This man is sex. Pure sex, and the butterflies in my stomach are going absolutely crazy for him.
“You okay, baby?” His breath is harsh in my ear.
Nothing matters other than the fact that he’s here. With me. Holding me in his arms just like I was craving this whole time, and it’s even better than I remembered.
And the fact that he’s started calling me baby? Those butterflies love that fact very much. The thought alone makes them brush against my stomach with their fluttery wings while my heart pounds in sync with them.
“More than okay.” I turn my head to get better access to his neck so I can nuzzle it and breathe him in. His musky scent is delicious, a dizzying mix of mint and lavender and him.
We cuddle a few more minutes with Ryan caressing my back until I shiver.
“Playtime over?” He chuckles in my ear and presses a gentle kiss to my throat.
I push on my elbows to look at him. “I’m afraid so. For now, at least. Maybe you want to show me that fancy bathroom of yours?”
“I’d love to.”
Neither one of us moves. Instead, I trace his dark eyebrows, slide down his straight nose, and swipe over his swollen lips.
His eyes flare with renewed lust, and he closes the distance between us, hovering a breath away from my mouth. “Maybe we should check out that bathroom now, so I can show you again how much I’ve missed you.”
After another round of phenomenal sex in the shower, where Ryan presses me up against the tiles and takes me so hard I see stars, we both cozy up on the bed in our plush hotel robes, waiting for room service to arrive with lunch. We’ve been busy for several hours now, and my stomach has been growling at us ever since we left the bathroom, much to Ryan’s amusement.
He pulls me into his side, spinning a strand of my hair around his finger. “You have your normal doctor’s appointment Wednesday, right?”
“Yeah.” I grab his free hand and play with his fingers, a sullen mood clouding my happiness. “When will you fly back?”
“Sunday.”
In two days.
“That’s so soon.” I’m incapable of keeping the sadness out of my voice, not that I’m trying hard.
Ryan presses a lingering kiss to the top of my head. “I know. My coach would have my ass if I took off more time. He’s already not happy with me for leaving at all. He’s very strict with our training schedules, even more so since I was the one begging him last year to take me on.”
A snowstorm couldn’t have frozen my insides faster than his mention of his coach did. My dad.
I can’t do this anymore. I’ve been able to ignore the guilt, but it keeps bubbling up faster and stronger each time, eating more at me. I clear my throat and look at my hands. “Ryan, I . . . there’s something I need to tell you.”
“What is it?”
I open my mouth just as there’s a knock on the door.
“One sec.” Ryan squeezes my hip and gets off the bed.
He walks to the door, talking to the hotel employee. After signing the receipt, he grabs the cart and rolls it inside the room, the door closing quietly behind him.
When he sees me still lying on the bed, he tilts his head. “Where do you want to eat?”
I stare at him, my insides paralyzed at the thought of telling him about my dad.
I had everything planned out. A situation where I’d fly out to see him and come clean before anything else happened between us, because I knew it would complicate things further if I didn’t. But it’s too late for that now.
Things already are more complicated, and the intimacy between us has clouded my mind. It made my fear of losing him—of losing us—a million times worse. Each text message or phone call between us cemented my feelings for him that much more, which got me to the point where I’m at now. With moisture collecting at the back of my neck and a real possibility of me starting to hyperventilate at any moment.
I can’t do it. I can’t tell him. I just can’t.
I’m going to lose him and ruin his career.