Page 73 of Only the Small Bones
I hadn’t changed my mind, though. I couldn’t. Not if we planned on taking things to the next level.
Grabbing the box of matchsticks off the coffee table, I hustled around the room, lighting every pillar candle positioned on iron holders throughout.
I lit the candlesticks in the kitchen next, then fussed with the place settings on the island for the fifth time. I might’ve gone overboard, but I wanted this night to be special for him. The plan was to make love by the end of it—if the truth didn’t end up costing me in the worst way possible. Even if it did, I needed him to know he was worth the effort.
I debated plating the food I’d ordered, but decided to leave it warming in the oven in case he wasn’t ready to eat yet.
My nerves were frazzled, and it being Christmas Eve didn’t help. Ryan had no idea what this day meant to me. He’d understand soon, though, and the idea of him looking at me differently afterward made my body feel weak. I gripped the edge of the island to steady myself.
Bell chimes rang from my phone. Three in quick succession, letting me know my elevator was on the move.Ryan’s here.
Taking another look around, I hurried to the Christmas tree, turning the light setting to fade. I loosened the tuck on the turtleneck I wore, then adjusted my belt buckle before striding down the hall to meet Ryan at the door. Letting out a quick breath, I opened it with a smile.
Ryan wore a look I hadn’t seen since the early days of him living here.Anger.He quickly covered it with a small contrived smile of his own. Something wasn’t right. I could feel it. To be fair, I’d been feeling it since the day we met. Nothing had been right since then.
Ryan kissed me, his cold hands cradling my face. Our kisses tended to feel desperate or comforting—or a combination of both. This one felt like an escape or a distraction. Like he kissed me to get his mind off something. Maybe even to prove something. Ryan in the mood-to-prove was a dangerous thing. It didn’t feel related to his desire to have sex, though. On some fundamental level, I knew this was separate from that.
Sure enough, when he pulled back, his smile seemed genuine. Whatever test that was, I’d obviously passed it. Or maybe he’d been testing himself, not me.
Slipping past me, he hung his coat in the closet while I watched him, my hand still gripping the door. I shook myself out of my confusion and closed it.
Ryan slid his arms around my waist. I relaxed, returning his embrace. Maybe what happened at the front door was nothing. Maybe I’d misinterpreted his anxiety. It made sense for us to be nervous. I let the incident go.
“You smell amazing,” I whispered, massaging his back with my fingers. He wore a ribbed, long sleeved top. He seemed to prefer the fitted look. I didn’t mind one bit. “You also look good in green.” His outfit complimented my eyes, and my all-black ensemble matched his. “Great minds think alike, they say.”
Ryan gave a muted laugh, but I felt the rumble of it between our chests. He tugged the neck down on my shirt, breathing in the cologne I’d spritzed myself with.
“It’s new. You like it?”
Ryan nodded, kissing below my ear before pulling away. He checked me out, his gaze hungry as he took his time making his way down my body.
When his eyes returned to my face they were hard again, making my heart stutter with fear and confusion once more. He averted his gaze, angling his chin toward his shoulder.
“Hey.” I waited until he’d turned back to me. His eyes were soft again, almost sad. “Are you okay?”
Ryan released a cynical sounding huff, sinking his hands into his straightened hair before strolling down the hall. He froze when he reached the living room, absorbing the scene I’d created. Careful not to crush the rose petals as he followed their trail to the center of the room, he spun in a slow circle, eyes wide.
He looked beautiful bathed in candlelight. The flames defied logic in his presence, flickering higher and seemingly arching toward him. Lured by the tortured parts that never truly abandoned him, not even in moments of happiness.
We weren’t experiencing one of those happy moments now, no matter how hard he tried to project otherwise.
He faced the kitchen now, his sharp intake of breath cutting through the room upon seeing the recreated dinner scene fromHis Eternal Love.Long stemmed red roses lined the counters, and a pair of five-arm candelabras lit up the island.
Ryan’s gaze crashed into mine, and his hands flew to his neck like he was choking on the words he couldn’t get out. His fingers balled into fists, resting against his throat. Rage and sadness returned, eclipsing the spark of gratitude in his eyes.
My heart skipped a beat, watching him struggle, then felt as if it were failing me altogether when things began to take a turn for the worse.
Ryan charged at me, grabbing me by the shirt before assaulting me with an anguished kiss. I tried prying him off, but it seemed to intensify his frenzy. I gave into it, giving him what he needed—what we both needed—my desperation matching his.
He backed away once suffocation became a real threat, both of us reluctantly uncurling our fingers from each other’s clothes. His eyes were squeezed shut, a dreamy sort of expression spreading across his face.
“Ryan,” I breathed, feeling behind me for the wall that branched off from the hallway. I needed the support.
His eyelids popped open at hearing his name, and I wondered if it was the shameless plea in my tone that caught his attention. His smile turned shaky, then fell altogether. Despair extinguishing the fire in his gaze.
I realized it was my eyes. It was meeting my gaze that made him conflicted, that took away everything good in him. From the way his jaw ticked I assumed he saw something there he hadn’t seen before, or maybe it was something he could no longer ignore.
He knows what you’ve done.
