You Before Me (25 page)

My family loves football, so with the
game in full swing, there isn't a lot of talking going on that
isn't football related. Gramps includes Ryan in his comments. She
seems to be enjoying herself, but I notice her teeth are chattering
a little. Is she that cold? I mean, there's a bite in the air, but
she should be warm enough.

“Hey,” I catch her attention. “Do you
want some hot chocolate?”

Ryan grins. “Yes, I would.”

“Do y'all need anything?” Everyone
shakes their heads. “We'll be right back then,” I say to the rest
of my family, noticing my mother paying extra attention to us now.
Ryan slips her hand into mine as we stand, and I lead her down the
steps. Once we are down the ramp, there are less people around. I
swivel, causing Ryan to run into me as she laughs with
embarrassment. I don't give her a chance to apologize. Instead, my
hands dive through her hair to grasp her neck, bringing her to me
for a kiss. Ryan's icy fingers chill my skin over my
beard.

Needing to taste her, I swipe my
tongue over her lips, and they part quickly at my demand. She
sighs, leaning into me as she fervently kisses me back with the
same eagerness. Reluctantly, I pull away, her lips already forming
a smile.

“Is that why you dragged me out here?”
She asks.

“Partly. I've wanted to do that since
the moment I saw you. But your mouth was moving like one of those
chattering teeth toys, so I figured you might want something to
warm you up.”

“C'mon then,” she laughs, taking my
hand and tugging me towards the concession stands. While we wait in
line, she adds, “The cold is bitter tonight. If I had known, I
would have brought a thicker jacket or something.”

“You didn't watch the weather?” I
tease, remembering what she said the morning after her
birthday.

Ryan seems to be full of laughter
tonight. “No, I didn't, smart ass.”

We step forward, and I order her drink
before she can. When asked if she would like whipped cream, Ryan
shakes her head. I go to reach into my wallet, but Ryan waves her
hand at me, pulling money from her pocket.

“Don't even think about it,” I
protest.

She shoves the money at the woman
before I can stop her. When she turns to face me, she rolls her
eyes. “Relax. It's only hot chocolate, Gabe. C'mon, we're in the
way.” We step to the side, Ryan taking a moment to sip her drink
before we head back to my family. “Mmm,” she mumbles
heavenly.

I laugh at her. “Ready
now?”

Ryan holds out her hand, so I take it
and lead her back to our seats. Gramps smiles when he sees
us.

“About time you two got back. I was
startin' to think y'all escaped.”

Ryan giggles, taking her seat next to
him. “Now why would we do that?”

I wrap my arm around her shoulders,
tugging her closer to me in hopes to keep her warm, and Gramps
gives a hearty laugh.

“Darlin', I remember how I was when I
was young and in love with my sweetie.” At this, he pats my
grandmother on the knee affectionately as the horn sounds to alert
us of halftime.

I expect Ryan to tense, and she does
for a moment, but then she smiles sweetly at Gramps. “I bet you do,
Gramps. It couldn't have been that long ago,” she says.

He laughs. “You are a charmer,
darlin'.”

Just then, my mother drags him into a
conversation with her and Dad. Ryan drains what's left of her drink
and looks at me as the players start to file back onto the
field.

Quietly, so no one will hear her, she
mutters, “Oops. I didn't offer you any.” She holds up her empty cup
and intentionally licks her lips. “You can still taste it though,
if you want.” Ryan gives me a wicked grin.

With my forefinger under her chin, I
keep her in place, pressing my lips against hers for just a
moment.

“You're terrible,” I chuckle. “Pay
attention to the game. You may have Gramps convinced, but I want to
see if you remembered anything.”

Once the game resumes, I start
questioning her, and she answers correctly each time. Sometimes, it
takes a moment before she can think of the right answer. It's
adorable because she'll look up at me expectantly, waiting for me
to nod in approval. We do this into the fourth quarter.

“Okay, what was that?”

