Holding Her Hand (Reed Brothers Book 15) (10 page)

She comes out a few minutes later and she’s wearing black yoga pants that hug her ass, and a sheer t-shirt. Her face is wiped clean and it’s shiny, and she has pulled her hair back in a ponytail.

“
Do I look acceptable
?” she asks. She halts in
the entry to the kitchen.

“
Beautiful
,” I tell her.

Her cheeks flush. “
Thank you
.”

“
I like this look on you
.”

She blows out a breath. “
I live for days I can be normal. You have no idea
.”

“
Define normal
.”

“
We travel a lot
,” she says. “
When we
’
re playing, we have to dress the part, and there
’
s always a press tour. Sometimes my soul just craves quiet times, times when I can wipe off the makeup,
take off the gloves, and just be me
.” She makes a little pose. “
This is me
,” she says. “
Take it or leave it
.”

“
Take it
,” I rush to say. “
I
’
m taking it
.”

She tilts her head to the side. “
Are you sure you want it
?”

I walk to her and cup her cheek with my palm. “
More sure than I have ever been about anything
.”

She smiles at me and my heart trips in my chest. “
What movie did you get
?”

“
A scary
one
,” I tell her.

“
Oh, I hate scary movies
.”

“
Oh
,” I say. “
I can get a different one
.”

“
No, I mean I love scary movies, but they really scare me. You might have to spend the night to keep me from freaking out
.”

Spend the night? “
I
’
ll buy you a scary movie every night
,
if that
’
s the case. Every. Single. Night
.” I grin at her, and she rolls her eyes.

“
I
’
ll sleep with the lights on
.”

“
Did you
just take back my invitation
?”

“
For now
,” she says, ducking her head.

I follow her to the couch, where she waits for me to take a seat. Then she sits down with her thigh pressed alongside mine. I lift my arm to rest on the back of the sofa, and she draws her legs up so that she’s leaning on me. “
You can start it
.”

I turn on the captions on her TV, and then start the movie. She’s tense beside
me, and I love having her this close. She picks up a different remote and the lights in the room go dim. “
Is this okay
?” she asks. I can see her sign in the light the TV casts. She leans into me a little closer.

“Yes, it’s fine,” I say out loud. She looks up at me and smiles, and my heart does that pitter-patter thing it’s been doing since I got here, only it’s getting worse.

I almost worry
that she can hear it. But then again, I don’t care if she can. I want her to know how much she affects me. I want her to know how much I like her, how much I respect her, and I also want her to know how much I want her.

Because I do.

Lark

We’re thirty minutes into the movie when I turn my head toward Ryan’s shoulder and scream into his shirt, which is balled in my tight-fisted grip. He chuckles and takes the remote switch from me to turn the lights up. Then he pauses the movie.

With tender fingers, he pries my hands loose. His shirt was squeezed so tightly that it looks like I wrung it out with my fingernails. I brush
it down, trying to make it flat again.

“
Why did you turn the lights on?”
I ask.

“
I wanted to ask if you’re all right
,” he says, “
but I couldn’t see your hands in the dark.
” He smiles at me.

“
Why aren
’
t you afraid?”

He shrugs. “It’s not scary.”

“
What?
” I shriek with my hands, making my gestures big as I exaggerate. “
There was scary music
,
and then he offs her with a screwdriver with almost
no warning.”

His brow furrows. “
There was scary music?”

I cover my gasp with my hand.
He can’t hear the scary music
. Why didn’t I think of that? I’m the worst date ever. “
You can’t hear the dum-dum-dum-dum-dum music. The music that says something is lurking around the corner and it’s going to eat you
.” I make a grab like I’m going for his face.

He laughs, grabs me, and rolls me beneath him
on the couch. He’s reclining on his side, shoved in amongst the cushions, halfway hovering over me. He’s laughing so hard his chest is shaking. When he finally calms down, he says, “
I can’t hear dum dum dum dum
.” He shrugs. “
I don’t think I’m missing much. I knew he was in the closet
.”

“
How’d you know he was in the closet?”

“There was a trail of blood leading to it.”

“There was?”

He laughs
again. “
Yes, there was.”

I know how I missed it. I was thinking about how nice it was sitting next to Ryan in the dark, right up until the minute the scary music started. “
You want to turn it off?”

“Why?”
He looks down at me, his eyes touching every part of my face like he’s memorizing my features. My heart starts to pound.

“Because you can’t hear the music and it’s not scary to you.”

He points
to his chest.
“You think I’m going to give up an opportunity to have you squealing in my arms? My mother didn’t raise a fool.”
He shakes his head.
“Let’s finish it.”

He leans over me and grabs the remote, but we don’t sit up. He dims the lights and I roll to face the TV. Ryan props his head in his palm and puts one hand on my hip.

He growls a little as he brushes my hair down between us. Then
his lips touch the tender skin of my shoulder where my t-shirt has slipped. He makes a breathy little moan as he inhales deeply.

“You smell good,” he says out loud. He’s really hard to understand, and if he wasn’t still sniffing me, I’d have no clue at all what he said. But I think I get it. He presses a button and the movie starts again. His hand draws a little circle on my hip as we watch.
It suddenly doesn’t seem quite as scary. What’s much more scary is how his fingers are playing along the hip of my yoga pants.

