The First Time is the Hardest: An Austin Brothers Novella (Austin Brothers Series Book 1) (5 page)

“HOW YOU HOLDING
up, darlin’?” Betty barreled into the kitchen, hands full of dirty plates.

“I’m okay.” My feet hurt like a bitch, and my black tee stuck to me like a second skin, but I was okay.

“It’s crazy out there.” She leaned around me and dumped the plates into the sink, causing suds to splash my shirt. “We could really use a spare pair of hands out front.”

“I- I don’t know, Betty. You said I could stay back here.”

“And you can. It’d just make my life a darn sight easier if I had someone out front who actually knew what the hell they were doing.”

Rubbing the back of my hand across my damp forehead, I squeezed my eyes shut. It wasn’t Betty’s intention to guilt me into it; it was just her way. She spoke first then thought about it later.

“Hmm, sure, I guess I can. For a little while.”

“Atta girl. Anyone even looks at you wrong, you come straight to me, got it? Now grab a clean shirt from the locker and take the back section.”

Betty disappeared through the swinging door, and I rinsed my hands and went in search of a shirt. For the next two hours, all I had to do was take orders, smile, and serve tables. As long as no one asked me any questions about Lucas or threw me too many pity glances, I could get through one shift.

~

An hour into service, things started to quiet down. Booths emptied and were replaced with the odd guy or couple out for a drink. Old men sat propped at the bar watching ESPN on the flat screen above the bar. I carried out my duties and kept my head down, but as I headed toward the back of the bar, the hairs along my neck electrified.

My eyes found him immediately, sitting in the booth in the darkest corner of the bar. His stormy eyes burned into me, anger swirling in their depths. The intensity caused me to suck in a sharp breath. Ryan didn't move or flinch or make any effort to beckon me over. He just stared.

And then I noticed her.

The petite blonde curled into his side.

I hadn't seen her before, too entranced by him and the darkness surrounding him. He wore it like a cloak, shielding him, keeping me out. Pain twisted on his face, and I wanted to go to him and wrap him in my arms the way I had at the motel.

But then she curled her arm around his and leaned in close to his ear.

He didn't look away from me.

The blonde continued to whisper something—I didn't need to take two guesses at what—but he remained, eyes locked on mine, unmoving.

“Mila.” Stephanie, the other waitress, penetrated my trance, and I blinked twice before turning to her. “Yes?”

“Are you okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”

No, not a ghost.

Ryan was all too real, and he was leaving with the blonde.

My heart plummeted, and I barged past Stephanie to get out of here. I rushed through the swinging door and called, “I'm taking five.”

Betty wouldn't ask questions.

No one would.

Not of the girl barely holding on by a thread.

~

I moved through the last hour of my shift in a daze. Everyone left me alone, which was no doubt Betty's doing. I cleaned tables, collected glasses, and stacked them in the wash area, but my mind was elsewhere.

When I'd first laid eyes on Ryan, relief replaced some of the anxiety that had taken up permanent residency in me. Sure, I could tell he was pissed—he had every right to be. But he was here. I could apologize, clear the air. But then I'd spotted the pretty blonde sidled up to him, and my heart cracked.

I hadn't thought it possible since it was already shattered from losing Lucas.

But I'd felt it.

The deep sense of rejection and hurt right where my heart lay.

“You can take off, Mila, darlin’. I'll see you tomorrow.”

I jumped, clutching my chest. “Shit, you scared the crap out of me, Betty.”

Her deep laughter filled the space between us, and she said, “Go on now, or I'll change my mind and make you work the twilight shift.”

I followed her line of sight to the gray-haired guy slumped over the bar.

“Can't you just call him a cab?”

“Old Brantley Ray is harmless. He's as lonely as a mule put out to pasture. I'll let him drink away his sorrows for another hour.”

“Okay. I'll see you next week, I guess.”

