Strip Me Bare (6 page)

I hesitate for a beat before he pulls me onto
him, my legs hanging over one side. He slides his arms around my
waist locking me in, and then looks up at me. It’s an almost
vulnerable stare.

“Okay, so you got me where you want me,
talk.”

“This is nowhere close to where I want you,
but I’ll take it for now,” his voice calling to me like a hypnotic
melody. Ryan takes a deep breath then says, “Prison, I spent three
and a half years in prison.”

“What?” I shift my body but he holds me
tight. “Why were you in prison?”

“Because of my brother.”

“Sean? Why were you in prison because of
Sean?”

“Because he’s a drug addict piece of
shit.”

“
Ryan.
”

“It’s the truth. He’s always getting into
trouble. And sometimes he drags me down with him.”

“So what, you got popped with drugs or
something?”

“Not exactly.” His leg starts to shake. “You
know I’m not from the most desirable family. Mother’s an alcoholic,
father skipped out when I was three. Drug addict sibling.”

“That never mattered to me.”

“I know. That’s why it’s so important you
understand what I’m about to tell you.” He takes my hand almost as
if it’s his life line, “You know I would never lie to you.”

“You keep telling me,” I say dryly.

“I mean it. I also told you I love my family,
even though they’re a fucked up bunch.”

“Yeah, well, no one’s family is perfect.”

Except maybe Emily
’
s.

Without even thinking I wrap one arm around
Ryan’s shoulders. He looks up at me with those indomitable blue
eyes, the same flicker of hope resurfacing from before. I don’t
want to lead him on. But God, he feels so right. “So your family’s
a fucked up bunch…?”

“Well, that morning, you know after the
cabana? I went to grab some coffee and breakfast for us. From that
little café on the promenade you liked. I was on my way back when I
was pulled over. They said I was speeding. Maybe I was,” he rambles
nervously. “They ran my license and before I knew it the cops were
slapping hand cuffs on me for an outstanding warrant.”

“A warrant for what?”

“Failure to appear in court.”

“For what?”

“A drug charge.”

“But you don’t do drugs, or at least you
didn’t?”

“Nope, I didn’t nor do I. But like I said, my
brother does. And he’s been known to use my name on occasion.”

“He impersonated you?” I gasp.

“Yeah, scumbag. He’d only used it for little
things before, speeding tickets, disorderly conduct, crap like
that. But that time he got busted for possession and used my
information when he was arrested. He knows my social, my driver
license number not to mention he looks just like me, he’s my
identical twin.”

“So why didn’t you tell them it was Sean who
used your information?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Why?” I ask outraged. “He stole your
identity!”

“Alana,” Ryan tenses, turning his head away
from me, “you don’t understand.”

“Then make me understand,” I take his face
and force him to look at me.

Ryan feels so small now, not at all that
sexual powerhouse from last night or even the sexy confident guy
who walked into Dean & DeLuca this morning.

“Sean going to prison would have killed my
mother,” he says. “She begged me to help him.”

“Help him how?”

“He would have died in jail,” Ryan says
hastily.

The gears start grinding in my head, “You did
the time for your brother?”

Ryan puts his head against my chest and I
feel him nod, “Sean’s been in and out of trouble his whole life.
He’s emotionally unbalanced. He has anger management issues and is
manic depressive. That environment would have killed him one way or
another.”

“So you sacrificed yourself?”

“What other choice did I have?”

“You could have made Sean own up.”

Ryan huffs and drops his head back, “I was
backed into a corner, I didn’t want my mom or Sean to suffer. I
can’t change my decision. I can only regret it.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Every goddamn day,” he looks me in the eyes
with a tortured expression; it breaks my heart right in two. Those
years must have been agony.

“You could have told me, Ryan. Sent me a
letter, something.”

“I couldn’t. I didn’t want you finding me. I
couldn’t bear for you to see me like that. I’d rather have you
think I was an asshole then some convicted felon.”

“But you weren’t.”

“I looked like one.”

“Ryan, do you know what the last five years
have been like for me? Wondering what happened to you?”

“I’m sorry I did that to you Alana, it’s all
I can say.”

“I’m sorry too,” I look away sadly, wondering
if I will ever get over this gnawing pain. Ryan puts his finger
under my chin to bring my face back to his, when something
horrifying dawns on me. “Where was Sean’s warrant issued?”

“Asbury Park.”

Fuck.

Asbury, which it’s also known as, has two
sections. The eastern beach area with restaurants, shops and a
concert hall that is frequented by both tourists and locals. And
the western side, away from the ocean, which is riddled with low
income housing, dilapidated buildings, gangs and drugs.

Asbury is also in my father’s court
district.

“Who…who convicted you?” I swallow the lump
in my throat. There are several superior court judges who try
criminal cases.

Ryan clams up immediately.

“Who?” I press him.

“Judge Remington.”

I blanche. Of course, my father.

This story just gets better and better.

My head starts to pound, “Is that part of the
reason why you stayed away?”

Ryan nods.

Holy hell, not even the creators of Law and
Order could make this shit up.

I turn over all of this new information in my
head. Ryan doing time for his brother, my father convicting him, me
spending the last five years wondering what I did wrong, only to
find out it wasn’t my fault at all.

