G rabbing my keys, I head towards the front door. “Ry, I’m heading to
Michael’s.”
Sitting on the couch with a book in his hands and his feet propped on the coffee table, Ryan stiffens before slowly lowering his book to his lap.
“Say that again for me.” “I’m heading to Michael’s.”
“And who the fuck is Michael?”
Huh?
As realization hits me, I try my hardest not to laugh. Jealous Ryan is hot, so I’ll let this play out before admitting that Michael’s is the craft store where I buy my embroidery thread to cross-stitch.
“Don’t worry about it.”
His brows rocket up towards his hairline. “Oh, don’t worry about it?
Okay then.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do unless we’re both naked.”
He lifts his book again, refocusing his attention on the pages. “Have fun, but just know that you’re responsible for whatever happens to Michael tonight. In fact…” He eases into the couch as if he’s casually unaffected. “It’ll give me something to do later.”
It’s then that I double over in laughter. “You’re insane.”
Ryan peeks an eye over his book. “Michael’s is a craft store, you psychopath.”
He pops his shoulder, not denying the statement, and is entirely unapologetic that if there were a real man named Michael I was going to see tonight, he’d have no problem standing behind his promise.
Unable to contain my laughter, I take a seat across his lap. “Would you like to come with me so you can confront Michael while I pick up a new embroidery hoop and needles?”
He drops his book to the couch, slipping his arms around my waist. “I was about to body slam Michael through the floor.”
My head falls to his shoulder, and finally, Ryan is able to laugh at himself. “Do you want me to go with you?”
I want him to go everywhere with me, but it’s hard enough for him to leave the apartment as is, and now, coming to the end of his regular season, it’s essentially impossible.
Not to mention, the attention is overwhelming for him, and the pressure from the media, fans, and upper management since his return has been taking its toll. He’s been trying to play it cool, but I’ve noticed it eating away at him.
“That’s okay. I’ll go tomorrow after you head on your road trip instead.”
Ryan’s stunning smile sparkles. “Read with me?”
“God.” My head falls back. “Talk dirty to me, why don’t you.” Slinging a leg over his lap, I straddle him.
One hand splayed over the expanse of my back, Ryan leans forward to grab my most current book from the coffee table.
“What’s this one about?” he asks, handing it off.
“A mafia boss cuts a deal with another mafia boss by using his daughter for payment. Marriage of convenience. Normal stuff.”
Opening my book, I restart right where I left off.
“Why do you like reading fiction so much?” he asks without a hint of judgment.
“How else would you get to live a thousand lives in the span of only one? The beauty of fiction is that it makes you feel things on a visceral level. You can cry with those characters, laugh with them. It teaches you to look at another’s perspective, to have empathy. In nonfiction, you simply learn about something instead of feeling it.”
“You already feel more than most people I know.” Ryan closes his book, cocks his head, and watches me with a softness I didn’t know existed when I first moved in. “You haven’t been reading much lately.”
I pop my shoulders. “Well, that’s because I don’t feel the need to live in someone else’s reality. I enjoy my own far too much these days.”
That stunning smile is back, puckered dimples and all as Ryan runs his palms up the length of my thighs.
“Can I read some of your book?” “Really?”
He nods excitedly.
“Okay, let me find something you might like—”
He stops me from flipping through the pages. “Let me read the page you’re at.”
Well…this is going to be interesting.
I hand it over, watching him with caution as Ryan leans into the couch behind him and begins to read my book. Blue-green eyes widen as soon as he starts because I left off at a detailed scene of the female main character getting eaten out on the mafia boss’s desk right after he killed a man in cold blood.
“Shit,” Ryan exhales, burying himself further into the couch as if he plans to stay there long enough to finish the entire book. “This is hot.”
“That’s what I’m saying!”
One hand holding my book, he uses the other to grab my waist, pulling me against him. My legs are opened around his and all it does is cause me to grind against him which I’m quickly realizing is what he wanted.
“This is practically a how-to manual on how to please a woman. How are more men not reading these?”
Falling forward, I use one arm against the back of the couch to keep myself hovering over him. Ryan’s eyes stay glued to the pages until I roll my hips against his and earn his attention. Those studious ocean eyes turn dark when he looks up at me.
“This might be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” I admit.
“Oh, yeah?” Ryan drops my book, his hands sliding into my hair to pull me down before he kisses me so deeply I can feel its intensity in every nerve of my body.
He moans into my mouth and the desperate sound has me moving against him. Ryan being vocal and unrestrained with the noises he makes, is part of what makes him so sexy to me. He’s confident and unafraid to let me know the effect I have on him.
My hand slips under his shirt, but as soon as my palm touches the warmth of his skin, a knock sounds at our front door.
“No,” I disagree against his lips. “Not happening. You’re leaving for four days. Do not answer that door.”
He laughs into me.
The knock sounds again.
Rolling my eyes, I climb off his lap and fall onto the couch beside him, letting him stand to answer the door.
“That’s weird that David didn’t call up,” Ryan says as he looks through the peephole. “Oh, it’s Kai.”
And it’s no wonder Dave didn’t call. Kai lives in this building too. “Hey, man.”
“Hey.” Kai waves to me. “Hey, Indy.”
“Well, if it isn’t baseball’s very own Clark Kent. To what do we owe the honor?”
