Before Ryan Was Mine (The Remembrance Trilogy - Prequel) (9 page)

Jules? You here?

I furiously typed my answer one-handed as I pulled my luggage behind me and made my way past the security checkpoint where out-going passengers were being screened. The lines were insane and I was thankful I didn’t have to fight that mess.

Yeah. Walking into the main terminal.

The airport was huge, and the walk seemed endless, but when I saw the glass windows at the front of the terminal come into view, my eyes began the search for Ryan. He was leaning up against one of the large pillars, nonchalantly scanning the crowd, his hands shoved unceremoniously into the front pockets of his jeans, a black leather jacket covering his broad shoulders. My heart did the little flip it always did when I saw him, and as usual, I pushed it away. He was so gorgeous. I did have breasts and a vagina, so I wasn’t sure why I expected to be immune to the incredible pull he held over women. Even Brian, an openly gay student who was a member of my philosophy discussion group, would gape and drool. Every time Ryan would come pick me up after one of our study sessions at the campus library, the guy would make it ridiculously obvious he was attracted. Ryan’s discomfort on such occasions was palpable and I thought, hilarious.

“Brian is no different than the hordes of women fawning all over you constantly. That doesn’t seem to bother you, Matthews!” I’d mumbled under my breath. “And, he’s prettier than some of them.”

He’d had the grace to blush and shot me a look that could kill, his eyes warning me to stop my goading. “Shut up or I’ll punish you,” he warned with a quirk of his lips. “His dick would be the difference.” Later, he’d held me down in my dorm room and tickled me furiously until I was screaming with laughter and begging him to stop the torture. He didn’t let me go until I promised I’d never tease him about Brian again.

Ryan’s face lit up with a brilliant smile when he caught sight of me. He quickly came forward and wrapped me in a tight bear hug. The scent of his cologne engulfed me as his arms tightened around my shoulders. I inhaled as deeply as I could, closing my eyes as my cheek pressed into the soft material of his sweatshirt over the solid muscles of his chest and my arms wound around his waist. I was keen on memorizing how he smelled and how it felt to be held in his strong arms. My coat dropped to the floor and the handle of my carry-on clanked against the tile as it dropped. Ryan had hugged me before. He’d given me numerous piggyback rides and slung his arm around my shoulders on countless occasions, but this hug had me plastered against every inch of his body, my softness smashed to the hard contours of his male form, my breasts crushed against his chest. It felt amazing, and I was in heaven. I felt flustered and unsettled as I moved back to glance up into his face. His blue eyes sparkled with excitement.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said. His voice oozed over me as his hands grabbed my shoulders. “My mom is circling the terminals and should be around to pick us up in a couple of minutes.”

“I didn’t have time to get ready. I look a mess. Thanks for that.”

Ryan chuckled and bent to pick up my bag and coat. He pushed the handle down and easily slung the bag over his shoulder before handing the coat back with a sardonic grimace. “You’ll look like The Giant Purple People Eater,” he teased, “or, a bloated grape.”

“Thanks,” I retorted shortly. “Again, it’s your fault, dickhead. I didn’t even look at what I grabbed out of the closet!”

“Did you wear that when you were five?” His shoulder nudged into mine and I couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t think I can take you downtown in that. I may have to buy you a new one.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. It’s hideous!”

“Some of us aren’t as vain as others,” I shot back as we started to walk toward the large revolving doors that would take us out to the curb, silently dreading wearing the horrible thing. “You said it was going to be a blizzard here. I didn’t think we’d do much beyond making a snowman in your backyard.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t lose you in that, even in a whiteout. Here comes my mom.”

A sleek silver Lexus stopped and Ryan went around the back to deposit my bag in the trunk as a slender woman in a long black cashmere coat and black leather gloves emerged from behind the wheel. I didn’t find similarities in their features, but her blue eyes and sandy hair were identical to her son’s. She was impeccably groomed, which only made my unkempt appearance more annoying.