I grabbed my purse from my locker and left the bar. It was late, past eleven. Mom had tried to insist that Dad pick me up, but I had refused. I needed to clear my head.

The air was cool, but I welcomed it, enjoying the way it felt against my clammy skin. The Lasso was only two blocks from my house, and part of me wished it were farther. My run-in with Ryan had left me more confused than ever.

“You left.”

I spun around, my eyes searching the darkness for him. “Ryan?”

And then I saw him in the alley between the bar and the store.

“You left,” he repeated, stepping forward into the sliver of light from the lamppost. The same storm was still raging in his eyes from earlier.

“You were with someone? Tonight, at the bar. Who is she?”

“Does it matter?” He inched closer, and I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart hammering against my chest.

“Why did you leave?” Ryan was standing only feet away from me now. His eyes were cold as they pierced me, but I held his stare. “Why were you with her?”

His lip curved in a smirk giving his usual brooding face an even darker edge. “Really, Mila, you want to go down that road? Do you want to hear how I took her back to that motel and fucked her?”

“You bastard,” I whispered, my words almost lost in the breeze.

“You. Left. Me.”

This was getting us nowhere, so with a frustrated sigh, I said, “Go home, Ryan.”

He didn't move.

“Fine, I'll go.” I turned to leave, but his hand caught my arm. “Stay.”

“Why?” I didn't turn back around. I couldn't.

“Because I need you.”

I paused and then ever so slowly turned to face Ryan. We were closer now, almost face to face. The storm in his eyes had calmed somewhat, simmering with something else. He reached for me, brushing a stray hair out of my face, setting off a million tingles under my skin.

“What is happening between us, Mila?”

“I- I don't know.”

I didn't.

I had no idea. All I knew was that seeing him with another girl had cut deep, and for a split second, I'd wanted to be the one pressed up next to him.

Ryan's fingers remained on my jaw. He tilted my face up slightly and studied me.

I couldn't move.

I couldn't breathe.

“Rya-”

His finger slid to my lip cutting me dead. I gulped.

“I need you, Mila.”

I nodded. It wasn't a question or a command; it just was.

Ryan interlinked our fingers and started walking back toward the bar. On the other side was a small parking lot, and when we passed The Lasso, my eyes found his car.

I had a million questions zipping through my head, but now was not the time.

By the time we reached Ryan's car, the tension between us was almost unbearable. But nothing compared to the atmosphere as he drove us to the outskirts of town again and parked outside the motel.

“This is where you've been staying?”

Ryan nodded, climbed out of the car, and came around to open the door for me.

As I stepped out, our arms brushed sending shivers rippling through me. We walked to the room in silence. Ryan unlocked the door and stepped inside, the lights from outside casting shadows over his figure. He met my eyes as I stood paralyzed in the doorway. The unspoken question sparkled in his eyes.

If I stepped inside, everything would change.

There would be no going back from this.

He waited, still watching me. I took a deep breath and stepped inside. The door banged shut behind me, and I jumped. Ryan watched me, his eyes shining in the soft glow from outside.

“Did you bring her here?”

I didn't know why I asked, but I needed time to think, to try to form a coherent thought, and those five words just spilled out.

“Is that what you think of me, Mila? You left
me,
remember?”

His voice was quiet. Unsure.

“I- I'm sorry, okay. I was confused and scared and hungover. And what are we doing Ryan? You're Luca-”

He flinched. “Don't. Don’t say his name. Not here, not now.” Ryan closed the space between us, but I stepped back instinctively. My back hit the door, and I flattened my palms against the wood.

“Ryan, wait ...”

He was in front of me now. Looking down at me, he was so close I could feel his breath.

Ryan’s hand buried itself into my hair, anchoring me to him, and he touched his forehead to mine. “Tell me to stop, Mila. Tell me that this is wrong, that you don’t want this. Tell me right now and I'll stop. I'll walk away.”

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. Ryan dipped his mouth lower until our lips were almost touching. He whispered, “I can't fight this, Mila. I know I should, but I can't.”

