She's the One: COunting on Love, Book 1 (13 page)

“When she’s ready she’ll come to you,” Ryan said.

“Or I can
make
her talk to me.”

Ryan reached over and took the keys out of the ignition, then got out of the car. He went around to the driver’s side, opened the door and started to get in, forcing her to scoot over.

“Hey.”

“You’re too wound up to drive. You rant, I’ll drive.”

She took a deep breath and started in about how she was worried about Jill and a couple of other students and why.

By the time they pulled up in front of his building, she’d been talking nonstop for twenty minutes.

She looked up at the building. “Oh. We’re here.”

He grinned and got out. She slid over to the driver’s seat, but he still held the keys.

“Let’s go,” he said, starting for the front door.

“Go? Where?”

“My place.”

She got out but hesitated by the car. “What for?”

He looked over his shoulder. “You have a lot of emotion going on there, but it’s all bottled up.”

She blushed. “Yeah, usually. Sorry I went off like that.”

He chuckled. “I’m flattered that you trust me enough to do it in front of me.”

She seemed surprised by his words. “You think it’s a matter of trust?”

He liked that idea anyway. It was either that or she didn’t care what he thought of her so she wasn’t as careful with how she acted. “Yes. But you shouldn’t bottle it up at all.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Is that right?”

“For one thing, that’s not healthy.”

“But yelling at people and calling them bitches is?”

“Yeah, okay, a professor calling a student a bitch is probably a bad idea,” he said with a little chuckle. “But being passionate about things
is
healthy. And the way you stand up for the people you care about is one of the things I like best about you.”

“There’s a list of things that you like about me?” she asked, propping a hand on her hip.

He gave her a grin. “And I haven’t even seen you naked. Yet. I’m sure that will add several delicious things.”

Her cheeks got pink again, but he didn’t think it was from embarrassment this time. She licked her lips. “What’s the second thing?”

Distracted by her tongue and the wetness on her bottom lip, he didn’t follow. “The second thing?”

“You said ‘for one thing’, it’s not healthy to bottle things up.”

“Oh.” He gave her a wink. “It’s also really hot when you get fired up.”

“It is?”

“Definitely.”

“So, I should keep yelling and threatening people and making a spectacle?”

“You really don’t like that, do you?” he asked, sensing some frustration in her even though he knew she was saying it sarcastically. “You want to let it all out, but you fight it at the same time. What’s up with that?”

“I don’t like losing control. I don’t like…the spectacle part of it,” she said, using that word again.

“You were right to do what you did today. Jill needed you. Is it bad to make a spectacle if it’s for a good cause?”

She sighed. “Of course not. I mean, standing up for the right things and people is a good thing. But I don’t have to lose my cool.”

Ryan really wanted to argue that she had hardly lost her cool. Sure, she’d been obviously pissed, but she hadn’t slapped anyone or anything.

Suddenly he had an idea. There was no reason that convincing her she was completely fine couldn’t take some time. Some time that she would be spending with him.

He was more convinced than ever that Amanda needed to experience his flavored-oil massages and morning-after smoothies. And a few other things.

“I think you need to learn to meditate. Get really in touch with your passion and then learn what to do with it.”

“That sounds…”

“Like fun?”

She gave him a half smile. “A little weird.”

“Yep. That’s what a lot of people think. And then they try it.”

“What do you know about meditating and getting in touch with passion?”

He felt heat flare in his gut. He wanted this woman. Badly. And he wanted her to be happy. Which was new for him. Not that he didn’t care about the women he was involved with. But he wasn’t even really involved with this one. Yet.

Yet? He paused and thought about that. Yet? That would indicate… He shut that down. One thing at a time. Amanda was his friend’s sister. That was enough motivation to help her be happy. And she stood up for the people who depended on her. That was all more than enough to give her a little special treatment.

“I’ll tell you all about how I know what I know,” he told her. “While I show you what I know.”

That sounded sexual—and it would be sexual—but it would also involve him telling her about his mother. Which sounded weird even in his head. He had to ease into that conversation.

“That sounds kind of sexual,” she said.

He grinned. “Yep, and I’ve got exactly what you need. Inside.”

There was a pause. Then she asked, “Does it involve me being naked?”

“Yep.”

“I’m in.” She slammed the car door and started after him.

Ryan couldn’t help but appreciate her willingness where being naked with him was concerned.

He hoped she still felt that way after she tried his mother’s tea and meditation techniques.

Ryan’s condo looked nothing like her brother’s. Or any other bachelor’s that she knew. For Conner and his friends, furnishings were about comfort and getting as many bodies around the big-screen TV on game day as possible, great surround sound, and plenty of surfaces to hold the remotes, cans and plates. Conner’s place was basically a big, slightly more expensively decorated dorm room.

Ryan’s, on the other hand, was cozy, clean and…simple. His living room was divided from the kitchen by a long countertop. In the living area, he had a couch, an armchair and a coffee table. He also had several potted plants throughout the room. There was a desk near the door, which currently held his laptop, a pile of mail and a pen holder stuffed full of pens and pencils. There was a bookcase, full to the brim, a basic stereo system and a twenty-inch TV. It definitely wasn’t the huge, cost-more-than-his-rent TV she’d expected. Which was too bad. Amanda appreciated a good home theater system.