I draw in a quick breath when his fingers slip beneath the edge of my shirt to tickle my waist. His fingers stop moving. I cover his hand with mine and give it a squeeze.
Don’t stop. It feels really good
, I plead in my head. But the lights are low and he can’t hear or
see me. He kisses my shoulder again and snuggles in closer as his fingers resume their gentle swirls.

My heart pounds like a jackhammer in my chest. I press my face into the pillow and bite the edge of it. I have never, ever felt like this before. This is how I always imagined it would be, but I’d never found it. Of course, I’ve never been vulnerable with anyone before, either, and I’ve never
let anyone see my scars.

His fingers stop their slow stroll when he skims across the bumpy scars on my stomach. Once again, I cover his hand and press him against me.
Don’t stop
, I will in my mind.
It feels good
. This feels so good. He feels so good. He kisses the side of my neck and nips the sensitive skin beneath my ear, then laves it with his tongue to soothe the sting.

With a gentle nudge
at my shoulder, Ryan rolls me forward onto my belly a little and I turn my face toward the TV. But I’m not watching TV. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly and instead concentrate on the way he’s lifting the back of my shirt. His hand explores the ridges and bumps of my scars with gentle sweeps of his fingertips, soft rubs with the flat of his palm, and simple swipes of his thumb. He hooks a finger in
my bra strap and tugs it, silently asking for my permission and then waiting to get it. I nod into my pillow. He groans as he unhooks my bra and pushes the straps to the side.

With gentle motions and solid rubs, Ryan soothes me and discombobulates me all at once. He’s gentle but firm, tender but harsh, soft but hard. His fingers find the muscles around my ribs and start to press a little harder.
I moan. I can’t help it.

He chuckles. Does he know I did that?

I roll all the way onto my belly and tuck my arms under the pillow, holding on to it for dear life. Ryan throws a leg over my bottom and pushes my shirt higher. Then his lips join his hand. His breath is hot and humid, and his lips are soft and tender.

A slow burn begins to thrum between my thighs and I rock my hips into the sofa
trying to ease the ache. Ryan keeps on exploring my back, leaving no inch untouched, no crease unexplored, no dip untried. No heart untouched.

With his gentle fingers and his questing lips, he’s offering me something no one ever has. He’s accepting my body, and me by extension, with no holds barred. He’s treating me like I’m made of glass, while letting me know he wants to see more of me, maybe
even
have
more of me.

Suddenly, the light flips on above us. Ryan freezes, but only for a moment. Then he quickly and efficiently hooks my bra strap behind me and he pulls my shirt down. He sits up, and so do I.

Wren stands in the entryway, and she’s a wreck. Her makeup runs in dark rivulets down her face.

“I should go
,” Ryan says to me.

I don’t want him to go, but I need to find out what’s
wrong with Wren. She hasn’t been home since she left angry, and I have no idea where she’s been. But the last time she looked like this, it was because the asshole she had been seeing cheated on her.

“Wren,” I say. “What happened?”

She looks at Ryan and then at me, and then she stomps toward her room and slams her door.

“
Is she okay?
” Ryan asks. “
Or do I need to go kick someone’s ass?”
He looks
down at me, his brow marred with worry.

It makes my heart expand two sizes to know that he would take care of one of my sisters, even though he doesn’t know her.

“
I’m sure she’s fine
,” I tell him. “
I had better go see what’s wrong
.”

“
We didn’t finish the movie
.” He tucks a lock of hair that has fallen down behind my ear.

“I know.”

“We didn’t finish a lot of things.”
He grins.

A smile tugs
at my lips as heat suffuses my face. “
I know
.”

He pulls me to him and I press my forehead against his chest, taking a moment to breathe him in. He smells like detergent and pure, unadulterated man.

Ryan squeezes my shoulders and then runs his cupped hands down my arms. Then he surprises the hell out of me when he lifts my arm and presses a kiss against the scars on my inner wrist. I try to pull
out of his grasp, but he holds tight, his eyes meeting mine as his lips linger. He breathes me in, his warm mouth pressed against my skin.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” he says.

“I did too.”

He takes in a deep breath, almost like he’s fortifying himself, and then he says,
“My mother’s birthday is this weekend. We’re having a party. I’d like for you to come with me.”

I jerk my head back, completely
shocked by his request.
“You want me to meet your mother?”

He nods, and I can tell he’s nervous by the way his eyes jerk around my face.
“I’d like for you to meet my whole family.”

“Why?”
I look into his eyes, hoping I’ll find the truth there.

“Because I like you a lot, and I want you to meet my mom and dad, and the rest of my family. If you want to, that is. Only if you want to.”

“I want
to,”
I say tentatively.

“Are you sure?”
He bends down to look into my eyes.

“I’m sure. Thank you for the invitation.”
I smile at him, and heat floods my face again.

“You take my breath away on a normal day, but when your cheeks turn pink, I feel like you’ll never give the breath back.”
He laughs.

“I get points for blushing?”
I ask.