Page 57 of Something to Someone

The prize he’d won was a silver ring with a cute little light purple flower in the center. It was nothing more than nickel with glued on jewels, but it was sweet. Too sweet.

“You don’t have to wear it or anything,” he clarified. “But it just reminded me of you. It feels stupid now that I’m saying it out loud and watching you hold it.”

My heart was doing that stuttering thing again, only more violently. So violently that I thought I was having a heart attack. Then my stomach flipped, and I considered rushing back to the bathroom in case I puked.

Why did he have to be sogood? Why did he have to make me feel things?

It was a goddamn fake ring, and somehow it made me want to wrap my arms around his neck and press my lips to his.

I’d realized I’d been quiet for too long, clutching the ring between my fingers, when I looked up and recognized the dejection on his face. All at once, everything inside me wanted to fix that.

“Thank you. It’s not stupid,” I said quietly and tested the ring on a few different fingers before I realized it fit perfectly on my right ring finger. I wiggled my finger and let the light catch the jewels. It was my favorite color.

I cleared my throat and looked back at Ryder. I smiled up at him because it was hard not to. Then I remembered the pile of other, unopened prizes. “Looks like someone left their prizes behind,” I said.

Ryder shrugged. “I couldn’t manage to get that one,” he said, pointing to the ring on my finger. “So, I kept trying.”

Realization dawned. “You went through all those prizes because you wanted this one? For me?”

“Yes,” he said like it was obvious, and he wasn’t sure why I was questioning him.

Too fucking sweet,I thought again. And I let my urges win. I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around his neck. His hands landed on my hips like they were meant to be there, and I simply kissed him.

With every second we were connected, everything else floated another mile away. Any thoughts, feelings, ideas, I might have had minutes earlier were so far in the distance, they were nothing more than an echo.

Because all I could think or feel with Ryder’s lips on mine and his arms wrapped around me was,yes.

TWENTY-SIX

SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO

Ryder

I turnedthe homemade spaghetti sauce down to a simmer and hoped it would turn out. I made it the same way my mom always did, but nothing ever tasted as good as when she cooked it.

Pulling out the pasta from the pantry, I glanced around at my new place one last time. It was still sparse and filled with all my old stuff, but I’d deep cleaned and made sure it was as presentable as it could be.

That was why Caroline was coming over anyway. After almost three weeks at my new job, I had enough money to buy a few new things for my place and start making it my own. And I wasn’t joking when I told her I wanted her to leave her touch. Glancing around my space and seeing her everywhere would be amazing.

My schedule since I’d started had been chaotic. Late nights and weekends were the norm while I was training and getting the hang of things. Although everyone told me it was temporary, and that the work I was putting in now would pay off, it felt never-ending. This was the first Friday night I hadn’t been either out with coworkers, trying to be friendly, or working late.

Not to mention, Caroline was in the midst of the summer wedding rush which meant she spent the weekdays preparing for the weddings she coordinated on the weekends.

Between both of our jobs, we’d missed each other at almost every moment. I’d seen her once since our arcadenotdate, and it happened to be at my mom and Theo’s, also known as my childhood home.

She’d been drinking wine with my mom and painting their primary bedroom when I dropped by to return their dolly they’d lent me during the moving process. At some point, we found ourselves alone, and I wasted no time pushing her up against a wall—one not wet with paint—and kissing her until the ache in my stomach somewhat eased.

It wasn’t nearly enough, but we quickly ran out of time when I heard my mom coming back down the hallway.

That was a week and a half ago, and I was craving her something fierce. All the texts and phone calls and one FaceTime in which I jacked off while she fingered herself in the bathtub, was great but they didn’t extinguish my desire.

Lost in memories, I hadn’t started the pasta like I planned when there was a knock on the door. I dropped the bag immediately and jogged through the kitchen. I took a steadying breath before I yanked the door open, but the breath did little to help when I saw her.

She was dressed casually in a white tee and light wash jeans with a bag clutched in her hands. Her hair freely fell around her face and just above her shoulders, but my eyes zeroed in on her eyes, grayer in the evening light, and the smile that graced her lips.

It wasn’t my plan to jump her—for lack of a better description—but fuck, I couldn’t help it when she smiled at me like that or when she greeted me with a low, “Hey, Trouble.”

Reaching forward, I ushered her inside and quickly closed the door. Simultaneously, I flipped the lock and backed her up against the wall in the entryway. It was reminiscent of those few seconds we got in my mom’s bedroom, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to touch her, feel her under my fingers, and taste her lips.

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