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  I have no idea how long I go, but eventually, I collapse to the mat in an exhausted, sweaty heap. Ryan sits down next to me, his legs bent and his forearms resting on his knees as he waits me out. I’m breathing hard and heavy, but I feel lighter. Freer. My anger is nowhere to be found. I’m sure it will come back, I don’t for a second think that this was the cure, but it helped.

  It helped, and I think I need Ryan.

  He just saved me.

  I throw my arms around his neck, practically tackling him down to the rubber mat. “Thank you,” I breathe into him. “Oh my god, thank you so much.”

  He holds me—sweaty, smelly, disgusting mess and all.

  “If you ever want to train, let me know,” Carlos says from above us.

  “Thank you, Carlos. That was fantastic.”

  He smiles warmly down at me and then walks off.

  “Come on, Katie. Let’s go get you cleaned up and fed.”

  I pull back and kiss his cheek before prying myself off the floor.

  “You’re brilliant, Ryan,” I beam at him. “That was exactly what I needed. How will I ever get by without you?”

  He doesn’t say anything back—it was rhetorical after all, well for the most part— he just helps me remove my gloves. Ryan may think my words were said in an off-the-cuff way, but they weren’t.

  I meant them wholeheartedly. I’m starting to get to the point where I’m no longer excited for the next location. Because each place we go brings us closer and closer to Seattle. And I’m suddenly very interested in prolonging my time with Ryan.

  12

  Kate

  * * *

  Amarillo and Albuquerque end up being uneventful. They’re a series of standard hotels and amazing Tex-Mex food and pools. No complaints, but the part of the trip that I’m really getting excited about is ahead.

  The drive through Arizona is freaking hot, since most of it is desert. Nothing but flat dry earth and endless blue sky as far as the eye can see. I make us stop along the way and take a million pictures with my phone.

  I’m sure Ryan thinks I’m nuts, but I don’t care.

  I’ve noticed he takes plenty of pictures himself.

  Ever since my punching match with the bag in Dallas, Ryan has been…a little distant. I wouldn’t say he thinks less of me or anything, but he has definitely changed, and I don’t know why. I try to talk to him, ask him questions, and behave like I always have, but his answers are short and direct and he doesn’t tease me or touch me the way I have grown accustomed to.

  He barely even looks at me.

  After the longest drive ever, through construction and traffic and desert, we pull into the hotel late at night. We’re both exhausted and somehow dirty, and Ryan seems to be in a mood, so I offer to go and check us in.

  “Good evening and welcome,” a short man with black hair and dark skin says with a thick Spanish accent. “Do you have a reservation?”

  “No, we were hoping you have two rooms available.”

  He looks at me like I’m insane. “I’m sorry, we only have one room left and it is a king room.”

  Crap. Ryan will not like that. In truth, I don’t know how I feel about it either.

  “Okay, give me a sec,” I start to walk away and then pause. “Can you please hold the room for a minute while I talk to my friend?”

  “Sure.”

  I doubt anyone is going to claim it since it is so late, but still.

  “Hey, Ryan?” I call out and then find him pacing, staring at his phone. He looks up and does not look pleased to see me. “Sorry to interrupt,” I nod toward his phone. No response, so I continue. “Um. They only have one room left and it’s a king room.”

  He glares at me like it is my fault that we are in a pattern of not making reservations ahead of time. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  Okay, this is not the reaction I was hoping for. I shake my head. “No. Sorry.” I bite my lip, suddenly feeling like shit, because I’m the one who really wanted to come to the Grand Canyon. “Do you want to drive around and look for another place?”

  “No,” he snaps, running a frustrated hand through his wild hair. “I’m fucking tired and sick of driving.”

  “So I’ll just tell the guy we’ll take it?” I hedge, shifting my weight.

  “Whatever, Katie.”

  I guess I’ll take that as a yes. Making my way back up to the counter, I give the guy my credit card and he gives me two room keys.