Amanda was a closet television junkie. She loved everything from sports to sitcoms to cooking shows. She didn’t like to admit it and knew that there were plenty of other ways for her to spend her time. But her TV addiction allowed her to be home in case anyone—sisters or students mostly—needed to find her, but be entertained at the same time. Besides, she learned things from the shows she watched. Some of them, anyway. Without her favorite shows, she would never have tried making baklava and she wouldn’t have known anything about ice-road trucking.

She also found that staying up on pop culture helped her relate to her students. She wasn’t much older than most of them and was actually younger than a few of the nontraditional students who had chosen another career first or had put off grad school for one reason or another. She knew that the school had taken a chance on letting her assume the position of director of clinical education at her age and with her small amount of clinical experience, but she was passionate about great clinical experiences and education, and as an alumnus of the program, the university president had agreed to give her a try. She was in her second year and was, so far, impressing everyone from the clinical instructors in the clinics, to the students, to the university administration.

But she knew everyone was always watching.

Which wasn’t a problem. Not only did she take her job seriously, but she didn’t have any reason to worry about people watching. The administration could watch, as could all of her students and her sisters. She was a good role model, responsible and dependable. She led a conservative—if somewhat boring—lifestyle.

Until the last couple of days.

She turned as Ryan came back into the room with two cups.

Until Ryan.

Sure, it was a one-time chance to blow off some steam, to live life on the Emma-side briefly. But she was already spending more time with Ryan than she’d intended. She really shouldn’t have asked him out, but she’d been honest when she said that she wanted him to see a good side of her. Ryan knew things about her, but he didn’t really know her.

But she definitely shouldn’t have kissed him.

What the hell had she been thinking?

Okay, it hadn’t been intentional, but that was part of the problem—Ryan Kaye made her forget where she was, even
who
she was. Amanda had gotten lucky that none of the students had caught them with Ryan’s hand in her pants.

There were other reasons she shouldn’t have kissed Ryan too. For one, she shouldn’t be pursuing this whole thing with him. Yes, she’d wanted to apologize, show him that she did respect him and that she was a good person, maybe establish more of a friendship. But she didn’t want a relationship with him.

For another, what was she actually going to do with him?

Of course, she had some ideas if they were going to spend a couple of hours together.

But what did they have in common? Ryan was the party guy. She was the couch potato. He was the love ’em and leave ’em guy. She was the one who stuck by everyone—even harder and longer than they wanted her to.

So a couple of hours was it. That’s what she and Ryan would and
should
have together. All they should have.

Meditation wasn’t the first thing on her list of things to do with two hours alone with Ryan Kaye though.

He handed her one of the cups. “First step, my mom’s calming tea.”

She sniffed the dark brown, nearly black liquid. It smelled slightly spicy, though she couldn’t place which spices for sure, and sweet. She sipped. It reminded her a little of chai tea.

Then the aftertaste hit.

“What is this?” she asked, trying not to grimace too hard and insult his mother.

He had crossed to the stereo and pushed a few buttons before soft instrumental music filled the room. “Her own concoction. She sends some with me every time I visit. I don’t ask. And I don’t tell her that I toss about half of what she gives me. I drink it, but not daily.”

“Are you supposed to drink it daily?” She sipped again, tentatively. The tea definitely gave a false sense of security. Everything was fine until you swallowed. Then the taste hit.

He grinned. “I know, it’s tough at the end. Not everything she makes is like that. The cleansing tea she makes is bad from start to finish. The tea for better sleep is good all the way down.”

It was strange. Even knowing how bad it would taste afterward, she still liked the initial taste enough to keep drinking. With a shudder she swallowed again. “She specializes in teas?”

“She specializes in holistic healing,” Ryan said. “Among other things.”

He motioned for her to sit on the couch. He joined her, draping his arm along the back.

“Holistic healing? Like herbs and natural medicine type things?”

He nodded. “Some of that. The holistic approach means looking at the physical, mental, spiritual and emotional parts of a person and making sure they all balances. She’s into meditation, aromatherapy, whole foods, everything.”

“And you practice all of this?” Amanda asked. That was definitely interesting and not what she’d been expecting.

He obviously drank and partied, but she had to admit, Ryan exuded calm. He was laid-back, easygoing, the one who could keep his head in any stressful situation. Conner wasn’t the only one who said so and she’d seen it, though maybe on a simpler scale, on the football field. Ryan always seemed to be okay with whatever happened. He didn’t get intense or mad or worried.

She actually did envy that. Maybe he could pass some of that on to her after all.

“I practice some of it,” he said. “I try to eat well, I exercise, and I do meditate.”

“Has your mom always been into all of this?”

“Here.”

Ryan took her cup, which she was surprised to find was empty already, and set it on the coffee table. Then he pulled a spongy purple mat from under the couch and unrolled it on the floor.

“Lie on your back, with your knees bent.”

She did. She was feeling mellow and interested and like spending more time with Ryan was a hell of an idea.

“We can keep talking, but I’m going to give you a massage.”

Ooh, she could hardly complain or protest about that.

He took one of her hands. “I want you to close your eyes and focus on your breathing. In deep through your nose and out through your mouth.”

Amanda let her eyes slide shut, and she took her next breath in as he’d instructed.

“Think about your lungs.” A heavy, warm hand settled on her chest above her breasts. “Think about pulling air in and filling your lungs, then breathe out, letting all of it escape. Think about your diaphragm.” He moved his hand below her breasts, resting comfortably but definitely making her aware of her body under his touch. “The diaphragm has to pull down to fill the lungs. Then it presses up to expel the air. Think about how it all moves together and breathe deep and slow and long.”