Falling For Ryan: Part One Read online

  “Ryan,” Molly sobs as I lift her tiny frame off the ground and into a hug. She shakes from both the cold and the sobs wracking her body.

  Tucking her into my side, I grab her bags and let us in. On the ground floor, my townhouse has a large room with French doors looking out to the courtyard garden, and a bathroom. I thought it would make an excellent gym. The middle floor is an open-plan kitchen, living, and dining room with a small cloakroom, and the top floor has three bedrooms, one being the master with ensuite and the other a large family bathroom.

  I love it.

  From the moment I looked at the plans, I just knew it was going to be my little piece of heaven, and I’m still in awe that I was able to buy this place. I’ll be forever grateful for the generous gift from Susan and Pete. Nothing will ever make up for what we all lost, but thanks to them, I’ve been able to attempt to move on with my life.

  Currently, there are boxes everywhere. I haven’t had much time to unpack with everything I had to do at school to end the year, but my first holiday job is to get this place sorted and looking like a home.

  Anger fills my veins as I lead us up to the living room. “It’s going to be okay. Let’s get you warm and dry and you can tell me what the fucker did.” My fists clench. I want to beat the shit out of him for treating her so badly for so long.

  “How do you know he’s done anything?” Molly asks in a quiet voice.

  “I can read you like a book, Molly Carter. Plus, he’s a massive dickhead. I think I’ve mentioned that before. Only Max can make you feel this bad about yourself.”

  “Why was I so fucking stupid? I had my doubts, everyone had their doubts, but he convinced me that it was what he wanted. I’m not really surprised, but what does shock me is how much it hurts.”

  “Come on, get your arse upstairs and in the shower. I’ll find you a t-shirt to wear.”

  As I root through a suitcase in one of the spare bedrooms, the door to my ensuite shuts. I pull out my Oxford Brookes polo and leave it on my bed. I hope my choice will make her smile, remembering happier times.

  I knock lightly on the door. “Have you got everything you need?”

  There’s silence for a few seconds, and I can imagine her checking out all the products in the shower, realising they’re all for men. Eventually, I hear a quiet “Yes” from the other side of the door.

  “Okay, I’ll see you downstairs when you’re done. Take your time.”

  I gather up her wet clothes and take them with me. They may be soaked, but I can still smell her vanilla scent on them. It makes me feel oddly warm inside. She’s been my rock for the past six months. I don’t know what I would have done without her.

  As I put everything in the washing machine, I spot her bra poking out of the pile. “What the fuck do I do with this?” I mutter to myself. Something in me wonders if it needs some kind of special cycle in the machine, but fuck if I know. I decide to shove it all in and just put it on a cool, quick wash.

  That shouldn’t do it much damage, right?

  Chapter Two

  Molly

  I stand in the giant, walk-in shower for a good twenty minutes, letting the hot water from the rainfall showerhead soothe my aching muscles.

  I could get used to this.

  Once I’m finished, I head back into the bedroom and see Ryan’s white Oxford Brookes University t-shirt on his bed. I smile for the first time in what feels like forever and pull it over my head. He was wearing this the first night we all met in the student union.

  Ryan’s also placed my handbag on the bed, obviously knowing from the size of it that there must be something in there I could use, and he would be right. I pull out a hairbrush and try to do something with my hair after not finding any conditioner in the shower. I spritz my favourite perfume and pull on a pair of the knickers I grabbed earlier, feeling very grateful that I don’t have to go commando under his t-shirt.

  Once I feel almost human again, I head downstairs to where I know there’s a big glass of wine waiting for me.

  I walk into the open plan living area to find Ryan leaning his hip against the kitchen worktop with his feet crossed, staring closely at his phone. He’s changed since he got in and is now wearing long, slouchy navy shorts that hang low on his hips and a fitted white t-shirt that shows off his wide shoulders, slim waist, and muscled chest and arms to perfection. His dirty blonde hair is a mess, as if he’s spent the whole time I was in the shower running his hands through it. I’ve always found Ryan attractive—well, who wouldn’t? He’s stunning. And his Scouse accent…It’s diluted since he first moved to Oxford, but it isn’t any less sexy. But he’s not my type; I tend to go for slimmer guys with less muscle, although I still remember trying to hit on him the night we met. I kept trying and trying, making a total fool of myself. I was too drunk to realise he was paying no attention to me but was besotted with my best friend. Good times.

