Ryot: I’m stopping by to drop off some of your favorite soup. I’ll leave it outside so you don’t have to face me if you’re not ready. Love you, baby.
Ryot: I stopped by your restaurant tonight, after the game, in the hopes to at least catch sight of you, but they told me you don’t work there anymore. Myla, I would love to just talk. Please, just let me in.
Ryot: We made the playoffs. The boys are off celebrating, but I didn’t have it in me. I want to celebrate with you. Text me back. Maybe we can go grab some Drumsticks. Or some Cold Stone. You don’t have to twist my arm to splurge on the good stuff for you.
Ryot: Off to Atlanta. I left a package on your doorstep. It’s just some stuff in case you decide to watch the games. Some of your favorite popcorn, chocolates, and some Bobbies underwear. I’m not expecting you to wear it but, you know, if you did, I wouldn’t be opposed. Love you, Myla.
Ryot: Getting ready for the game, and one of the guys walked in after a long night out, and I swear to Christ he smelled like you. He was wearing some girl’s perfume, and it’s what you wear. I was turned on and confused all at the same time. You’re the only one I’m telling this to.
Ryot: Okay, I told Walker, and now he believes I’m in love with Charles, who was wearing the perfume. This is what happens when you consume my brain.
Ryot: I miss you, Myla. So much so that I looked through pictures of us tonight. Have I told you how much your smile lights up a room? Well, it does. I want to see that smile again. I want to see you happy. Please, Myla . . . please text me back. I love you.
Chapter Nineteen
RYOT
Present day . . .
“You’re jealous,” I mouth to Myla from across the room while the guys and I hover over a plate of crackers and two bottles of white wine that the waitstaff so kindly brought us.
The first dip was interesting. The second, third, and fourth were marvelous.
And as we stood over here, dipping crackers into glasses of wine to our heart’s content, Myla and the girls sat at the table, drinking their red with the good cheese.
Yup, they were able to get more as well.
And sure, would I have preferred to sit at the cheese table? Yes. Clearly, that’s the better table because that cheese melts in your mouth.
But the brothership by the crackers is unbreakable. A once-in-a-lifetime bromance, something I would never give up for cheese.
Actually, that’s a lie. I would give it up real quick.
Myla shakes her head and chuckles at me before plopping her last piece of cheese in her mouth.
Can we just take a second to fucking appreciate her?
When she walked out of the bathroom in that romper, I was taken back to a time when we first started dating, and she wore something similar. We didn’t even go on our date because we didn’t make it out of the bedroom. I desperately wanted a repeat but knew that wasn’t an option. It pained me walking out of our hotel room with only a light touch to her lower back. Trust me, I wanted to do so much more.
And when we sat down at the table, my hand instinctively fell to her thigh. I wasn’t doing it on purpose. It was a natural thing that I’ve done for years, so when she didn’t shake me away, I didn’t pull away. I didn’t want to.
I wanted that connection.
I want . . . fuck, I want more.
Staring at her from across the room, I want so much more.
“Dude, you look like you’re about to eat her alive,” Banner says next to me.
“I love her, man,” I say as I sip my wine, watching as she laughs with the girls.
“I know.” He grips my shoulder just as the waitstaff comes out with plates of dessert.
The men flock back to the table, the cracker bromance quickly dissolved, and as I return, Myla turns into me and rests her hand on my leg as she leans in. “Guess what?” she asks, a lightness in her voice.
Yeah, we’re both feeling the wine. That much is obvious.
“What?” I ask as a chocolate mousse is placed in front of us.
She leans in closer, her breast pressing against my shoulder as she says, “The girls said it looks like you want to eat me.”
When she pulls away, I stare down at her lips and then back up at her eyes. “Because I do,” I answer without even thinking.
She smirks and then whispers in my ear, “Remember the time I surprised you in Atlanta? I was naked in your hotel room, and you spent half an hour torturing me with your tongue.”
“Baby, that memory lives rent-free in my brain forever. As well as the way you tasted.”
She turns to her plate, carves out a piece of the mousse, and brings it to my mouth. I open and she feeds me. My lips pull over the spoon right before she takes it away.
“I always loved your mouth,” she confesses. “I love your smile, your teeth, and your tongue. The tiny scars above your lip where you were clipped with a cleat by that guy sliding into third.” She smooths her finger over my lips, and I open and nibble her finger, causing her to laugh.
Then it’s my turn to feed her, so I scoop up some of the chocolate and place the spoon in front of her mouth. Keeping her eyes on mine, she opens and allows the spoon to slide over her tongue in the most seductive way I’ve ever seen. When she releases the spoon, she licks her lips and whispers, “So good,” in a tone I’ve only heard in the bedroom.
“You two are making me hot,” Lottie says from across the table. She then turns to Huxley and says, “Can we leave?”
He doesn’t answer. All he does is stand and offer a wave to the table before gripping Lottie’s hand tightly and walking off with her.
“We’re going to take off too,” JP says, holding Kelsey’s hand. “Thanks, everyone, for coming.”
And they’re gone.
One by one, people get up and leave until Myla and I are the only ones left.
“They didn’t even finish their dessert,” she says as she feeds me another spoonful.
“Fools,” I answer as Myla pours us another glass of wine, this one red. She hands me the glass and then holds hers up.
“To new beginnings,” she says and then clinks my glass. Either I don’t care or I’m drunk, but her toast does nothing for me, so I raise my glass.
“That toast was shit.”
“Think you can do better?” she asks.
I nod. “Yup, cheers to the night when you played with my balls until I came.”
She laughs. “Ooo, that was a good night.” We both take a sip. “Or what about the time you let me spank you?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t like that.”
She laughs. “You’re such a goddamn liar.”
I place my finger against my mouth and shush her. “Don’t tell anyone. Remember, that’s a secret.”
“Oh, right,” she whispers. “Your dick was so hard that night.”
“Because you were also wearing one of those demi bras I love so much.”
“It was red and see-through, I remember. A Valentine’s Day present.”
“Best Valentine’s Day of my life.” I finish off my wine and then lean back in my chair. “Fuck, I think I’m drunk.”
“Me too.” She sways. “Want to walk it off with me?”