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I’m a bundle of nerves as I drink my coffee and wait for Ryan to finish getting ready. I had agreed to make an effort to go with him to the bar this morning. The place doesn’t open for a few hours, and he wants us to go when no one else is there.
When he comes downstairs, he takes my hand and reassures me that all I have to do is say the word and we’ll come back home. But I don’t want to be that person. Ryan sees me in such a strong way. I wear his necklace that he gave me that is engraved with the word ‘fierce.’ He chose that Shakespearean quote for a reason. If he believes that about me, then maybe I should try to believe that about myself as well.
My stomach is in knots as he drives, and I don’t say a word. His hand is laced tightly with mine, and I turn cold when I see us approaching the building. He does as he promises and parks along the curb in front of the bar. I know there is no way I could handle being in the back lot with that dumpster.
I’m lost in my thoughts and don’t even notice that he’s gotten out of the car until I turn to see that my door is open and Ryan is standing there with his hand on my knee.
“Just try,” he says as he takes my hand and helps me out of the car. I’m not familiar with the front of this building, so I don’t find it terribly difficult to walk with him. I keep telling myself not to think about what is on the other side.
When we get to the door, he takes his keys, unlocks the door, and opens it for me. When I step inside, I am surprised that the place looks completely different than what I had envisioned. The interior is dark and masculine. There is a huge rich mahogany bar that runs the length of one of the walls with exposed brick and wooden shelves that hold a variety of liquors. On the opposite wall there is a fairly large platform stage. Sleek leather bar stools flank the high top tables that are scattered throughout the place.
I follow Ryan as he walks me down a small hallway that leads to stairs.
“My office is up here,” he tells me before he takes me up.
Still holding my hand, we walk up the wooden stairs. When we reach the top he tells me he’s going to get the papers from Michael’s office. When we walk in, I instantly turn around and stumble into Ryan. Behind Michael’s desk is a large window that looks over the back lot.
“Babe?”
“I want to go.”
Reaching around me, he picks up a folder from the desk and walks me out, shutting the door behind us. We walk into the office across the hall, and he tosses the folder onto his desk. I’m shaking when he turns to me, running his hands up and down my arms.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think.”
I don’t even need to explain what’s got me startled, he just knows.
Leaning against the edge of his desk, he pulls me between his legs and hugs me. I lay my head on his chest and listen to his heart while I focus on slowing mine down to match the rhythm of his. I don’t speak because I’m trying not to get myself worked up.
After a few moments, I look up and over Ryan’s shoulder. His view is out the front of the building. I watch the mist collect on the glass and slowly trickle down.
“You okay?”
I nod my head and lean it back down on his chest, letting out a slow sigh.
“I hate seeing that dumpster.” His arms tighten around me, and I find myself continuing to talk. “It’s weird because I also love it in a messed up way. It’s all I had to focus on.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“When I dream about that night, it’s always taken away from me. There’s nothing to distract me.”
“I wish I knew his name,” he says with spite.
Ryan has asked me once to tell him who the guy was, but I refused. I know he’d only kill him if given the chance. It doesn’t matter anyway; what’s done is done, and it can’t be fixed.
When I look up at him, his jaw is tightly clenched. Sliding my hand along his jawbone, I lift up on my toes to reach his mouth and give him a soft kiss. I hate that he feels this way—helpless.
He pulls me closer to him, and I feel him relax under my hand.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he says when he breaks our kiss.
“It isn’t anything like I’d thought.”
“How’s that?”
“I don’t know . . . I didn’t expect it to be so nice.” I chuckle, realizing how rude that just sounded.
“Wow. Thanks, babe,” he says, with mock annoyance.
I smile up at him. “No, that’s not what I meant. I like it. I should have known it would be nice like this by the way your loft is.”
“It’s okay. Let me just sign these papers and we can go, all right?”
“Okay.”
I watch him as he stands over his desk and finishes signing the orders. I’m relieved that I can be here and not be having a total freak out. Of course, we are here alone, which helps, but realizing that I can come here feels good. I don’t fight the smile that starts to spread across my face. When Ryan sets his pen down and turns to look at me, he grins, and asks, “What?”