The world suddenly becomes a blur of delusion
and reality.

There’s an unexpected shift inside me. The
plausibility I can give Ryan a second chance is suddenly real;
alarmingly real.

I don’t know how to find the words.
Expressing what I feel is challenging for me on so many levels, but
I want him.

I’ve always wanted him.

I reach down and grab Ryan’s face, tilting it
up to mine. He freezes under my stare; a blonde waterfall of my
hair falling around us. I inch in slowly, without closing my eyes
and press my lips gently against his. He doesn’t move, not a
muscle, as our mouths connect. He just lets me in; in his heart, in
his head, and in his soul as he succumbs to my kiss.

And I do the same.

His hands suddenly trap my head in place as
he kisses me harder, his tongue reclaiming what was once his.

And it’s the exact same kiss from the cabana;
slow and torrid and full of love.

“Can you stay?” Ryan asks out of breath and
full of need.

“Huh?” I answer a little starry-eyed. That
was one sidewalk-singeing kiss.

“Can you stay in the city with me
tonight?”

“Um,” I blink out of my haze, “I don’t think
that’s a good idea.”

Ryan looks disappointed.

“I need some time to think on my own. To sort
things out.” I look at my watch, 4:20 PM. If I leave now I can
catch the 5:07 home. Not that I really want to leave. Ryan. Ever
again. But I need to hash out everything my brain is thinking and
everything my body is feeling.

“Will you walk me to Penn station?” I ask
him.

He nods, reluctantly.

I start to shift off him, but he grabs me. I
can see what he wants, his eyes giving him away. But I can’t stay.
Not today. But soon, I think. Very soon.

We head out of Bryant Park down Broadway
towards the train. Holding hands the whole time. As we walk, I
can’t help but think about how surreal this day has been. One
chance encounter has rearranged my entire world and nothing is
going to be the same. There’s still some fear in me though, that
Ryan will pull another disappearing act. I believe everything he
told me, but putting my full trust in him again? That may take a
while.

Ryan and I make our way to Madison Square
Garden with people coming and going in every direction. There’s an
outside entrance to NJ transit, which is where I need to catch the
train. I stand at the top of the steps, Ryan’s hands firmly around
my waist.

“When will I see you again?” he asks.

“Wednesday,” I tell him. “I’ll be in the city
looking at apartments in the morning, then I’ll have the rest of
the day free,” I pull a strand of blonde hair away from my face;
standing near the stairwell is like being in a wind tunnel.

“Wednesday,” he agrees.

I give him a soft peck on the cheek then turn
to leave, but he grabs my arm and slams me into his chest. Then he
kisses me. Hard. Right there in the middle of pedestrian traffic,
and it’s the kind of kiss that slows time, increases heart rates
and brings a city block to its knees.

Ryan exhales breathing my name. His eyes
closed, his forehead planted to mine. Now I really need to leave,
because my willpower is dissolving. One more second in his arms and
I am spending the night in the city. Maybe the week. Possibly the
month.

I glance at my watch. The train will be here
in two minutes. “I have to go,” I say softly, wiping some of my lip
gloss away from his mouth.

“Wednesday,” he stipulates.

“Wednesday,” I agree, and then turn to leave.
Mustering all the strength I have to walk down the stairs and away
from the one man who not once, but twice, shocked my world
alive.

“Alana!” I hear Ryan call and I turn on the
stairs. “I’m not disappearing, not this time.”

I look at him conspicuously.

“Time will tell, Ryan. Time will tell.”

“It will take an act of God to keep me away,”
he professes.

I smirk hopefully as I disappear out of
sight.

I hop onto the train and walk the three
stairs down to the lower level. I hand the conductor my ticket to
punch then settle back in one of the light blue pleather seats. The
tracks making a clicking sound as the train pulls away. I stare out
the window daydreaming about Ryan. His hands, his face, his eyes
his lips. Oh, this is so bad. He’s back in my life for one day and
I’m already hooked. I pull out my phone and text Emily asking if
she is free to meet for dinner. Not a minute later she replies with
a time and place. I know she is salivating for details.

The train pulls into my stop at 6:23 PM.
Dinner time, perfect. I’m starving, even though my stomach is in
knots. I hop into my little white Audi and head over to the Italian
restaurant Emily suggested. It’s a little hole in the wall where
you can get the best Ruffino and penne vodka this side of Little
Italy. I pull into the parking lot and quickly turn off the engine.
When I get inside I find Emily sitting at a table in the back, the
lights are dim and there are candles dripping with wax in Chianti
bottles, giving the room a romantic glow. But she’s not alone.

“Uncle John,” I say as I walk up to the
table, glancing at Emily. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

He stands and gives me a bear hug. He’s the
most warm, affectionate man I know, next to Ryan, and sometimes I
consider him more of a father then my own. “I missed my girl,” he
looks down at Emily. “She said she was meeting you here and I
thought I would stop by and have a drink. See how everything went
last night,” he gives her a knowing smile.

I nearly tear at the seams.

“Dad, please. Like I would give you details,”
Emily smiles.

“Probably for the best,” he grins. My uncle
John has all the traits of my father; he’s a tall, stocky man with
warm brown eyes and dark black hair. Except his is thinning and not
gray yet.