“A fumble.” Ryan turns to me, and I
nod that she's right once more. She smiles, satisfied, before
turning her attention back to the game. “Did you doubt your
teaching abilities, Gabe?” She teases, without looking away from
the current play.

“No. Just checking to see how well I
did.”

She chuckles, but doesn't say anything
more. We watch the rest of the game with only a few comments here
and there. As expected, we win. Owen's team held a good lead
throughout the game. My family follows Ryan and I as we walk over
to the field goal posts, waiting for his coach to finish talking to
them. Ryan stands close to me, much as before, and I keep my arm
around her.

Owen grins big at Ryan when he makes
his way over. His hair is sweaty and matted down on his head from
his helmet. Owen holds up his hand and Ryan high fives
it.

“Good game,” she tells him.

“Thanks. I'm excited that you're
joining us for Thanksgiving next week.” I told my family soon after
we came back from Raleigh.

“Owen,” my mother sternly interrupts.
“We should go.”

“Yes, ma'am. See y'all later,” he
mumbles. Owen gives me a fist pump, hugs Ryan, and then hugs my
grandparents.

We all say our goodbyes, Gramps
hugging Ryan, and then we go our separate ways. I was able to park
near Ryan and as we walk towards our cars, she looks over at
me.

“I guess your mother isn't thrilled
about me joining y'all?”

“That's not it. Owen was caught
sneaking in this week, so he's in trouble. That's all,” I reassure
her.

Ryan nods, goes over to open the
little door to the gas cap, and grabs her keys. She unlocks her
doors, and I open it for her.

“I'll see you at your
place?”

“Yes, you will.” I give her a kiss
before she gets in, and I go to my own car. I'm so happy I told her
she should pack ahead of time and come stay with me
tonight.

My stomach growls loudly. It hits me
that I haven't eaten supper yet. Ryan pulls up right behind me and
once inside the house, I go straight to the fridge while Ryan goes
and puts her things in my bedroom. I decide to fix a grilled ham
and cheese and while I'm standing at the stove, Ryan comes up
behind me, burying her face in between my shoulder
blades.

“Your parents still hate me, you
know,” she whispers into my back.

“They do not,” I object.

“Oh really?” she says sarcastically.
“That's why they all talked to me like Gramps or even Owen did.”
Ryan sighs, and I realize she's right. Not one of them really spoke
to her. “But it's not me who has to get used to that, Gabe. I mean,
what I'm trying to say is that there is a serious possibility that
your parents aren't ever going to like me and that Thanksgiving is
going to be shot all to hell. So if you plan on keeping me around,
you are the one who has to get used to it.”

I scoop my sandwich onto the small
plate, turn off the stove, and face Ryan. Cupping her cheeks, I
tell her, “They do not hate you. They just don't know you
yet.”

She rolls her eyes. “They tried so
hard to fix that.”

“Did you try to talk to them?” I
question, raising an eyebrow at her.

Ryan frowns. “I said, 'Hello, how are
you.' Does that count?”

“How about we forget my parents for
tonight? How does that sound?”

“Perfect.”

I give her a kiss and ask if she would
like a sandwich as well. She shakes her head. Ryan grabs me a drink
from the fridge, grinning when she sees that there are some
Sunkists in there.

“So you do plan on keeping me around?”
She says as we go into my living room.

“Absolutely.”

We sit down and turn on the TV, but
Ryan still wants to talk. “I declared my major this
week.”

I smile. “You did? How do you feel
about that?”

“Liberated. Although, I haven't told
my parents yet. They actually haven't even tried calling me at all
this week. Not since I texted my mom to let them know that I
wouldn't be going home. But I'm really excited about it. I've even
looked up other museums and galleries in the state.”

Ryan is thrilled about choosing a
major, one that she wants without a doubt. That is clearly written
all over her face, and I love seeing it. I especially love having
her in my house, watching how comfortable she is here. My family
needs to like her. Or at least respect that I want her in my life.
Their opinion matters to me so much, even though I have ignored
some of it since seeing Ryan. I've ignored theirs and my own
reservations about her age, which actually no longer concerns me.
I've definitely chosen to ignore the comments about her tattoos,
because I love those.

