Page 51 of Return on Love

I take some time for it to seep in. Was this man always trying to help me out? And for that, I thought he was the worst? No, I couldn’t have been so off the radar.

“But you puked on me.”

“And you gave it back to me, with interest, I must add.”

“What? What d’ya mean?”

Our meal is finished and we’ve moved to the couch and chair with a glass of wine.

“Remember the party in grad school? That’s when I knew you can’t hold a drink. I don’t know how much you had that night, but you walked straight up to me and puked all over me. Stella and a friend of hers were sitting right beside me and they were totally shocked. And then, you semi-passed out, I think. You were muttering something. So I carried you over to your room and put you to bed.”

“Oh. That’s how I reached my room! I always wondered. And I vomited over you? And never apologized for it? Shit! I’m so sorry, Ryan. I had no idea, no recollection whatsoever.” And then a worse thought comes to my mind. “Did I puke on you during the office party as well?”

Ryan smiles, leans forward, and holds my hand. “No. But you can do puke on me all you want. I don’t mind caring for you. I can clean you up and take you safely to bed every time you do it.”

My heart melts on hearing those words and I down the wine to remind my brain and my heart that this is short-lived. In fact, ‘this’ is nothing.

“Easy, now, girl. I can do it, but I don’t like to do it. You’ve had your quota for tonight.” I laugh and so does he. He’s so funny. And smart. And lovable. And handsome. Fricking hell. What’s happening to me? Why am I getting these stupid thoughts?

“I can handle one glass of wine, even two. When I reach the fourth, is when I do rad things.”

“Rad things! That’s a term Bernard uses a lot.”

“I know, right? I learned it from him. Rather, I used to tease him, until it grew on me too.”

Talking of Bernard brings the email from James back to my mind. I tell Ryan about it.

“Can you show it to me?” he asks. I show him the attachment on my phone. He studies it for a few minutes. “This doesn’t seem fake.”

“But Bernard would never send such an email. I know that. I’m almost certain Weber has something to do with it. But how could he send such an email from Bernard’s account?”

“Could Weber hack his email id? How strong is your IT?”

“I don’t know. He could hack, I guess, if he had help. But if he accessed it from some other system, Bernard would get a notification to approve before anyone can access his email.”

“What if someone got access to his system for a while and sent it from that? They could delete it from sent items and Bernard wouldn’t know. There are ways of checking, but if he suspected nothing, he wouldn’t really go to all that trouble, would he?”

I nod. “But how would they know if James responded to Bernard on his real email id or not?”

“Maybe they placed a virus on his system. It’s not that difficult to do. You just need to copy a file on the system. Anytime the system is active, you can have access to it as well, provided you’re connected to the same local network.”

Would Weber do such a thing? I don’t know. Perhaps not. But someone is trying to frame Bernard. That I’m certain. I just don’t know what to do about it.

Ryan has to work on the game and goes to the other room while I fall asleep watching ‘The Force Awakens’ on his bed. When I open my eyes, I see him lying beside me, looking at my face and smiling. He gives me a kiss on my forehead as I open my eyes and gently puts my hair behind my ears.

“Mornin’,” he says.

I pull him close to me and wrap my legs around his thighs. Our lips are together in an instant, like two magnets too strong to be separated. This is clearly the best morning ever. I could get used to this.

“I think we should forget the consultant bit for some time. What say?” I whisper, pulling away for a moment.

He rubs his thumb on my lower lip. His pupils are dilated and his breathing is shallow. The next instant his lips are on mine, playing their magic till I can’t breathe. He’s on top of me, our hands all over each other. He already understands my body better and takes me to heaven. I think I’ve had more orgasms in this one weekend than in the past one year.

After the morning exercise (if you sweat, it’s exercise!), Ryan takes Max out for a run and I decide to make breakfast for a change. I mean, break the eggs and cook them. How hard can that be, right? As for bread, you put them in the toaster till they pop out. Big whoop!

I break the eggs. I can do that. I’ve lived alone long enough to know that, at least. But the scrambled eggs definitely taste different from the way Ryan makes them. Even the bread decides to get burned from one side. Just as I’m wondering what to do with it all, dump it all in the bin or inside my stomach, Ryan is back.

“Oooh, someone’s made breakfast,” he says, rubbing his hands, and sits down on the table to eat.

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