Page 8 of See You Next Winter
Wiping my mouth withthe back of my hand, I shove Ryan hard against his chest. With his jeans still around his knees, he topples backwards and lands on his ass.
“What’s wrong?”
“Three years, Ryan! You skip two winters and not so much as a phone call?”
“Who makes phone calls?” he laughs, and I want to scream.
“A text, an email, a DM. A fucking postcard would have been nice, but nothing? Nothing is…”
Agony. It’s been agony.
“It’s insulting,” I settle on, then storm off to the bathroom. After cleaning myself up, I take a long hard look in the mirror. I don't know whether I'm mad at him or myself. I thought I was doing a stellar job of getting over him, and all it took was one second in his presence to fall right back in.
Now he’s scrambling my brain with orgasms -multiple, the bastard- and I don’t know what to think. My heart is still racing, every nerve alive and humming. If he led me to bed, I’m not sure we’d ever get out of it.
Nobody does it like Ryan Richmond, because nobody’s ever stuck around long enough to learn what I really like.
Except, that’s not entirely accurate. I don’t let anyone stick around, don’t let people in. I put someone over him once, and it was the most miserable winter and a total waste of time. After that, I kept men at arm's length, until I gave up waiting. Ryan had clearly given up on me, or so I thought.
In my bedroom, I strip out of the clothes he’s made a mess of, and curse my stupid, horny, touch-starved brain for bringing him back here. Memories of him are everywhere on this mountain, but this apartment has been a place just for me. It will be impossible to ignore thoughts of him now I’ve watched him eat me out in the exact spot where I make my morning coffee.
“Are younothappy to see me?” he smirks, leaning against my door frame, still topless and gorgeous. God he looks good with a tan. “Because you looked pretty happy coming on my tongue five minutes ago.”
His gaze heats my skin as it travels from my legs to my hips and settles there. I’d slam the door in his face, but it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. I pull on soft sleep shorts and a worn t-shirt from a ski racing contest I volunteered at during my first season here.
“I saw your parents in theboulangeriethree days ago, and they said you weren’t coming home.” He doesn’t need to know I came home and cried myself to sleep, thinking he’d forgotten all about me. My pillow is probably still stained with tears.
“I didn’t know I was coming until right before our flight. It was a totally last minute decision.”
Ryan spins me some story about him and Cameron getting drunk and booking tickets on a whim, which does nothing to reassure me he genuinely wants to be here. He didn’t come here for me. He hasn’t ached the way I’ve ached for him.
“I haven't heard fromyou. In years.”
“Doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about you every day.”
My head almost spins off my shoulders. I could actually throttle him. “Have you? Because that would have been nice to know.”
His face sinks, and it’s in this moment I see him understand this is no joke to me.
“But we agreed, didn’t we? Not to get involved with each other’s lives while we were apart. You do your thing, I do mine, and then it’s, you know…‘see you next winter’.”
That pact was the stupidest mess I’ve ever gotten myself into.
“Our agreement didn’t include disappearing off the face of the earth.”
“I didn’t disappear! I was in L.A.”
Tugging the ends of my braids free, I loosen them and brush them out with less of the delicate care I usually give my hair.
“Oh, don’t worry, I know all about your fancy Hollywood life and what you’ve been up to because I still see your parents every year. I get to sit there with a smile on my face, pretending I don’t miss you while they tell me what show you’re working on and all about your beautiful new girlfriend.”
“What girlfriend?”
“The redhead!”
He laughs and shakes his head. “She’s not my girlfriend anymore.”
“Since when? And don't you dare say you just broke up because if you make me feel like a rebound, I will kick you in the dick.”