“Julia, it’s so nice to meet you! I’m Ryan’s mother, Elyse.” She embraced me warmly as the cold Chicago wind whipped around us and blew my long hair across my face. It felt like I was being stabbed with icicles. I began to shiver and my teeth started chattering. I tried to smile through it all, hesitating to put on the ugly coat.

“Thank you, Mrs. Matthews. Sorry for the short notice.”

She whisked my objection away with a casual wave of her hand. “It’s no trouble at all, and you must call me Elyse. Ryan, you drive, darling. I want to get acquainted with your friend.” She tossed Ryan the keys before he handed me my coat then held open the back passenger-side door and ushered me inside.

The drive and shopping trip proved to be a lot of fun, and I found an easy camaraderie with Ryan’s mom. She was warm, easygoing, and very welcoming. She chatted on about Ryan and Aaron, the tree house they built in the backyard with their dad when they were ten, and how Ryan broke his arm when he fell out of it the following spring. Overall, there weren’t many embarrassing things I’d be able to tease Ryan with when the need arose to blackmail him, but things changed that night at dinner.

“Ryan, have you bought any whores yet?” his father asked with a laugh.

I gasped and some of the roast beef I’d been eating got sucked into my lungs. I began coughing uncontrollably, covering my mouth with the fine linen napkin that had been resting in my lap. My eyes began to tear as my chest convulsed painfully.

“Jesus, Dad!” Ryan admonished, pushing back his chair and pounding on my back. “Sorry, Jules, it’s a joke.”

Elyse rose from her chair and rounded the table toward the two of us, the tears in my eyes increasing as I struggled to regain my breath between coughing spurts. She picked up the glass of ice water next to my plate and offered it to me. I coughed again, wiped my tears and reached for it. I was acutely conscious of Ryan’s hand rubbing back and forth over my back between my shoulder blades.

“I’m so sorry, Julia. I often tease Ryan about his whores.” The handsome face, so similar to his son’s, flashed a full grin as I finally took my seat again. I raised my eyebrow at Ryan who ran his hand through his hair. His agitation was clear.

“Gabe, explain to the poor girl,” Elyse insisted.

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Or not,” he insisted forcefully.

“No, I’d like to hear this,” I said with a laugh, then flushed when Ryan shot me a warning look. I guess he didn’t think it was funny, but I sure as hell did.

His father burst out laughing. “I like this girl, son. She’s smart.”

“Smart
ass
, you mean.”

“Ryan and Aaron went to summer camp for two weeks every summer from the age of seven. It had horseback riding, canoeing and a lot of other fun stuff. Ryan particularly liked the horses and he’d write home telling us he’d like to buy a horse, only he spelled it H O R E S, so it’s been an ongoing joke. Ryan and his
whores
.”

“Oh, my God!” I laughed out loud. “Awww!” I reached out and pushed against his arm roughly. “I guess not much has changed, huh?” I asked my friend.

“Nice, Julia.” Ryan looked annoyed.

“Well?” I teased.

“Jealous?”

“In your dreams.”

Four eyes bore into me as they waited for an explanation. “Um, well, it’s just that Ryan dates a bunch, um… uh, a lot of girls like him.”

Elyse rescued me from embarrassing myself further. “He’s always had a bevy of girlfriends, but we’ve yet to meet anyone he’s serious about. Only one he dated more than a month. Ryan, do you still keep in touch with Jennifer?”

“Mom!”

“What?” she asked, setting down her wine glass. “Surely it’s nothing your best friend wouldn’t already know.”

“Can we just
not
… talk about that stuff? Please?” Ryan begged. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his face taking on a reddish-pink hue.

The truth was, I was feeling the pain as well. We never seemed to get around to talking about the past much, not when it came to relationships. We always focused on the present, but this particular conversation put me in a weird place. Of course, my subconscious knew he’d had at least one major girlfriend in his past. He was funny, smart and gorgeous. I wasn’t stupid, but somehow I’d managed to keep the thought buried in the back of my mind. I glanced in Ryan’s direction out of the corner of my eye. He was staring down at his plate.

