Page 80 of The Right Move

The balloon filled with reckless hope pops in my chest.

“I thought kissing was off the table. You didn’t want to fake it.”

“I made an exception. You were drowning out there. Besides, I owed you a rescue after I bombed at the fall banquet. Call it even?”

Call it even? He just gave me the best kiss of my life and it was to settle a score?

“Yeah,” I breathe out. “Sure. We’re even.”

“Good.” He offers me a smile and a reassuring squeeze of my thigh. “Let’s go home.”

17

INDY

Indy

Daily update—that kiss you saw last week was fake, but I still had to change my underwear when I got home. So, kind of real?

Stevie

If I help you move out, will the daily updates from hell stop?

I’m too far in, sis. Reminder—I warned you.

“And you’re sure?”

“I am. I checked with our provider yesterday. Our insurance policy doesn’t cover fertility treatments, and that won’t be changing at the beginning of the year. That will have to be an out-of-pocket expense.”

Falling back onto my bed, I sigh a defeated exhale. “Thank you for looking into it.”

“Of course, Indy. Have a good day.”

The head of the airline’s human resources department hangs up the phone before I grab a pillow off the side of my bed and silently scream into it.

Goddammit. I knew I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.

Last week, I went to dinner with the flight crew while on the road for work and spilled the details of why I was wanting to earn some extra cash. One of my coworkers could’ve sworn our insurance packages were changing with the year to include fertility treatment benefits, but unfortunately HR finally got back to me this morning to snuff that hopeful flame.

I’m making enough with my salary now that Ryan isn’t allowing me to pay rent, but it’d be nice to offer him something. Honestly, I wish he’d take even a little bit so I could maybe go shopping for a new outfit and not feel guilty that my best friend’s brother is giving me a free ride while I blow some cash on fun.

Heading into the kitchen, I turn on the sink and get to work. Ryan’s been on a weeklong road trip, and I somewhat cleaned the mess I made of the apartment, although I’m sure it’s not to his standards. But last night I got burnt out and left the dishes until this morning. Honestly, I’m surprised Ryan didn’t start doing them when he got home from the airport around three AM.

He left on a road trip the morning after that kiss, and if you think I’ve thought of anything else since, you’d be sorely mistaken. The way his hands took charge, claiming me, one on my hip, one through my hair. The way his lips were commanding, but soft enough to yield to mine. Most of all, the reason he did it—because he didn’t want Alex to think he’d come out ahead.

Sure, it was all for show, but good luck trying to convince my body of that. If that was a fake kiss, I’m not sure I could handle knowing what a real one feels like.

Seeing Alex was a painful dose of reality. I had the privilege of forgetting about him until that night. Well, maybe I didn’t completely forget about him because the damage he’s done feels like a deep scar that’ll never heal, constantly opening for the rest of my life, but he has moved to the back of my mind over the last few weeks.

That night though, seeing him, realizing he views me as disposable, as a forgettable piece of his life when he had been my priority for so long, has made me desperate to try to move on the way he has.

If he can live his life like I didn’t mean anything to him, why can’t I? Why is he the last man I’ve been with? Why shouldn’t I be able to disconnect sex and love? I’ve never done it before, but I need to try. It’s only been seven months since I was living the life I thought was my forever. My heart shouldn’t be ready to move on, but that doesn’t mean my body can’t.

Maybe a physical relationship will flush him out of my system and there’s only one man I want to test that theory with.

As if he could hear my carnal thoughts summoning him, Ryan’s bedroom door opens while I’m mid-load of the dishwasher. I’m bent over, ass out, but since everything has been so fake between us, it shouldn’t be a problem for him. The attraction is all pretend, right?

When I look back, I’m pleasantly surprised to find his blue-green eyes hooded over and staring at my ass. My shorts are a little too short, but that’s what he gets.

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