Page 40 of Last Love

Against my own volition, I swoon, “Ryder.”

“I told you to face your problem, not fuck it.”

The two of us burst out in simultaneous laughter.

My giggling leads to me falling backwards into the wrinkled comforter while my eyes drift over to the crystal chandelier I fear one day in the future my panties might end up hanging from.

“From the top,” Katherine insists once her own snickers subside, “and don’t skimp on the details, either. This is the first time in our entire friendship you have an actual sex story to tell me, and I want every. Last. Word.”

An unstoppable whirlwind of words instantly launches from my lips. I gush about everything and anything and explain what happened like I’m trying to rip off Tarantino’s signature out of order style. She follows the best she can, gasping when I want her to gasp and swooning when I myself can’t stop from doing it too. Raving about the new marks littered on my body prompts me to adoringly gaze at them. Fawning over the sweet words he whispered as much as the savage ones he growled gets me not only unconsciously worked up but dead seat on sending that naked selfie after all.

Which is something I have never done before.

But that’s the crazy thing about being with Ry it seems.

No matter how old we get or how much we change part of me is still inspired to do adventurous things just to make him smile.

Ugh.

Yeah.

I definitely need more of these talk sessions.

Thank fuck, she just doesn’t charge me.

Guess letting her use me as material covers the cost.

“Cold shower here I come,” Katherine playfully pokes at the end of my raunchy recalling.

“I think I need one too…”

“So, let me do the bestie thing and say I’m so fucking proud of you! For getting some – no. Wait. A lot. For getting a lot. For not being afraid to say what you wanted…do what you wanted. For taking control and giving control and sharing control. That’s all so incredible!”

“Thank you!”

“However-”

“No, no. Can we just stop at incredible? Can we not invite couch Katherine into this conversation?”

“However,” she firmly emphasizes, “you two can’t just pick up where you left off ten something years ago. You’re both adults now. You’re both – from the sounds of it – different people, which is good because if you were both exactly the same as you were then this would be a new degree of toxic I could not and would not support.”

“Wait, you support me doing this?” There’s a ripple of uncertainty throughout my system. “Whatever…this…is?”

“I support you finding happiness, darling. That’s what best friends do.”

My soft smile is short-lived.

“We also tell one another ugly bullshit we don’t wanna hear. Incoming.”

One set of fingers literally curls into the covers.

“You basically fucked a stranger last night, and you need to truly understand that. The man who blew that back out is not the same teenager who wrote you love letters and planned to runaway to college with you. He is someone else. He is someone who has a past you need to learn, a present you need to experience, and a future you need to ask yourself if you really wanna be part of once you have the other information. I’m not saying this isn’t some magical, second chance you’ve both clearly been longing for. I’m simply saying handle this responsibly. Confront the emotions you didn’t face back then. Expose the damage that was done. Give yourself a chance to heal and truly engage in this fresh start. Most importantly,” she emphasizes yet again in strong tone, “talk to one another. You know…the thing you were too busy fucking last night to do.”

Guilty giggles escape on a gradual nod. “We’ll talk tonight.”

“Presley…”

“What?!” I innocently squeak. “We’re meeting for dinner, so there will be plenty of time then.”

“Good.” Her clipped approval is quickly followed by a sigh of relief. “You two really need to do the one thing you never got around to doing with Xander until you had reached the end.”

The reminder while irksome is necessary to hear.

She’s right.

I do need to do things differently than I did with him.

And I will because Ry is not Xander.

No matter who he is or what he’s done or what he wants to do I know I can handle it.

That I want to handle it.

That I’m built to.

He is my soulmate, and whatever work we need to do to repair that fractured yet never broken bond, I am prepared to do it.

And the numerous butterflies that are swarming around the bottom of my stomach right now tell me, so is he.

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