Page 54 of The Downside of Love
Stryder shakes his head. “I’m good, thanks though.”
“Rory?”
“I probably shouldn’t drink given the medication I’ve been taking since the surgery.”
“Yeah, probably not a good idea.” She eyes the beer tent. “Okay, we’re off to be quarantined with the rest of the drunks. Have fun, you two.”
Brad helps Ryan to her feet, drapes his arm over her shoulder, and they walk toward the area where you’re allowed to drink alcohol in the park.
“Are you sure you don’t want a beer?” I ask Stryder, who is just about done with his s’more. One bite left. “I don’t mind if you want to go over there with them.”
“Rather be here,” he answers, putting the rest of the s’more in his mouth. Chewing, he cleans up the area, putting our food in the cooler. “Want a water?”
I hold up my half-full bottle. “Still working on this one. Thank you, though.”
He snags a bottle for himself, and then takes a seat next to me, his shoulder bumping into mine. “What’s been your favorite song so far?”
I think about it. They have yet to play “Let It Be,” so I’m still waiting on that one, but if I had to choose . . .
“’Can’t Buy Me Love’ was really well done.” I shiver as the sun drops lower behind the mountains. The lights around the park start to turn on.
“You cold?”
“Just a little.”
He sets his bottle down next to him and says, “Come here.”
I eye him up and down. Wearing khaki cargo shorts and a dark blue T-shirt, his short black hair styled to the side with gel, and his cheeky grin, he really is a handsome man. Add in his delicious-smelling cologne, he’s almost dangerous.
But when I look him in the eyes, I can’t stop myself from feeling completely comfortable when I scoot between his legs and allow myself to lean back into his strong chest. Legs spread, knees bent, he leans forward and grabs a spare blanket to drape over my lap, his chest pressing against my back. When I think he’s going to lie back, he moves his head over my shoulder and rests his arms on his knees.I’m within the circle of his arms. God, it feels good.
My eyes close, my body takes in his, the feel of his heart beating against my back, the way his warmth encases me, and somehow he’s like a lullaby for my erratically beating heart.
I shouldn’t be feeling this way about Stryder. Ishouldn’tbe sitting with him like this.
Mentally, I say we’re just close friends, and this is how close friends act. I’m cold, he’s warming me up; that’s it.
“Is that better?” he asks, his voice a whisper, deep and rumbling over my skin, spreading goose bumps up and down my body.
My breath catches in my chest, my body hums, begging for him to say something else. “Yes.” I swallow hard. “Better. Thank you.”
“If you’re uncomfortable, let me know.”
How could I ever be uncomfortable? I don’t think I’ve ever been more comfortable in my life. Stryder’s chest is brawny and large, providing the perfect form to lean against. His knees propped up next to my shoulders provide warmth, and his deep voice is the perfect soundtrack for this night.
“Are you enjoying yourself?”
I wonder if Ryan can see us, and what she would think if she saw Stryder and me in this position? Would she wonder if there’s something going on? Or would she think little of it?
If I saw her and Stryder in this position, I would think a lot about it, and for some reason, the thought of them in this position makes me feel . . . awful.
Bringing myself back to the present, trying not to read too much into what’s happening, I answer him. “I am. Thank you for bringing me. This was such a good idea. Have you seen any of your friends from work?”
He chuckles, and his chest vibrates against my back. “I wouldn’t necessary call them friends, but yes, I saw a few in the beer tent.”
Hmm, I wonder if that’s why he didn’t want to go over there.
The sound of a familiar piano tune plays out of the speakers, followed by some of my favorite song lyrics.
