Page 108 of Stick With Me
I feel her nod against me before, with the faintest shift of the bed, she leans over and flicks off the nightstand lamp. But instead of lying back down, she moves her body over mine, her lips pressing to mine in a kiss that catches me off guard.
I’m not complaining, though. I indulge, enjoying the feel of her mouth on mine until my body reacts, my dick straining against my boxer briefs. I resist the urge to roll my hips. Remembering what she said earlier about being tired, I pull away—though it takes more effort than I’d like to admit. I leave one more soft kiss on her lips before she cuddles back into my good side. She hums sleepily, and that simple sound gives me a deep sense of satisfaction.
“Go to bed, baby,” I murmur.
I pull the covers up around us, my heart settled in a way it never has before. This, right here? This is exactly what I’ve been waiting for.
FORTY-ONE
“Where do you want this?”Ada asks, holding up a cake decorated with paw prints. Decorative ones—the dogs haven’t gotten to it, at least, not yet.
With Ryan’s arm still healing, she’s been helping me pull everything together, along with securing this space. The concrete floors make it dog-friendly, and the floor-to-ceiling windows showcase the city views for the two-legged guests to enjoy.
I point to the dessert table in the far corner of the room. “Over there, thank you. Did I mention you’re a lifesaver?”
“Only about a hundred times today,” she teases, making her way to the table.
I head to the foyer and test the QR code one last time. It’s set up to direct guests to our Kickstarter page for donations. If all goes well, we could hit our fundraising goal today. That would be an immense relief, knowing we’d have enough funding to operate for the next six months or more.
I greet my foster volunteers and their dogs, who arrived this week and have been adjusting to their temporary homes. Then I fiddle with the décor and adjust the centerpieces—each featuring a ‘social media profile’ for our adoptable pups. I take a deep breath. Everything looks perfect, but I can’t stop tweaking minor details as nervous energy buzzes inside me.
“All right, go get ready.” Ada hands me my garment bag and gestures toward the loft.
“What, you don’t like my outfit?” I ask, running my hands over my hips, clad in an old pair of Ryan’s sweatpants.
“Funny. Go!” She herds me toward the stairs.
The loft space reminds me of a high-end hotel suite, complete with a cozy sitting area and a massive king bed. Collapsing onto it is tempting, but I’ve given myself a thirty-minute time limit to get ready, so I don’t have time to waste. I make my way into the spacious bathroom and quickly hop into the shower.
I wipe the fog from the mirror, and a smile tugs at my lips.It’s all happening. The dream I’ve had since I was a kid is finally becoming reality. Who knew that the first turtle I saved from being run over when I was seven would lead me here?
I can still hear the horror in my mom’s voice when she yelled at me for bringing a snapping turtle into the house. In hindsight, she was right, and I’m lucky I still have all my fingers and toes. But saving that little guy sparked my love for animals and rescue, and now here I am with my very own.
The memory comes with a pang of disappointment that she’s not here today. As much as I hate to admit it, I’d been holding on to a sliver of hope that she might at least reach out to wish me luck, but my phone screen resting on the counter remains blank.
I shake off the thoughts before they can cast a shadow over a day that deserves to shine.
I let my hair down, apply light makeup, and slip into my cocktail dress, smoothing out the fabric. Probably not the most practical choice for dealing with slobbery dogs, but I feel fabulous, and that’s all that matters.
There’s a knock at the door before it slowly creaks open. “Sunshine?” Ryan’s deep voice carries through the small space.
“Come in,” I say, though he’s already stepping into the bathroom.
He pauses a few feet away, taking me in with a slow and deliberate look. “Wow.”
“You like?” I turn toward him.
“Ilove.” His lips curve into a shy grin. One I want to kiss right off his face.
He finally steps closer, his hands settling on my waist, and answers my unspoken request with a soft kiss. His familiar woodsy scent grounds me. When he pulls back, it’s only far enough to rest his forehead against mine.
The moment is interrupted when my phone dances across the counter. I cut my eyes to the device, and Ryan reads my mind: I’m hoping it’s from my parents. His expression shifts to one of understanding, and he gently caresses my hip as I reach for the phone.
What I find waiting is more surprising than a text from my parents.
Jace:
I know this doesn’t come close to showing you how sorry I am for everything I’ve put you through, but I hope it’s a start. Congrats on your launch.
