Page 44 of Take 2
Chapter Forty-One
“A re you going to sell me out to our driver again?” Ryan asks as we disembark the plane. My mind swivels between thinking of him as Ryan or Preston pretty rapidly. They are combining into one person now, but when I look at him with heart eyes, I tend to default to Ryan.
“No. You’re using your secret identity.”
We step onto the escalator, me one step above him so I’m closer to his height. He weaves his fingers through mine. “Do you like having secrets of mine?”
“Your name is far from my favorite secret about you.” I give him a light kiss.
At every available moment of the baggage claim process and drive home, I keep hold of Ryan’s hand.
LA is its typical bright, sunny self, and we meld back into it like we belong here.
We do now. How weird is that? Being back feels like the test. Can we survive in our normal lives together?
I push the door to my apartment open; it’s so weird to be showing him my home for the first time after everything we’ve been through.
My gray cat graces us with her presence, so I scoop her up and tell her I missed her while Ryan checks the place out.
“This is really nice, Bella.” He scratches Tabitha Paige’s head. “Of course, you got a pandemic pet.”
“Not the worst decision I made during that. Be grateful you didn’t have to pretend to like bread I baked.”
He takes my suitcase into the bedroom, and I follow him tentatively like the wrong step will shatter everything. His eyes meet mine, and he asks, “What’s wrong?”
TP jumps out of my arms, unwilling to be a shield, apparently.
“California broke us last time.”
Ryan comes back to where I’m leaning on the doorframe. “No, we broke us. Now we’re older and wiser. We know LA and our jobs.”
I sigh. “I wanted to call you when I felt my first earthquake.”
He wraps his arms around me the way I wish he’d done then. “Me too. And I always watched how close fires got to you.”
Why did I ever let this man go? Well, I’ve got him now. Just have to make sure I hold on tight. “Why did you stay? You didn’t even like it here. I figured you’d move back after we broke up.”
His chest rises and falls against me. “At first, I couldn’t be that far from you. Eventually, California grew on me.”
“Yeah, I’d say so.” I arch back to look at him and reach up to comb my fingers through his offensively silky hair.
“Aren’t you scared at all? As much as I hate to put pressure on the situation, the thought of us breaking up again …
” My throat tightens. This was the real reason I avoided him for so long.
Not because I was angry about his career change or the awards.
Because I don’t know how I’d survive losing him again.
“Yeah.” His hand slides up into my hair.
“That was why I waited as long as I did. I always knew I wanted you back, and maybe waiting helped, or maybe it was just a waste of time. We still can’t guarantee forever, but right now, needing to be part of your life, talking to you, holding you, is much stronger than the fear for the future.
I don’t want to hide from this or from you anymore.
I loved who you were at eighteen, and I love who you are now.
I want to be around to see who you’ll become and how we’ll love each other then. ”
I rise onto my toes, and he pulls me tighter to him. “I love you. And loving you is worth the risk.” We kiss slowly, deeply. Fuck Pilates and dolphins, this is what calms me.
When he pulls back, there’s a mischievous look in his eyes. “You know what we need to catch up on, though?”
“I still haven’t seen all your movies?”
“Sure, but more importantly …” He holds up a finger and disappears into my closet. Hangers rattle against each other.
“What are you doing?”
“You’ll see.” After another minute, Ryan emerges with an armload of dresses.
He tosses a blue sequin gown onto my bed.
“This year’s awards.” The red lacy gown drops on top of it.
“The year of your first nomination.” A ruffly pink dress.
“The year before that when Cece and Stephen came to town.” The silver A-line. “The year I won my first Oscar.”
He knows all my Oscars dresses.
“Of course I saw you in this one.” He lays the sexy black cocktail dress on top of the growing pile. “It was complete torture seeing you at Lisa’s in this, by the way. The yellow one from the year before is in your suitcase, and I can only assume you wore it to dinner with Rafi to torture me.”
I cover my gaping mouth. “I didn’t even think of that. It’s so casual I forgot I wore it that year.”
“Your refusal to get it rumpled by having sex in it that night was cruel. And, of course, the year we were separated.” The navy jumpsuit dress tops the pile. “It did make me feel better that you wouldn’t be having sex in that.”
“Don’t know why you brought it out then.”
“Oh, it won’t be wearable afterward.” He closes the distance between us again.
“But I believe we had a deal about your Oscars dresses.” His kiss ripples through my nerves and into my bones.
None of that is going to happen right now because there is no way in hell we’re going to get any clothes onto me.
“Wait. There was a year in between my nominations.”
“We already got that dress.” His hands slide around my waist and up under the back of my shirt. “Wasn’t that part of your evil plan when we went to the beach in Villefranche?”
I gasp as it comes together. “That’s why you looked like a cartoon wolf when I came out in that!”
“And why we didn’t take it off when I finally got to fuck you.”
“You say got to like I was the one who—”
My argument is silenced with another kiss. I’ll accept that this time, but if he thinks he can always shut me up like this … well, he might be right. I can’t imagine a time when I won’t prefer this to anything else.
“We have some time to get through all those, right?” I point to the pile of sparkly fabric with my eyes.
“As long as you keep choosing to be my girlfriend.”
Today, I choose to be with him. When one of us is already working before the other wakes up, when we’re cranky from late nights, under the covers, or at the coffee maker, we choose to be together. Whether we wake up after fighting or lovemaking, we choose to be together. Every day.