Really? The first words I say to him after all this time are to correct him on my best friend’s birth time?
“Right.” He nods, hands in his pockets, looking me up and down. I’ve still got a wet spot on my T-shirt from my spilled drink, and I’m frozen in shock. Not exactly the impression I wanted to make the first time I saw him again. “So, what’s new with you?”
Is this really happening? How is he so casual right now? Am I the only one in this situation who feels completely thrown off-balance?
He always hated when I wore my heels because we’d be the same height, or in his opinion worse than that, I’d be taller. He’s six feet on his best day, but we all know that means somewhere around five-ten. And right now, he’s standing on a curb to give himself the added inches to be able to stand over me.
Metaphorically I feel about two feet tall, as it is.
“Indy, what’s new with you?” he repeats.
“Flying.”
He nods again. “Always on the road.” The insinuation is heavy in the air, and there’s something about the inflection in the way he says it that speaks volumes. I cheated because you were always on the road. It’s your fault there was someone else in our bed. “Will you be at Kevin and Maggie’s wedding or are you flying during that too?”
What the hell? It was Alex’s suggestion for me to become a flight attendant. The financial firm he’s a part of offered me a job right out of college with a much higher salary than his. Even though I went to school for business, the kind of work he does wasn’t for me, so I detoured to a completely different route. One that would allow me to travel and socialize. He was stoked for me when I got on with the hockey team last year, or so I thought.
“I’ll…um…yeah, I’ll be there.” This is going horribly. I’m a fumbling mess. “Will you…will you be there too?”
“Of course. I’m with the group almost every day. I can’t wait.” He looks down for a moment, kicking the cement with his shoe. “Maggie said she’s giving you a plus-one. I have one too. I’m planning to use it, so I thought it’d be the right thing to give you a heads-up.”
I wasn’t aware I was so forgettable. It’s a humbling and humiliating revelation. Alex has etched his way onto my heart, and I assumed that sentiment was mutual. I’d rather he regret our relationship or maybe even wish that we had never crossed paths. But to look at me as if I’m the most forgettable woman in the world hurts more than the rest ever could.
“Are you bringing someone?” he continues.
“Blue.”
Somehow the name pulls me into focus to find Ryan standing outside of the players’ entrance. Gym bag slung over his shoulder, hands in his pockets. His eyes bounce to Alex then back to me, as if he were studying the situation.
“Holy shit,” Kevin whispers. “Ryan Shay.”
In my periphery, I can see Kevin, Alex, and two of my old friends, lightly smacking each other to ensure everyone sees who just walked out of the arena.
Ryan’s eyes dart between Alex and me again, and maybe it’s the fact that I’m about two seconds away from crying or that he can physically see that I’m living out my worst nightmare, but he drops his gym bag and in a few quick strides, charges towards me.
Before I can think any further, his palms cup my face, long fingers threading into my ponytail, and his lips are on mine.
Soft lips, warm to the touch. Commanding yet measured, as I’d expect any kiss from Ryan Shay to be. My mouth yields to his, parting to take him deeper and his tongue ever so slightly sweeps across mine in an electrifying slide. One of his hands drops, curving around my throat to bracket the back of my neck as the other pulls my hips to his.
His imposing touch makes me feel small and the deliciously domineering way in which he kisses me makes me feel entirely out of control.
I knew I’d like it. I knew it would be good, but what I didn’t expect was to feel light as a feather from my fingers to my toes. To fall completely under a spell just from feeling his mouth, especially when he told me I’d never have it.
My palms find his shoulders, sliding over his broad frame to hook around the back of his neck. A small, unpermitted moan creeps up my throat and I feel Ryan’s lips curve up against mine before pulling away.
Moving his hand to my lower back, he presses my body into his. His lips dot a map of soft kisses along my jaw, until his mouth ghosts my ear, whispering. “Are you okay?”
My chest is heaving uncontrollably so no, I’m not okay. What the hell was that? And when can we do it again?
I lie, nodding my head against him.
He breaks our connection to look around me. “Hey, I’m Ryan.”
Oh my God, Alex is here.
Then Ryan continues. “How do you know my girlfriend?”
An uncomfortable breath escapes Alex as he steps off the curb to his natural height. “I uh…we used to…”
Now who’s fumbling?
Ryan slides a forearm around the front of my shoulders, holding my back to his chest. He nods towards Alex’s jersey. “Oh,” Ryan says sweetly, patronizingly. “You’re a fan of mine.”
I didn’t notice the Devils jersey he had on, but I especially didn’t pick up on the fact there’s a number five on the front and my fake boyfriend’s last name on the back.
I have to bite my lip to keep it from curving.
“Were you waiting for an autograph?” Ryan continues.
Is it too soon to tell him I love him? Because I think I might love him in this moment.
“Yes!”
“Kev,” Alex quietly scolds.
“It’s Ryan fucking Shay.” Kevin rolls his eyes, pulls out a Sharpie, and turns around for Ryan to sign his jersey.
He continues to autograph the other two guys’ as well, but Alex goes on to claim the jersey he’s wearing isn’t his and doesn’t want to return it to the “owner” with Sharpie on it.
“We should get home.” Ryan slides his hand to my lower back, turning me towards his car. “See you at the wedding, huh?” he calls to the guys over my shoulder before placing another lingering kiss on my temple for them to see.
He opens the passenger door for me and once I’m inside, he gets down on his haunches, making us eye level. “Are you okay?”
No. Yes. What the hell just happened?
I nod. Quickly, maybe too quickly, but I’m more okay than I ever thought I would be just five minutes ago.
My gaze drops to Ryan’s lips and the bucket list item he refused. I don’t feel comfortable faking intimacy.
“What was that?” My words are low, breathy, hopeful for him to lean in and kiss me again.
He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. My slick ponytail must’ve gotten messed up while his fingers were threaded through it and his mouth was on mine.
“It was acting, Ind.”
Oh.
The balloon filled with reckless hope pops in my chest.
“I thought kissing was off the table. You didn’t want to fake it.”
“I made an exception. You were drowning out there. Besides, I owed you a rescue after I bombed at the fall banquet. Call it even?”
Call it even? He just gave me the best kiss of my life and it was to settle a score?