  “Ryan?” Damn, why do I suddenly feel so nervous to talk to him? I hate this feeling. “I have our room.” My voice is meek.

  “Great. Looking forward to it.”

  We get up to the room, which is actually pretty nice, and he slams his suitcase down. We have clean clothes; we did our laundry in a laundromat at our last stop.

  “Why don’t you go shower first, princess, and I’ll just make up my pallet on the floor.” His sarcasm and disdain are killing me. I’ve officially had enough.

  I slash my arm through the air in front of us. “What the hell is your problem?” I yell, and he looks stunned for a flash before his eyes narrow in anger. Well, fuck that. “I get it. You’re tired. I’m tired. We’ve been on the road for two weeks together, and you’re sick of me, but ease the fuck up.”

  “Ease the fuck up?” he yells back. “Katie, this is bullshit.”

  “What’s bullshit?” We’re both working up a good head of steam here. He paces around in a small circle in front of me.

  “I’ve been stuck in a tiny ass car with you all day and now I have to sleep on the goddamn floor.” He points down at the carpet next to the bed.

  “I never said you have to sleep on the floor.” I point at him. “You did. It’s a king bed, Ryan, I’m sure we can both fit.”

  “Oh,” he throws his hands up. “So now it’s okay for me to sleep next to you?”

  He’s not even making sense. “What the hell?” I yell and push his chest with my palms. “Why have you been so cold to me since Dallas? Was it because I had my freak-out? You’re the one who brought me to the boxing place.”

  He stops pacing instantly and looks at me. “No. It’s not about that.” He’s serious, and I’m glad, because the thought of him becoming distant over that stung.

  “Then what is it? We were having such a good time together.” All of the fight is out of me and now I just feel small. “What did I do? You’ve been like a different person toward me.”

  He takes a harsh step forward, cutting the distance between us by half. “What do you think this is between us?” His tone is clipped, strident. His finger is flying back and forth, gesturing between us.

  I’m stunned. And hurt. And I don’t know what, but it’s not good.

  “I thought you were my friend,” I say in a weak voice, wishing I had it in me to be stronger.

  “That’s what you think this is? Friendship?” Why does he sound so incredulous? What the hell else would it be?

  I have no idea what’s going on right now.

  I’m totally at a loss, so I just stare up at him blinking.

  When I don’t respond, he runs his hand through his hair, mutters something under his breath that I cannot make out, and then walks past me.

  “I’m going to shower first.” The door to the bathroom slams behind him, startling me. Maybe I’ve pushed him too far on this trip, and he is finally getting sick of being stuck with me. He probably just thinks of me as some bat-shit crazy charity case that he has to deal with.

  I walk over to the bathroom and once I hear the sound of the shower curtain opening and closing, I knock softly on the door.

  “Ryan?” I call out, but my voice is soft, and I doubt he can hear me over the water of the shower so I open the door and try again. “Ryan?”

  He lets out a harsh breath. “What, Katie? I’m in the shower.”

  “I know, and I’m not going to look, but I want to ask you something.” I close the lid of the toilet seat and sit down.

  “And it couldn’t wait un
til I was done?”

  God, there is just no give with him tonight. As much as I don’t want to ask this next question, I have to. And no, I couldn’t wait.

  “Ryan? Do you want to forget the rest of the trip and have me take you directly up to Seattle? Or if you’d rather I not come along, you can always rent a car and go yourself.” I’m trying to keep my voice even, desperate to hide the ache that these words cause inside of me. “I’ll understand either way. I realize it has been a long time on the road with me and that I can be a lot. Whatever you want to do, I’m okay with it.”

  I’m not, but I have to give him the out just the same.

  He’s silent, the only sound in the small steamy space is the shower running. Suddenly I hear what sounds like his fist smacking against the wet tile wall and he curses under his breath.

  “I’ll uh… I’ll let you finish your shower.” I stand up and walk toward the bathroom door. “Just think about what I said and let me know what you decide you’d like to do.”

