53. Kayla

Chapter 53

Kayla

For what is, apparently, our second date, Ryan invites me over for dinner at his parent’s chalet. Whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean.

Any other time we’ve been alone in this house, we’ve headed straight for his bedroom and stripped as fast as possible. It feels awkward to be here for any other purpose, but what does it say I’m more comfortable around him with my clothes off than on?

Nobody’s lighting fires this early, and without Cheryl’s beautiful tree in the corner, and sparkling decorations hanging from the mantlepiece, the house feels bare. It’s like I’ve slipped into some dream state, a familiar location with an unfamiliar mindset.

“You can sit,” he tells me, but sitting down feels far too formal. This isn’t right. I’m not supposed to be here. He’s not supposed to be here. The plan was to live my best life without giving him a second thought.

Instead, he’s everywhere.

In all the shops, working in my favourite bar, in my friend’s text messages after swapping numbers to make sure I got home after Allie and Mel’s pre-wedding celebrations.

Mel told me they’ve invited him, a man they met for three hours in a bar, to their wedding. It’s ridiculous. There’s no way I’m letting that happen, and I already RSVP’d without a plus one .

A few days ago, he called to invite me on our first date, something I apparently agreed to after several shots of tequila. I only agreed because I was hungry, but then he picked me up wearing a henley and a backwards cap, and I was done for. We walked three streets to a little cafe that does the best omelettes in town and made the awkward small talk people make on first dates.

Food, weather, music, movies. All stuff I already know about him, some silly game of roleplay that fucked with my head so badly I couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the day. After he paid for our food, he walked me home and told me he had to get work, but that he hoped our second date would last longer.

So here I am, pacing the length of his living room, wondering what prompted him to abandon his dreams and flip his life upside down.

“How long are you planning to stay here?” I ask when he hands me a chilled glass of Sancerre.

“Forever, hopefully. You look beautiful, by the way.”

Ordinarily I wouldn’t give my clothes more than a second thought, so God knows why I emptied my entire wardrobe out before settling on a blue sundress with tiny white flowers and a cute knitted cardigan. It’s not very me, and neither are the meticulous curls I’ve styled in my hair. Stupid boy has gotten me acting insane.

I clink my glass against his. “You’ll live in this house?”

“Dad said I could stay in the off-season, but I only have a few more weeks until bookings start up again.”

“Then what will you do?”

“Find an apartment, I guess. Somewhere with enough space to work from, too. You got any leads?” he cocks one eyebrow, and I know what he's hinting at, but I play along.

“I could ask around. What do you need for work?”

“A desk and a quiet spot. That’s pretty much it,” he says .

“What are you working on? Not exactly a lot of film studios around here.”

“I’ve switched to audiobook production for now. Cameron knows a guy in that line of work who always needs new sound engineers so he can take on more contracts. I get the recordings, edit a few books a week, send them back. It’s pretty easy actually, and the workload is more manageable. Plus, I can do it anywhere in the world.”

He says that last part while sipping his wine, and refusing to look away. I could smack that smug grin right off his face.

“What?” he laughs. “What’s that look about?”

“It’s that easy? You quit your job and move across the world with a computer and a suitcase?”

“Yeah, turns out it is. Gave notice on my apartment, donated a bunch of stuff to Goodwill, booked the ticket, and here I am. I’m an idiot for not doing it sooner, frankly.”

“What about when you get bored? Or Hollywood calls and offers you some once in a lifetime movie?”

“I’ll tell them I’m unavailable. I’m with my girl.”

His girl .

I can’t even pretend to hate it. It’s so sweet when he lets his mask drop, and it’s only making me fall harder.

Ryan only has one drink with dinner, and after a dessert of petit fours from the local patisserie , he drives me up the road to my village and holds my hand while he walks me to my door. It’s been a perfect evening, and despite my reluctance to be first to cave, I’m not ready for our night to be over.

I lean against the wall in the dim light of my communal hallway, and he plants one arm above my head. We stare at each other, both knowing we’re about to cross some invisible point of no return. His eyes flutter closed, and he presses his forehead to mine, inhaling deeply.

“Ryan, please?” I sigh, pressing my hand over his heart.

“What is it, Bunny?”

“Kiss me?”

“I can’t,” he says, stepping back and leaning against the opposite wall. My jaw drops and he can’t hide his satisfaction. He knows the effect he has on me. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’d really love to, but this is only our second date. We’re still getting to know each other.”

I scoff loudly. This is the man who had me half-naked on the kitchen counter less than fifteen minutes after bumping into each other last winter.

“I wouldn’t want to rush anything and do something you regret, but I would love a third date if you have some space in your schedule.”

“You’re not serious.”

“Oh, I absolutely am,” he smirks, walking backwards away from me with his hands fixing the front of his trousers.

Inside, it takes under five minutes to bring myself to orgasm, and I come screaming his name like a curse.