I shuck my jeans and then remove my briefs as well and then grip my half-hard erection. “Remove the blankets completely, baby.”
She does, leaving her stark naked.
“Beautiful,” I say. “Now, spread your legs and finger yourself. I want to see you try to make yourself come.”
MYLA
“Love you,” I say as I kiss Ryot one last time. His hand on my robe-covered ass squeezes me hard before he drops his forehead to mine and sighs.
“Fuck, I don’t want to leave.”
“I don’t want you to leave either, but you have to.” I run my hand over his thick pec. “But after the game, you’re coming over here?”
“Or, you can just be at my place waiting,” he says as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key.
“You’re giving me a key?”
“Yeah.” He grips my cheek with his warm palm. “I want you there, babe. Come and go whenever you want.”
“Okay, well, then I’ll see you at your place tonight.”
“Naked?”
I chuckle and push at his chest. “No, wrapped up in a Bobbies flag. I have to bring this thing full circle, after all.”
He lets out a hearty laugh. “Sounds sexy, babe. And you’re going into the restaurant today to quit?”
I nod. Once I receive my dad’s inheritance, Ryot and I decided that it would be the perfect time for me to quit waitressing, focus on Renovate Chicago, and work out where I want to go from there. “Yup, can’t wait to tell them thank you for the time, but I’m done.”
“Good. Okay. I’ll see you tonight.” He gives me a chaste kiss and then opens the door and starts jogging down the front steps. “I love you, Myla.”
“I love you,” I say back as he gets into his car and leaves.
When I shut the door, I walk over to the kitchen where Nichole is hovering over a cup of coffee.
“You had quite the night,” she says.
“Did you hear us?”
“Myla, the dogs three blocks away heard you.”
I wince. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t keep you up.”
She shrugs. “No, I put my earplugs in, took some melatonin, and passed out.”
“You know, you didn’t have to come back last night. I feel bad that you did and then we didn’t even talk.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t even worry about it. I think I need to apologize to you.”
“For what?” I ask.
“For the way I acted when your dad died.” She leans against the counter and clutches her cup of coffee with both hands. “You know I’m not interested in a relationship at all. It’s just not something I want or need, but I see how much you need it in your life. I see how you lean on him, how you depend on him, and I think I got a little jealous. And when he wasn’t there for you the way I thought he should have been, I gave you some bad advice.”
“Nichole, emotions were high for everyone. There is no need to apologize, but I do need you to know that no matter what, I will always need you. I’m not replacing you.”
“I know.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “We’re growing up, and I think that’s tough for me because it’s clear we want different things. You’re ready to settle down and be with someone, and I’m not.”
“Yes, things are different, but Ryot is still out of town a lot during the season, which gives us plenty of time to catch up. I know the winter was tough because I hung out a lot with Ryot, but I’ll be better at making sure to make time for you.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m not so pathetic that I need you all the time. I just . . .” She smirks and shakes her head. “God, I’m going to miss my wing-woman. It’s not like I can take you to random men’s houses anymore and have you wait for me.”
I cringe. “Doubtful Ryot would be happy about that.”
“He’d be furious.” She sets down her mug and puts her arms around me. “I’m happy for you.”
“You are?” I ask, returning the hug.
“Yes. He loves you, cares for you, and is willing to cut people for you. That’s all we could ask for, right?”
I chuckle. “Especially the cutting.”
She releases me and says, “What’s the point of dating anyone if they’re not willing to slash some things on your behalf?”
“No point at all.”
Chapter Twenty-One
MYLA
Present day . . .
Nichole: How’s it going?
I stare down at where Ryot’s head is resting on my lap, and I stroke his hair before texting Nichole back.
Myla: Currently poolside, under a rented cabana, and lounging on one of those oversized loungers while Ryot takes a nap on my lap. So . . . pretty good and, before you get all crazy with questions, we’re just taking it one moment at a time.
Nichole: One moment at a time. I think that’s smart, but set that aside and tell me how you really feel.
Of course, Nichole wouldn’t let me get away with an answer like that. It was worth the try, though.
Myla: I’m just enjoying being near him again, the Ryot I fell in love with many years ago. We’ve had some intense conversations. They haven’t fixed anything, but they’ve helped us open up, and I think that’s what we’ve been missing.
Nichole: From what I’ve seen, it’s easy to become complacent and skip over those hard conversations, even in friendships like ours. I’m glad you’re getting time to talk to him.
I drag my hand over his hair and sigh. I feel the need to keep him close, to keep touching him, because, at the end of this, I’m not sure what will happen. I can only hope that I’m not hurt again.
Myla: Tomorrow is the wedding, and then after that, we leave, so it’s only two more days. I’m getting nervous.
Nichole: Do you know what you’re going to do?
Myla: No idea, but I’m sort of leaning toward working things out with him.
Nichole: Good.
Myla: Good? You make it seem like this is what you want.
Nichole: I do want this for you. I’ve never forgotten how fiercely Ryot fought for you. He fought your mom. He fought me. That’s not someone you let go of. And . . . I want someone to be there for you.
I stare down at her text, slightly confused, my anxiety gearing up. When I decided to file for divorce, she said she’d be there for me, that she’d bring me back to Chicago and figure everything out. So why is she glad that we might work things out now?
Myla: You’re not telling me something.
Nichole: You just have fun and figure this out. Okay?
Now I sit up taller, disturbing Ryot from his slumber. I pull up her number and call her, but she doesn’t answer. I get her voicemail, so I try calling again. When I’m sent straight to voicemail, I get a text from her.
Nichole: Calm down. No news. I’m just . . . covering all my bases in case something comes back not in my favor.
Myla: Don’t talk like that.
Nichole: Being realistic. But I must get to this meeting. Love you. Don’t focus on me. Focus on yourself, and when I hear something, I promise I’ll let you know.