  I leave him in there to finish and go directly to my suitcase. Busy. I need to keep busy or I’ll cry, and I’m so sick of crying.

  I dig through my nice clean clothes and find a tank top, boy shorts, panties, and my toiletry bag. The shower shuts off, and a minute later, Ryan walks out with a towel wrapped around his waist.

  I’ve seen Ryan without a shirt on several occasions. At the beach and the pool, but I never really allowed myself to look too closely. But as he stalks toward his suitcase, I take in every muscle and the way they stretch and pull with his movements.

  He is unbelievable looking. So strong and sculpted.

  Yet Ryan is so unassuming with the beard and glasses.

  I sort of like that about him.

  Averting my eyes, because what I’m doing just feels wrong, I grab my stuff and walk past him into the bathroom.

  He lets me. Doesn’t even try to stop me.

  I hate that I feel like I lost the only real friend in my life right now. Turning on the shower, I strip down and step in, letting the warm water cascade over me.

  I’m getting this feeling again. It is similar to the one I had after Maggie and Eric died. Emptiness. A feeling of void. Like I have no purpose or home. Like I’m lost.

  And right now, that is exactly how I feel.

  Lost.

  I have no home. No job. No real friends.

  “How did I get here?” I whisper aloud.

  I really don’t know. Leaving Boston seemed like the only solution to an unsolvable problem. Before, Eric and Maggie grounded me. Completed me and gave me a sense of home. When they died, that feeling died with them, and that emptiness only grew and grew until I had a great big chasm inside of me. So I foolishly thought that if I left, that feeling wouldn’t follow me. That I’d be able to find something real to hold onto.

  And maybe that is what I have done to Ryan.

  Maybe I latched onto him, and everything I thought was mutual, was really just one-sided. How totally and completely unfair of me. He’s just trying to get across the country because he doesn’t fly, and has been indulging my whims because he doesn’t want to be rude to the sad, lonely girl.

  No wonder he’s snapping at me.

  The poor guy has finally reached his limit, and I’m selfishly making it all about me and my pathetic attempt at finding a life again.

  I finish washing up, turn off the shower and dry off. Changing into my clothes, I brush my teeth and then my hair before braiding it. I usually don’t shower at night because I hate sleeping with wet hair, but I don’t have the energy to dry it, so a braid will have to suffice.

  I walk out of the bathroom and the room is bathed in darkness. It takes me a minute or two for my eyes to adjust, but once they do, I see Ryan lying on his side facing the window pressed all the way to the edge of the large bed.

  Christ, the guy can hardly stand the idea of sleeping in the same bed as me.

  I get in on the other side and quietly try to adjust my position without disturbing him.

  “Katie?” he asks softly.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry for being so distant the last few days. It is nothing you’ve done, and I apologize if I have made you feel otherwise.” He doesn’t move to look at me. Just talks to me with his back facing me.

  “Do you want to go straight up to Seattle?”

  “No.” His tone is firm. “I don’t. I’d like to spend these last two weeks with you, and I promise that I’ll be more myself going forward.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I offer quietly, turning to face him though he is still not looking at me.

  “No. I don’t. It won’t help, but thank you for offering.”

  “If you change your mind, I’m always here for you.”

  He sighs out, and it sounds sad, maybe a little resigned. “I know you are. You’re an amazing friend, Katie. Good night.”

  “Good night, Ryan.”

  Sleep comes quickly for me despite the unrest inside of me.

  My first thought when I wake up is that the air conditioner must be broken, which sucks because we’re in the desert. My second thought is that Ryan is not going to be happy when he wakes up and finds me wrapped around him like a vine. I have no idea how I managed to crawl my body across this bed and latch onto him like this, but I did.

  And the irony of it all? I’ve never been a nighttime snuggler.

  Eric and I always stuck to our own respective sides of the bed and woke up the same way.

  So just what the absolute fuck am I doing right now?