I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry. Air, I needed air. But then his lips were on my skin and everything melted away.

Trapped between the door and his body, Ryan's mouth traced a path from my neck to my jaw, finding the corner of my lips. “Don't make me stop,” he rasped winding his hands behind my neck and pulling me closer.

I couldn't think.

All of the pain and confusion of the last couple of weeks dissipated as I gave myself over.

“Ryan,” I said breathlessly. His name sounded like a prayer on my lips. Something I hadn't realized how much I needed until this moment.

His hands released me, gliding down my body until they reached their destination. In one swift movement, Ryan hauled me up, forcing my legs around his waist, and I gasped. But he caught it. Covering my lips, his tongue swept into my mouth. He was in control, but I felt his uncertainty. It zapped between us like a force field. He wanted this, but he was scared I would pull away at any second. That I’d realize how screwed up this was and leave.

But I couldn't leave even if I wanted to.

I was lost in him.

The feel of his lips moving against mine, his solid muscles pressed up against me—everything else paled in comparison. The pain that had taken up residence in my soul since losing Lucas was still there. But instead of a strong beat, wrapped in Ryan's arms, it was a weak pulse.

Ryan walked us to the edge of the bed and laid me down gently, staring down with a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“Come here,” I whispered reaching for him.

He lowered himself down over me. “Mila.” His voice filled with uncertainty again.

“Shh,” I said tracing his jaw with my fingers. “I don't want to think about it. Make me forget, Ryan. Please make me forget.”

LIGHT WARMED MY
skin, and I tilted my face into its stream all while my eyes flickered open and shut, open and shut, fighting the tug of more sleep.

“Hmm, what time is it?” Ryan murmured into my hair dragging me closer to him, and I let myself enjoy the feel of his solid frame wrapped around me.

“Eight.”

He grumbled something else into my hair, but I didn't hear him as the memories from the night before flooded my mind.

Ryan slid his hands up my body taking my shirt with them. Warm breath connected with the curve of my chest, and I arched my back, moaning, as he closed his mouth around my lace-covered nipple. But it was nothing compared to the feel of his hands as they slipped inside my jeans and found my center. I tugged my bottom lip between my teeth fighting the urge to moan louder.

Alternating his mouth and fingers, Ryan teased me to the brink of crashing over the edge, but at the last second, he pulled back. A playful smirk had replaced some of the sadness on his face. It looked good on him, and I drank in the sight of him. But all too quick, he was gone, inching down my pants until they dropped to the floor before covering me again. His mouth came down on mine again, harder this time, as his fingers slipped into my panties and glided between my legs. And, as he pressed one inside me, I gasped into his mouth.

I'd been touched before.

But
never
like this.

Never in the midst of so much pain and regret and loss.

It was intense.

Breathtaking.

It was the first time I was going to give myself to someone completely and nothing else mattered.

Ryan didn't speak or flourish me with compliments. Instead, he worked me with his fingers all while kissing me like a man starved of air. Pleasure built low in my stomach, rolling through me like waves, as Ryan's thumb rolled circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves begging to be touched.

“Ryan,” I panted into his mouth, clinging to him.

It hit me like a tsunami. Wracking through my body until every cell trembled.

“Stay with me, Mila. I need you. Only you.” Ryan's voice was distant as I rode the wave. He fumbled between us, kicking off his jeans until there was nothing but skin on skin.

No clothes.

No barriers.

No regrets.

Hooking an arm under my leg, and without warning, Ryan slammed inside me. My head rolled back, and I gripped onto his shoulders, more than willing to let him erase everything.

The contentment I’d felt when I first opened my eyes began to manifest into something ugly until guilt swarmed through me. Ryan must have noticed the change in me. His hand, the one stroking my shoulder, stilled, and he inhaled sharply. “Don’t. Don’t do that.”

His voice sounded off. Cold. And I turned to him and brushed my nose along the curve of his arm. “Don’t do what?”

