Page 90 of The Right Move

“You what?”

“I need a night with someone who isn’t Alex, okay? Not that it’s really any of your business.”

His laugh is dry and humorless as he rounds the kitchen island and pours himself a shot of whiskey.

“I’m sorry, Ryan, but a woman has needs.”

“Then take care of them yourself!”

My head jerks back, a few palpable seconds passing between us.

“It’s really not that fucking hard, Indy. How do you think I’ve gone so long without?” He releases a harsh breath before grabbing our bucket list from the refrigerator. He scribbles quick, angry words before sliding the paper across the island to me. “Here, I’ll even add it to your bucket list.”

Number 6. Have sex with yourself.

“Screw you, Ryan. What if I added that to your list? For you to have sex with someone?”

He blinks. “Is that what this is about? Because I told you I’m celibate?”

I falter, hating where this conversation is going. No part of me has judged his life choices and I don’t think of him any differently for them.

But deep down, yes, this is because he’s celibate. Because I want him and even though there was an invisible line that kept him somewhat off-limits, now it’s clear as day. I can’t have him and maybe someone else would be able to help drown out that realization.

“No. No, it has nothing to do with that, but I’ve been single for eight months. I haven’t been with anyone in eight months—”

“So, you were going to let that piece of shit be the first man to touch you?”

“It’s just sex! It doesn’t mean anything!”

“Yes, it does!” He’s desperate, pleading for me to understand. His tone lowers to almost a whisper. “It means something, Indy, and you may have blown our cover for some jackass who doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you.”

“Ryan,” I say softly. “All my life I’ve been told I’m too emotional, that I feel too much, so for once I’m trying to be the girl who is unattached. Look what happened to me the last time I loved someone.”

The truth is, I’ve never had meaningless sex in my life. I lost my virginity to Alex. I truly have no idea how to be unattached.

Ryan pounds back his shot of whiskey. “You’re right.” His glass hits the counter. “Do what you want. I’m just your roommate, right? It doesn’t matter how I feel about the situation.”

How he feels about the situation? If he’s upset his GM could’ve caught me, that’s one thing, but if he’s hurt because I didn’t ask him to be the first man post-breakup, that’s another. Does he not remember that he’s the one who rejected me on the couch a few weeks ago? And now that I know that he’s celibate, I would never ask him to change his lifestyle for me.

“Maybe do it in private next time, you know, to keep up our little ruse.”

I should tell him the truth—I don’t want just anyone’s help. I want his help—but it’d probably make things worse. Besides, Ryan knows how attracted I am to him, so I doubt he’d be shocked to learn what I want, and he already told me where he stands.

Instead, I give him as much of the truth as I can muster, stopping him before he makes it past the threshold of his room.

“You want the truth?” I swallow as he looks over his shoulder at me, bright eyes pleading for me to say something that’ll make the situation better. “The truth is I haven’t gotten off in eight months.” I throw my hands up in defeat. “You think I haven’t tried to take care of it myself? I have. Countless times. And every time I get close, an image of my ex-boyfriend pops into my head and suddenly, I’m back in our old apartment walking in on him fucking his coworker. He cheated on me and now I can’t even have an orgasm because of it.” A half-hearted laugh escapes me. “I’m pretty sure my body is broken, so yeah, I thought I’d test that theory by having someone else there to help distract me. I didn’t think about being seen in public, so I apologize for that, but I’m not going to apologize for having needs and being desperate to take care of—”

Ryan’s hand brackets my throat, pinning me to the wall with his hips, stealing the rest of my words when his mouth takes mine.

Instantly, I’m compliant, pliable, letting him take me however he wishes. On the other hand, he’s commanding in his standard controlling manner, but there’s a juxtaposition in the way he kisses. Rough but thoughtful. Hurried but enjoyed.

This…this can’t be fake. There’s no one else to witness it and therefore that insecurity has vanished from my mind.

A whimper crawls up my throat when his tongue sweeps into my mouth.

He groans, pressing his forehead to mine. “Fuck, Ind. Make those little noises again and I don’t know that I’ll be able to stop.”

“Good, I don’t want you to.”

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