  Despite how nice it feels to be against his warm skin, I need to move before he wakes up to find me like this. Ever so slowly, I try and slide my leg from between his thighs and my arm from underneath his, but as I do, he begins to stir. Shit.

  “Mmm,” he hums, rolling into me and burying his nose in my hair, further pinning me against him. He’s still asleep, but now I have no idea how I am going to move because he is holding me like a vise. His arms are wrapped around me, plastering me against his bare chest, and my leg is tucked tightly between his.

  I try pulling back again anyway.

  “Katie,” he whispers, rocking into me. Holy hell, he’s practically hard. I know it’s just morning wood, but damn.

  I move back again, and this time his eyes flash open to find my face only inches from his. He startles, eyes wide, blinking rapidly for a moment before a soft smile lights up his sleepy face.

  “Did I do this or did you?” he whispers, and I’m a bit relieved that he’s not pissed about it.

  “I did, I think.” I bite my lip nervously. “Sorry.”

  He chuckles softly. “Are you always this clingy in bed?”

  I laugh lightly and shake my head against his pillow. “No. Normally I’m not a cuddler.”

  He hasn’t let me go. Why hasn’t he let me go? Why do I not want him to?

  “I don’t think I’ve ever woken up with someone this way.”

  “Neither have I,” I smile, and then he smiles, and then we’re both smiling at each other like this is so unbelievable to both of us, and yet, we still don’t pull away.

  His eyes are looking into mine and mine are looking into his, and suddenly, I’m full of flutters and nervous anticipation.

  His eyes are so beautiful. Such an incredible shade of green. His nose isn’t too big or too small, and has the perfect amount of character like it was broken once upon a time and he never got it fixed. His lips are surrounded by the dark bristles of his beard, but they’re full and look soft.

  I scroll up his face, examining feature by feature until I reach his eyes.

  They look different.

  The green is eclipsed by dark, dilated pupils that bounce back and forth between my lips and my eyes. There is heat in them. There is a question in them as well, and I know I should draw back. I know I should, but I absolutely cannot make myself do it.

  “Katie?” he asks softly. It’s a question and a promise.

  His head mov
es infinitesimally toward mine, and like the other half of a magnet, mine inches toward his. That’s all the consent he needs before he closes the small distance and presses his lips to mine. He holds this position for a moment like he is giving me an out if I want to stop this.

  I don’t.

  I really freaking don’t, so I kiss him back.

  13

  Kate

  * * *

  A hum escapes Ryan’s throat, and it is quite possibly the best sound I have ever heard. His lips press harder into mine, moving against me in a way that I feel all the way down to my toes. My hands glide up his muscular arms, savoring the feel of them as I continue up into his hair. This sets something off in him because all of a sudden our slow languid pace becomes passionate and eager for more.

  He opens my mouth with his, and when our tongues meet, he groans into me.

  God, I could live off of that sound.

  One of his hands is on my lower back, pressing me further into him, his other beneath me, sliding down my braid until he reaches the elastic. He pulls it from my hair and then unfolds my braid little by little, running his fingers through the strands.

  It is so freaking hot I can hardly stand it.

  Ryan’s head moves, adjusting the angle of our kiss, deepening it.

  I can’t seem to get enough. I’m starving, and he is the only thing that can feed this hunger. He rocks into me and a moan slips out between my lips, which makes him groan as if he enjoys my sounds just as much as I enjoy his.

  “Katie,” he breathes against my lips between kisses. “Oh god, Katie, I’ve wanted this for so long.”

  I can’t respond, I just moan into his mouth again as my fingers rake up the planes of his muscular chest. The bristles of his beard brush against my cheek and neck as his mouth explores my sensitive skin.

  I can’t get enough.

  I want more, more, more.

  His kisses are the best sort of drug and I’m high on them.

  Suddenly, his hand cups my breast under my tank top, making my head roll back and an embarrassingly loud moan fly out of my lips.

  “Fuck,” he hisses. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”