Page 94 of Female Fantasy
Don’t get me wrong. He’s really fucking hot. And respectful. A real man.
But boy, can he talk.
I should probably cut him off, right? If Nico were here, he’d definitely cut him off. Make some quippy comment about disaster insurance and ask how Ryan Mare plans on single-handedly stopping West Coast flooding while sitting in a glass office building full of yuppies in Midtown Manhattan.
Nico.
Now,healways keeps me guessing. I never know what he’s going to do next. He may get under my skin and piss me off to no end sometimes—like earlier, when he called me delusional—but he always manages to surprise me.
No, Joonie.
Bad.
You’re with Ryan Mare now.
Ryan. Mare.
The real-life Ryke.
There’s no reason for you to keep thinking about Nico.
But I wonder what Nico’s doing right now.Is he with that woman in Harlem? Did he take her out for lunch? Is he lecturing her about 5G networks and long-term radiation or making fun of the way she holds her knife and fork? Or did they decide to forgo lunch altogether and stay in? Is he whispering dirty words against the small of her back, making her laugh and shudder in equal measure? Does his back-and-forth with every girl serve as foreplay, or am I special?
Suddenly, the idea of Nico touching another woman, callingherspecial, is enough to send my lunch back up my esophagus.
Why?
Why am I sitting here across from the man of my dreams, someone who literally feels too good to be true, thinking about Nico?
You know why, a voice in my head says. Nico’s voice.Because this is real.
I snap out of my daydream, alarmed. Sirens blare in my head.
Do I have…real feelings for Nico?
My brother’s best friend?
The man who, until this week, I considered my enemy?
“It’s really nice to meet you, Joonie,” Ryan Mare says, oblivious to the fact that I’ve floated so far outside of my body, I’ve nearly reached Maecanea. “You know, you are really beautiful.”
“That’s a very cool necklace,” I blurt out, suddenly itchy.
He lets out one of Ryke’s signature full-chested laughs. “Why, thank you. The pendant’s an heirloom, actually. See?”
I inch closer so I can study the engraving.
Then my mouth drops open.
Because etched on the pendant?
The lettersMMC.
This cannot be real life.
“What does that stand for?” I ask, unable to resist the urge to scratch my neck. My skin is on fire.
His cheeks flush with embarrassment. “It’s my last name, followed by my first name. Mare, Marrion Chad.”