After dinner, Ryan and I helped with the dishes without a lot of conversation and I started to wonder if maybe coming to Chicago was a bad idea. He stacked the last of the plates into the dishwasher after I’d rinsed them, then nodded in the direction of the stairs and I followed him to his room.

“Don’t make fun of me,” he said with a slight smile and went into his room ahead of me. He turned on a bedside lamp and the television on the wall opposite the double bed.

“What are
best friends
for?” I asked. I always thought of Ryan as my best friend, but it’s never something we’d said to each other, nor had I ever heard him refer to me as such, but apparently he’d said it to his mother and I wanted him to know I caught it.

He flopped down on his bed as I glanced around his room. I could see his eyes follow me as I checked out the trophies and the photographs. I saw one of Ryan in a black tux with a blonde girl in a bright pink, sequined dress and guessed that must be the infamous Jennifer. He looked so handsome, and the girl gazed up into his face adoringly as Ryan looked at the camera. Thank God, he wasn’t wearing some ridiculous bright pink tie and cummerbund but had chosen classic all the way. He looked perfect and I could barely rip my eyes away from the photo.

I sensed his hesitation; my face burned and my lungs felt on fire. I inhaled, trying to ease the heat and calm the weird emotions racing through me. He studied me intently.

“What?” I asked, the bed giving softly beneath my weight as I finally sat down next to him.

“Is that okay?” His jaw stiffened slightly and my eyes skittered over the shadow of whiskers shading it. My heart thumped unexpectedly in my chest. I knew what he wanted to know.

“Yeah. You are my best friend. Duh.”

“Yeah. Good.”

I wanted to put him at ease. “I told your mom I’d help her cook Christmas dinner. Do you have any traditions?”

“Sure. We have to suffer my dad’s Aunt Mabel’s fruitcake. It’s so disgusting! Dad takes it and practically drowns it in rum to try to make it palatable and it still sucks ass. Don’t eat it, whatever you do.”

I laughed and grabbed the remote out of his hand. He let me take it without protest. “Doesn’t your mother make your favorite dessert?”

“No. She said it’s not holiday-ish.”

“Hmmm. I always make my dad cake and prime rib for Christmas.”

He watched me with sparkling eyes. “I like strawberry cheesecake, but that sounds delicious, too. What is it?”

I flipped from channel to channel and shrugged.

“Chocolate cake soaked with cherry liqueur, filled with cherries, whipped cream and chocolate shavings. It’s a lot of work, but it’s super yummy.”

“Sounds good.”

“Yeah, I know. It is.” Tongue in cheek I waited for him to ask. He would ask. I would make him ask. The seconds ticked by, both of us staring at the T.V. without speaking. Finally, he caved.

“Will you make them and save me from the gross fruitcake?”

“I don’t know. Your mom’s right. Cheesecake isn’t Christmas-y. Strawberries are out of season.” I said, training my eyes on the T.V. and waiting, baiting Ryan more as I rattled off reasons not to make his beloved cheesecake.

Ryan huffed and laid down on his bed, finally leaning over and stealing the remote out of my hand. “Fine!” he muttered.

“Moody much?” My lips crept up at the corners.

“You tease me with that shit and then renege. Just remember, payback’s a bitch.”

I bit my lip to stop a laugh. “Fuck you. You called me a bloated grape! So what was it you were saying about payback?”

“Your ticket was $636 dollars and change. I take cash or check.” His elbow nudged my arm as he shifted again then leaned into me as the channel settled onto HBO. The Bill Murray version of “A Christmas Carol” was just starting.

“Okay, I’ll make it if you’ll stop pouting already. But, you have to go to the store and buy the stuff.”

“What?”
he asked incredulously, a beautiful smile lighting up his face. “The fucking thing already cost me $636!”

A laugh erupted from my chest, and Ryan joined me. “It’ll be worth every cent.”

“It already is.”

Christmas break sped by after Julia came to Chicago. I actually regretted that it was over. We stayed up most of the night playing video games and watching old movies. I’d considered that spending so much time together, day-in and day-out, we might get sick of each other. Didn’t happen.