Page 76 of Unforgettable
Her hands danced through my hair as she nibbled on my lip, kissed my cheeks, my eyes, then my neck. Her gentleness was suffocating yet freeing. I’d always been rough with women when it came to sex, but this was far from sex.
What was happening between us was intimate and special, and I didn’t want it to end.
I let my head fall back. “Kiss me.” I needed her mouth on mine. I needed to not stop kissing her because the more our mouths were fused together, the more the pain inside me didn’t exist. It had no place to flourish, bloom, and grow.
Her tongue swept inside my mouth as she spewed soft noises.
Tears careened down my face. “You’re changing me.”
She kissed away every one of my tears. “I got you, big guy. Whatever you need.”
I needed a friend, but she was turning into so much more.
24
Haven
Six days had passed since Ryker had broken down at the cemetery. That night, I’d learned it was the first time he had cried since he’d lost his family. I hadn’t been surprised. Sometimes the shock didn’t wear off for weeks, even months. I’d seen that happen to my father. He’d refused to believe that my mom was gone. He’d drunk and moped around, but I didn’t see him shed a tear until about three months after we’d buried her. Then one day, I’d found him on the couch, sobbing. I had stayed by his side, consoling him, crying with him, and helping my dad heal.
For me, the process of being there for someone when they were grieving gave me a sense of peace. I couldn’t tell Ryker that the pain would ease or that it would get easier, because I still had bad days when I thought of my mom.
Ryker had asked why I was in his life. I now knew the reason. I was there to help him get through this tough time. I was there to give him my shoulder and support. I wasn’t a religious person, but I did believe in God and fate, and fate wanted me to help him. To a certain extent, Ryker was helping me.
Before we’d left the cemetery, he’d accompanied me to my mom’s grave. We’d both shed tears—lots of them. And when we had driven away, I believed we’d both stitched up a hole in our hearts. I wouldn’t say he was out of the woods yet, but processing death was a journey, and I wanted to help him in any way I could.
Ryker and I were walking into Woodcreek High. He’d invited me to join him at an art festival the school was having. A painting Leigh had done was on display, and according to Ryker, he wanted some company or a shoulder to cry on just in case. Lucas was supposed to attend, but something had come up at the last minute. I jumped at the chance to help a friend despite my father’s rules.
“I need to send a text,” I said as we approached the entrance.
After our first kiss at the Marriott, I’d worried that Tabitha or Beverly would tattle on me to my father. However, all had been quiet. Father had been traveling, and with election day approaching, he was knee deep in getting out to talk to voters.
Ryker studied me, his gray eyes glinting in the late-afternoon sunlight. “Something wrong?”
“Just something I forgot to do. Go. I’ll be in shortly.” The last thing I wanted to do was bring up my father and ruin Ryker’s night. However, as we’d gotten out of the car, I realized that Mr. Bridges might be there. Considering he was friends with my father, I’d decided it was best to nip any potential problems in the bud.
I watched Ryker as he strutted in, his shoulders seemingly tense. He’d been quiet in the car on the way over. I hadn’t needed to ask him to know that he was thinking of his sister.
I typed furiously on my phone so I could get inside to hold his hand.
Me:I’m at an art festival. Ryker is here. So don’t be surprised if your spies tell you that.
I started to pocket my phone since I didn’t expect to get a response, but it pinged right away.
Father:Thanks for the heads up. Tell the quarterback to keep winning games.
Me:Are you warming up to him?
Father:No. I just want to make sure the money I donate sees a return.
Unbelievable.
My phone pinged again.
Father:Haven, remember our deal.
I was tempted to send the middle finger emoji, but instead, I slipped my phone in my purse.
Bastard.