Standing in the doorway, a sly smile slides across his lips at the nickname. Kai Rhodes is a looker. Wildly tall, dark wavy hair, and black- rimmed glasses. Not to mention, the charming grin that would melt most women on the spot. Those things, and the fact he’s one of the top names in baseball, have always had me confused on how the hell he’s single.
And I haven’t even mentioned the adorable baby he’s got slung over his hip who is hands down my favorite visitor.
“I have a huge favor to ask of you two. We have a preseason dinner with some of the season ticket holders tonight and I fired my nanny.”
“Again?”
“Yes, again.” Kai avoids eye contact because this is the sixth nanny he’s fired and that’s just since I’ve known him.
Ryan, Kai’s coaches and agent, including the rest of his team, have been on him to find a nanny he trusts enough with his son not to fire them after only a week. And now, with baseball season starting, it’s even more imperative he finds the right fit. He needs someone willing to travel with the team for the MLB’s insane schedule since Kai is a single dad, and to be honest, I’ve lost a bit of hope he’s going to find the right person for the job.
“I’ll be back in less than two hours. I’ll make it quick. Max will be asleep most of the time,” Kai continues.
Ryan looks back to me, awaiting my input. Even though our night was about to look a whole lot different, I jump at any chance to hold Max.
“Yes!” I say for us from the couch. “We’d love to watch him. Take all the time you need, Kai.”
“You guys are the best.” He slings the diaper bag off his shoulder, handing it to Ryan. “Everything he needs is in there. He’s ready for a bottle in an hour, and after he eats, he will probably be asleep until I get home. Please call me for any reason. If he’s not eating or sleeping, I’ll come right
home. There’s a list of emergency contacts tucked in the diaper bag, but please call me if—”
“Kai.” I stand from the couch. “He’ll be fine. Go to work and don’t worry about us.”
I’d like to add that I was born to do this but saying anything to that extent would most likely freak Ryan out.
“I need my fix.” Holding out my arms, Kai passes his sleepy son to me. “Call me,” Kai begs.
Ryan reassures. “We will. See you later.”
Closing the door, Ryan sets the diaper bag on the kitchen island as I bounce on the balls of my feet, hoping to keep Max from getting fussy now that his dad is gone.
“Well, this isn’t exactly how I pictured our night going.”
I give Ryan an understanding smile because he’s about to be gone for four days and the man fully expected he’d be getting laid tonight. Multiple times.
As I cradle Max’s head and continue to bop around the apartment, Ryan pops a kiss on my temple. “I’ll make us some dinner.”
It isn’t more than ten minutes into Ryan cooking, that Max begins to wail his high-pitched cry. I attempt to soothe him, quietly speaking in his ear, rubbing his back, but it’s no use. He’s upset.
Ryan looks over his shoulder while standing at the stove. “Want me to try?”
We’ve watched Max a few times since I moved in, and Ryan has never once held him.
“Really? I kind of thought you were afraid of him.”
Ryan exhales a sharp laugh. “Please. The only reason I’ve never taken him from you is because I know how much you love having him, but I babysat Max on my own multiple times before you moved in. I’m not afraid, Blue.”
I truly have no idea how many times this man will continue to surprise me, but it’s just like Ryan to stay quiet until needing to say something.
Max wails once again, and as much as it pains me, I’m not who he wants right now.
Reaching out, Ryan takes him from me, situating Max’s head on his shoulder. Effortlessly, he holds him up with a single forearm and continues to cook us dinner as if nothing has changed. The softest singing voice echoes throughout the kitchen as Ryan sings into Max’s ear, and I swear to God my ovaries are on high alert because Ryan Shay holding a baby while cooking me dinner has got to be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
He soothes him, placing soft kisses on his head between lyrics and within a minute or two Max is fully content snuggled into the crook of Ryan’s neck.
My boyfriend shoots me a mischievous smile over his shoulder, infinitely proud of himself and I’ve got to admit, I’m right there with him.
Ryan continues to cook as I watch the two of them, and there’s even a couple of times that he pulls a sweet giggle from Max. I offer to help, but Ryan refuses, saying he’s got it handled and I don’t need much convincing that he does. He’s a natural with him, and the only thing that understanding does is cause a rush of realization that I want this life with him.
I’ve always wanted to be a mom. Clearly, the whole reason I moved in in the first place was to save enough money in order to make that dream a reality. But it’s no longer this innate desire to parent. Instead, I want to parent with him.
This might be horrible to admit, but in a way, I was selfish in wanting kids. I wanted to be a mom. I wanted to have children, and for the first time in my life, there’s someone else I picture right alongside me while I do it.
We take our food to the couch and when I offer to feed Max his bottle while Ryan eats first, he refuses. He feeds him and insists I eat while my food is still hot.
Max passes out asleep before his bottle is fully emptied, just the way his dad said he would and Ryan repositions himself back on the couch, allowing the sweet baby boy to sleep on his chest while he eats his now lukewarm dinner.
Taking a forkful of pasta, Ryan smiles at me with his mouth full and a sleeping baby on his chest.
I want to speak. I want to say something about how natural he looks or how sexy it is to see him so confident with a baby, but I keep my mouth shut. I’m so afraid to scare Ryan away, to give him any reason to question me. The man abstained from sex for years because he didn’t want to give someone the chance to take advantage of him.
Because he was afraid.
But I’m equally terrified that he’ll never want the things in life I ache for and seeing him like this tonight is nothing but a reminder that it wasn’t long ago he vocalized just how differently he viewed his future from the one I want.
