Page 11 of You Before Me

He grins. “Oh, I'm way better,” he brags.

I roll my eyes and chuckle. “Owen, this is Ryan. Ryan, this is my cocky, baby brother, Owen.”

Ryan shakes Owen's outstretched hand as he says, “Nice to meet you.” He tilts his head at me. “I didn't know you were seeing someone.”

“Don't worry, Owen. This is our first date, and somehow, I think I'll end up being Gabe's dirty, little secret.” Ryan laughs, then changes the subject. “Congrats on winning. You played great.”

“Thanks.” He turns to me once more. “You brought her here? As a date? No wonder you're single.” He laughs.

“I asked if it was okay, and she said yes. Besides, we're about to go somewhere else. Who's coming to pick you up?”

“I'm catching a ride with one of my friends.” He looks over his shoulder, and someone waves him over. “I better go. Nice to meet you, Ryan.”

“You too.”

“I'll see you soon, Gabe?”

“Yeah. Let Mom know I'll be home for supper Sunday,” I tell him.

“Will do. Later!”

He turns and jogs towards his friend. Ryan steps to stand in front of me, a sneaky smile on her lips as she loosely wraps her arms around my waist.

“Where to next, Officer?”

“Do you like cake?” I question.

She giggles, a ridiculously girly giggle. “Of course I do.”

“Then allow me to lead the way.” Once she hooks her arm around my elbow and we start walking out of the stadium, I tell her where we're going. “There's a cafe not to far from here, and they have some of the best cakes I've ever had. I thought we could go there for something sweet to eat, and then walk around downtown or whatever you want to do.”

“Sounds good to me.”

At the cafe, Ryan gets a slice of German chocolate cake while I settle for a slice of upside down pineapple cake. She asks if they have any Sunkist, but they don't so she orders water instead. We're sitting at a little, high table, our knees touching.

“You really like Sunkist, don't you?”

Ryan just took a bite, so she only nods. After she swallows, she says, “It's that or water. I'm slightly addicted to it. Always have been.”

“Mhm.” I take a delicious bite myself, and then ask, “What's one of your favorite things to do?”

Without any hesitation whatsoever, the words fly out of her mouth. “Have sex.”

She catches me off guard with her answer, my fork pausing halfway to my mouth. Ryan's eyes widen as if she's just now realizing she said that.

“Shit. I mean, crap. Sorry. That's, um, not a good, ladylike thing to say.” Her cheeks flush a light pink, her eyes focused on her cake. Something tells me this is the first and last time I'll ever see her blush because it

doesn't seem like something she does often. “I don't really have a favorite thing. If it's fun or if there's some sort of thrill to it, then I'm happy. Kind of goes back to what I said about my major. Nothing sparks a passion in me. Even simple activities apparently because I can't even pick a favorite, appropriate, thing I like to do.” Ryan's dark green eyes peek at me from underneath her lashes. “Sorry, I didn't mean to ramble.”

“Ramble away. I don't mind.” I give her a kind smile because it almost seems that her own answer threw her for a loop, and she's slightly uncomfortable now. It doesn't seem to fit her personality, but it does make her more real to me. “And you do have a passion of sorts. Liking things that thrill you, as you say. It sounds like you're an adventurous, daring type of person.”

Ryan laughs. She's so sexy when she does. Whatever emotions she's dealing with disappears into simple, carefree joy when she laughs. “Hm. Not so sure about adventurous. Daring seems to fit me, I guess. What about you? What else in your life fuels you besides your job? That does fuel you, right?”

“Oh yeah, I love what I do. I also like to go out to one of my dad's pieces of land and shoot targets with some of the guys in my family. We get together at least one Saturday a month just for that.”

She shakes her head slightly, her hair falling forward to cover that shoulder I'm dying to touch again. The hand in my lap gains a mind of its own as it moves to rest on her knee.

“What?” I ask, referring to her head shaking.

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