“You know what.”

“I can’t help it, Ryan. Last night, what we did-”

“Don’t, Mila.”

With a heavy sigh, I closed my eyes and pressed further in Ryan’s side. The heat of his body encased me, and I couldn’t help but remember last night. Our bodies tangled, moving as one. Nothing about it had felt wrong … then, but now, now, the guilt was overpowering and a little destabilizing.

We lay there in silence. Ryan was so still; I thought he might be sleeping, but every now and again, his fingers danced over my skin, and I knew he was considering, like me, how this would change things.

Because it
would
change things.

When my family—especially my brothers—found out about this, they wouldn't understand. I'd already asked Tanner for space to deal in my own way, but Chase and Colton wouldn't go as easy on me. Especially Chase, who seemed to have an issue with Ryan. Although he’d never said anything to me, I think there was some bad blood from when they were in high school together. And I didn't even want to imagine what Carol and Peter would think when they found out. I was the daughter they never had. Would they still love me if they knew I was here, lying wrapped in the arms of their less favored son? The son they'd told they wished had been in the car accident instead of Lucas.

The son I’d held out for, for the last four years.

Another bolt of guilt shot through me, so forceful my body jolted.

“Hey,” Ryan said, his voice full of concern. “What is it?” His fingers slid underneath my jaw tilting my face up to meet his gaze. “Mila?”

“I- maybe this wasn't such a good idea, Ryan.”

Hurt flashed in his eyes, but Ryan recovered quickly, clenching his jaw tightly. “You regret it?”

“Stop. That's not what I said.”

“I can see it written all over you face.” Ryan pulled his arm away from me and rolled to the edge of the bed, sitting up, head hung low, his back to me.

“Ryan ...”

“You think I wanted this? To fall for my dead brother’s girl? Is that what you think?” He laughed bitterly.

Tears stung behind my eyes. I wanted to go to Ryan, to make him understand, but he'd pulled the wall down around him. I felt it slam into place the second the words left his mouth.

“If I'm such an inconvenience, then what the hell are you doing here with me?” I snapped.

He glanced over his shoulder. It wasn't enough for me to see his eyes, but I knew what they reflected. Because I felt it too.

The confusion.

The pain.

… the regret.

I guess it was true; things were so much clearer in the harsh light of day. This—
us
—could never work.

“I should go.” I pushed back the sheet and draped my legs over the edge of the bed. Scooping up my shirt, I pulled it over my head and started the search for my pants. Neither of us spoke, the weight of last night almost too much to bear. I dressed quickly. I just needed my left shoe but couldn't see it anywhere.

“Where are you?” I muttered to myself shooting Ryan a quick glance. He still sat on the edge of the bed, motionless. Ducking down to search under the bed, I misjudged and butted the frame of the bed. “Shit,” I cried sitting up, a hand pressed to the sore spot.

“Mila?” Ryan dropped down in front of me, startling me.

“Look at me. I'm a mess.”

His fingers brushed across my head, and I winced.

“Come on, I'll get you some ice.”

“But my shoe-”

“Is over by the dresser.”

I looked over, and sure enough, there it was. “Why didn't you just say so?”

Ryan shrugged. Helping me to my feet, he guided me to the bed. I sat and waited while he fetched ice and a towel. “Here, this should take away the sting.”

I fought back the tears, but they won, streaming down my face. I don't know if they were for the pain or for Lucas or for us. But they wouldn't stop coming. Eventually, Ryan kneeled down in front of me and wrapped me in his arms, and I let him.

It was becoming a pattern with us.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Me too.”

And I was.

Last night was many things, but I didn't regret it.

I couldn't.

“You need to put a shirt on.” I traced a finger across Ryan's defined chest.

“Why?”

Curling my hand into a fist, I punched him gently. “Don't be a conceited jerk.”

“Broke the ice, though.”