“Hey, did you ever decide on your next
tattoo?” I ask, having finished my sandwich.

“Yeah, I did. There's not really a
reason for me to get this particular one, though. I was just
searching the internet for inspiration, came across this one, and
knew I needed it. Just a matter of going to get it.”

“Want to do it tonight?” For some
reason, I really want to watch this happen. Ryan's eyebrows rise,
so I add. “I would like to go with you. We're already here
together, so why not?”

“I usually set up an appointment, but
if you really want to go with, then let's go.” Ryan
grins.

We lock up the house, and Ryan drives
to the tattoo parlor she likes downtown. She holds my hand as we
walk inside, the sound of the needles buzzing immediately making me
queasy. The guy behind the desk grins at her, and his stupid eyes
rake over her body.

“Ryan! It's good to see you again.” He
glances at our hands, but ignores me. “We weren't expecting you,
but I'm happy you're here. Which part of your body will we be
privileged to see tonight?”

She laughs. “My side. Where's Max?”
Ryan turns to me to let me know who she's talking about. “I didn't
get my tats until I moved here for school, and Max has done them
all.”

I nod, and the guy tells her, “He's
not in tonight unfortunately. All our other artists are busy. You
can wait for one of them or I could do it. I'm only filling in here
until Sally finishes smoking her cigarette.”

Please say you'll wait, I think. It
didn't occur to me that someone else would be touching her,
especially not this guy who would love to do it.

“I don't know,” she says, but there's
a playful tone in her voice. “I love Max's work the best. However,
this is a simple tat, so I guess you can do it. It was a last
minute decision to do this tonight. Can I borrow the computer to
show you what I want?”

“Sure thing.”

Ryan leaves my side to walk behind the
desk, next to him. She doesn't seem to pay him any attention as he
looks over her once more. Which is why I'm completely surprised
when she says, “If you expect to tattoo me, quit looking at me like
that.” Without taking her eyes off the computer, she tilts her head
towards me and adds, “I don't appreciate it, and I doubt he does
either.”

He looks over at me. “And who is he?
You've never come here with a guy before.” His entire attitude has
changed now that Ryan has forced him to be aware of my presence.
Thankfully, he's stopped looking at her like he wants to fuck
her.

“That is Gabe, and he's a cop. Future
warning, Pete, if he ever pulls you over, don't be a smart
ass.”

He laughs, and I smile at her comment.
“I told you that mouth of yours would get you in trouble,” he says.
“That's what you want?” He adds, apparently seeing the tattoo on
the screen.

“Yes, and I want it right here.” Ryan
lifts her shirt on her left side and points to a spot just a little
bit away from the side of her breast, but down a little to sit more
on her ribcage. She's going to have to unhook her bra, so it won't
get in the way. Great.

“All right. Have a seat, and I'll draw
up a copy. Do you want it exactly like that? Black too?”

“No,” Ryan tilts her head at the
screen. “I want red instead.”

“Okay.”

Ryan walks back around, takes my hand,
and we sit down on a couch as we wait for him to do his job. “Sorry
about that,” she says softly. “He's a huge flirt, and I've always
flirted back.”

“It's fine. What are you
getting?”

“A heart. I fell in love with how it
looked,” is her only explanation.

Before I can question her further, a
girl comes from the back, plopping into the seat that Pete vacated.
The hum of the needles is threatening to make me sick, and I don't
understand how just the sound doesn't bother her. Pete returns and
calls us back. We pass a burly, shirtless man, who is getting work
on his arm, a woman in her thirties getting something on her foot,
and another girl getting someone on her lower back. Pete leads us
to the very back. I watch and listen as Pete tells Ryan to lay down
on the table and lift her shirt. He tells me where I can sit, so I
take a seat.