Page 91 of Almost Ours
The warmth of his embrace, the steady thud of his heart against my back–it felt… perfect. And that was dangerous.
By the time we made it to the bedroom, something had changed.
It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate. It was slow–deliberate.
Ryan’s hands traced over my skin like he was memorizing every inch of me, his lips following the path of his fingertips. There was still that electric pull between us, but this time, weweren’t trying to chase it. We were letting it build, letting it settle deep in our bones.
We moved together, unhurried, as if we had all the time in the world. And maybe we did.
Because in that moment, nothing else existed except the feel of his body against mine, the way he held me so close it felt like he was afraid to let go.
And when it was over, I didn’t move.
I didn’t want to.
I lay curled against his chest, my fingers tracing lazy patterns along the ridges of his stomach. His skin was warm beneath my touch, solid and steady in a way that made something in my chest tighten.
Ryan let out a soft breath, his hands moving absently over my back, fingers skimming my shoulder in a featherlight touch. It wasn’t meant to be seductive. It wasn’t meant to be anything at all.
But it was.
Because he wasn’t just touching me.
He was holding me.
And I didn’t realize how much I wanted to be held until that moment.
I shut my eyes, letting the quiet fill the space between us. It should have felt too still, too peaceful after everything we’d done, but instead, it wasperfect.
I wanted to stay here. Just like this.
Because this–this–felt different.
Different in the way he looked at me. Different in the way he touched me, like I was something to be cherished, not just desired.
My heart clenched. Could this be something real?
I didn’t know.
Connor. My responsibilities. Everything I was trying to keep together. And Ryan? He was everything I wasn’t–steady, uncomplicated.
I pushed the doubt away, not wanting to think about what came next.
Right now, all I wanted was this.
Him.
Us.
As if sensing the shift in my thoughts, Ryan’s hand slid up to cup the back of my neck, his thumb brushing lazily over my skin.
“You okay?” His voice was quiet, rough from exhaustion, but there was something else there, too.
I swallowed, my throat tight, and nodded. “Yeah. I’m good.”
He hummed softly, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to my hair.
And just like that, the doubts faded.
