More than Distance

32

We returned to the hotel room. In the bathroom, I changed into an old t-shirt and sleep shorts and got ready for bed. I took longer than I needed to, anxious about being alone in the room with him again. What would happen when I walked out? I pictured different scenarios, ranging from us getting into another heated argument and climbing into our separate beds angry, to him grabbing me by the waist and kissing me senseless before we tumbled into bed and tore each other’s clothes off. I was secretly hoping for the latter.

When I finally did emerge, Ryan was already lying on the couch with the spare blanket pulled up to his chest. Okay, so neither one of my scenarios was going to happen.

“That couch is way too short for you,” I said.

He scowled and adjusted his pillow. “It’s fine.”

“Maybe it’s a pull-out couch?”

“No, I already checked.” He shifted again. Most of his legs hung off the end of the sofa. It was definitely not built for tall people to sleep on.

I sighed. “You can’t sleep like that.”

“I’ll manage.”

“Don’t be silly. We can share the bed.”

His jaw clenched. “That’s not a good idea.”

“The bed is huge. There’s plenty of room for both of us. If you sleep on this couch you’ll be sore tomorrow, and I need you at your best. We have a lot of driving to do.”

I could tell he was about to stubbornly refuse, so I grabbed his arm and yanked him up. He rose to his feet and the blanket dropped away, revealing that he wore only black boxer briefs. I could see the outline of him through them. My mouth went dry. I forced my eyes to travel up, but then I met his naked chest, all muscles and ridges and smooth skin. Scenario number two played through my head on a loop with porn music in the background.

I couldn’t seem to let go of his arm and we stood so close I felt the heat coming off his bare skin. He looked down at me, traveling slowly from my eyes to my lips, and I got the feeling he wanted to kiss me again.

“Only if you’re sure.” His voice sounded rough, like he was in pain.

“We’ll pretend you’re sleeping over, like in the old days.”

“Except there’s no Daniel this time.”

“No Daniel,” I whispered.

The words were barely out before his mouth came down on mine. A soft moan escaped me as our bodies fitted together and my heart danced to the tune of yes, yes, yes. Ryan was kissing me again and we weren’t teenagers and there were no cameras and I didn’t know what it meant and I didn’t care. Maybe the alcohol made me bolder, or maybe it was Becca’s words about how I should have some fun, but I wanted to touch him all over, every dirty inch of him. My hands traveled down his firm chest. My fingers dipped into the elastic at his waist.

He jerked away like he’d been hit by the lightning outside. “Fuck.”

Yes, please, I thought. I reached for him, but he backed away.

“No,” he said. “This isn’t happening.”

My stomach began to freefall. He was turning me down. Again. “But—”

“No.” He grabbed his jeans and tugged them on his long legs. “This is why we need separate rooms.”

I should have known scenario number one would win out in the end. “You were the one who kissed me.”

“A mistake. Won’t happen again.”

“Why not?”

He pulled his shirt on. “We’ve both been drinking. We’re not thinking clearly.”

I sat on the edge of the bed, my throat tight. “Ah, that excuse again.”

He shot me a dark look and moved toward the door.

I jumped to my feet. “Where are you going?”

“I’ll be back soon. Get some sleep.”

“Wait! Tell me why at least.”

He turned to face me, his expression like granite. “Carla, you need to get over this silly crush you have on me, because this is never going to happen. Never. Got it?”

Humiliation made tears touch my eyes and I wiped them with the back of my hand. I tried to keep my voice from trembling. “When did you become such an asshole?”

He walked out the door without another word.

Twelve

Ryan

I went down to the bar and got a drink, then stood at the window, the one she’d been at earlier. I moved to the glass and pressed my forehead against it, felt it vibrating from the intensity of the storm outside. Or the storm inside me. Her words kept replaying in my head. When did you become such an asshole?

That was easy. The day I left her behind on the beach.

I downed the rest of my whiskey and slammed the glass on the counter. The bartender, a cute, pale blond girl, gave me s*x eyes. Any other time, I’d take her home with me. I’d use her to try to erase the dark goddess who always drew me back with her siren call.

There was no escaping Carla this time. My first night alone with her and I’d already f****d it up. There went my promise to Daniel. How the hell was I supposed to get through the rest of this show? Or face him afterward?

I returned to the room an hour later, after doing three laps of the hotel grounds. The lights were off and she was in bed, but I knew from the way she was breathing that she was awake.