I smiled through the tears. He was right. It had cracked the coolness that had settled around us earlier. Ryan looked right at me, his eyebrows knitting together. “Tell me this feels wrong.”

“Ryan, I-”

“Tell me, Mila. Tell me you don't feel it, and I'll let you walk out of here.”

I felt it.

God, I felt it.

But I also felt the guilt churning in my stomach, the shame burning through me.

“Luca-”

“Isn't here, Mila. He isn't here. He left us.” Warm lips pressed against my neck. “Before the funeral, you asked me not to leave. Now, I'm asking you to stay.” Ryan started a slow path to my ear, and my body started to respond, coming alive in his arms. “Stay, Mila. Stay with me.”

“I-”

Ryan's mouth came down on mine, and I wound my hands around his neck. I was weak—letting my desires overrule my head. Overrule what I knew was the right thing. But I couldn't deny that being with Ryan eased the pain. Filled some of the gaping holes in my heart.

Our lips moved in perfect symmetry, our tongues gliding together. It felt different from the night before. Then, it had been about forgetting. Now, it felt more like acknowledging this thing between us. Ryan nudged me back until I was lying in the middle of the bed, and he hovered above me, resting on his elbows. I’d come to realize that it was in these moments alone that he let me see the guy behind the hard exterior. His roguish smirk gave him a playful quality he rarely revealed in public.

Reaching out, I slid my hand along his jaw. Ryan’s eyes shuttered, and his chest heaved, affected by my touch. “I’ll stay.”

His eyes snapped open and searched my own. “You will?”

I nodded, fighting the smile forming on my lips. Part of me still didn’t want to think about what was happening—what
had
happened, but I was no longer going to deny myself this.

Him.

Ryan understood. He felt my pain, the grief … the emptiness. But he also gave me hope. Hope that things could, one day, be okay again. And, although I wasn’t ready to admit it, being with Ryan meant I still had a piece of Lucas with me.

So when Ryan dipped his head and traced the outline of my mouth with his own, I looped my arms around his neck and hitched my leg around his. He rolled his hips, pressing into me, and I moaned softly, our earlier argument melting away.

Until my cell vibrated.

“You have to be kidding me.” Ryan’s head flopped onto my shoulder, and he let out a frustrated groan. “Go answer it. It’ll be Tanner.”

“How did you-”

“Mila, he’s your brother. He loves you. And, well, if it were my sister holed up in a motel with the likes of me, I wouldn’t have waited ‘til morning to call.”

I shot him a look. I didn’t like hearing him talk about himself in such deprecating terms, but he was right. It could only be Mom or Tanner calling. Ryan rolled to the side of me, letting me up, and I padded across the room to my purse. Sure enough, Tanner’s number flashed across the screen.

“Hey, Tan,” I said trying to sound normal.

“You have five minutes, or I’m coming in.”

“What the hell, Tanner?”

“I’m serious, Mila Jean. I’m outside, and if you’re not out in five minutes, I’m coming in.”

“Tan-” The line went dead. “Unbelievable, he hung up on me. I can’t believe he hung up on me.”

“Problem?” Across the room, Ryan pulled on his jeans with the hint of an amused smile on his lips.

“I’m glad you find this amusing. My brother is outside, Ryan. What the hell is wrong with my family?”

Ryan stalked toward me, the amusement gone replaced with something darker, and with each step he took, my heart beat faster.

“We’re not doing anything wrong, Mila. Just be honest with him.” He brushed my hair over my shoulder, cupped my face, and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. We both froze; the realization of what he’d just done hitting us.

“I-” Ryan stepped back, his eyes glazed with confusion. “Shit,” he mumbled, and a sinking feeling rolled through me.

“I’d better go.”

Alarm washed over Ryan’s face, and I didn’t know if it was shock from his intimate gesture or the fact I was about to leave.

I didn’t hang around to find out.

I held his gaze for a few more seconds before grabbing my purse and slipping out of the motel room.

For the second time.