slept in nothing by a singlet and knickers,” he said, scratching his head. “They look really nice, by the way.”
Lifting my hand, I slapped him playfully. “Perv.”
“Ow, seriously. Thirty minutes.”
Picking up my phone from the coffee table, I saw it was four thirty a.m., and I sank back onto the couch with a dramatic groan.
“Hot air ballooning is a sunrise activity, J,” he said, anticipating my complaining.
“Why does it hurt so much?” I said, moaning and being completely overdramatic.