  His head comes up as I move towards him and his eyes travel slowly from the top of my head to my toes and back again while his teeth attack his bottom lip.

  “Everything all right?” I ask, trying not to smirk.

  “Um…yeah…sorry, it’s just that it’s…um…it’s been a while, you know,” he stutters as his cheeks turn a little pink.

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” I mumble to myself more than him. “Plus, I dare any man not to check out my legs.” I’m hoping to lighten the mood; I don’t want him to be embarrassed. We both know we can never go there, but a harmless bit of looking is fine.

  Ryan mutters something under his breath as he turns around to grab my wine.

  “What was that?”

  “Fuck…uh...the bloody woman next door is staring again. Look.” He gestures to the kitchen window and I just see a flash of red hair as she scarpers.

  “She’s probably just enjoying her few seconds of man-candy.”

  He shudders before turning back to me. “Your clothes are on a quick wash. They’ll be done soon and we can get them drying. I’m guessing they’re the only clothes you have with you?”

  I follow Ryan into the living room and curl myself up in the middle of his corner sofa with my wine, making myself comfortable.

  “All my stuff is in the flat.”

  “What happened tonight?” Ryan asks. “Fuck, he wasn’t with someone else, was he?”

  “It’s worse than that.” My stomach turns over as I picture it again. Watching Ryan’s eyebrows rise in question, I continue. “There was one blonde bimbo riding his cock and another sat on his face.”

  “I’m going to rip his fucking head off. How could he do that to you? And in your fucking bed? He must have known you were going to be home soon. Fuck, I’m going to fucking kill him. I always told you he wasn’t good enough for you. I told you this would happen and that you would get hurt.”

  He paces back and forth in front of me, his hands alternating between running through his hair and clenching into fists at his sides. The muscles in his neck pulse with anger.

  I can’t help but think Max should be watching his back, because it’s going to fucking hurt when Ryan gets his hands on him.

  “What did you do?” he asks through gritted teeth.

  “I left.”

  Draining his can of beer, he’s silent before going to get a second.

  “Can I have a refill, too?” I ask, realising I’ve drunk my way through my glass telling that story.

  Ryan comes back with the bottle and fills me up before placing it on the coffee table and opening his beer. “So, what are you going to do? I guess he doesn’t know he’s been caught?”

  “I have no idea. All I can think about is how stupid I am. Oh, and how when I decide where I’m going to live, I want a shower like yours.”

  Ryan doesn’t look amused by my comment; his eyes urge me to continue.

  “You can stop worrying. I’m not going back to him. I never should have moved in with him in the first place.”

  “You and Max have never had the type of relationship th
at would end up being something serious, and you knew it; you were just too scared to get out of it. You don’t go from fucking about with Max while screwing others to living together and being in a committed relationship.”

  “All you had to say was ‘I told you so’. I don’t need a big lecture,” I snap, tears pricking my eyes. Ryan pulls me into his chest, rubbing my back.

  “Shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he whispers in my ear.

  My tears eventually cease and I lift my head off Ryan’s chest. Looking up into his blue eyes, all I see is compassion. There’s no pity at all, which makes my heart a little happier.

  I throw my arms around his shoulders and hug him tight. This was why I came here tonight—for my best friend, who will tell me exactly what I need to hear and exactly what I don’t want to hear, to pull me out of the rut I have found myself in.

  Ryan

  “I hate to break the moment, but I really have to wee,” I say into Molly’s hair. I feel her shake her head against my neck and it makes me laugh. Standing with her in my arms, I place her back on the sofa before heading out of the room.

  When I come back down, I find her pulling her clothes out of the washing machine. “You washed my black jeans with my white top and underwear; how is it possible that you’ve been living on your own for years, yet you still do that?” She has a deadly serious look on her face, making me laugh.

  “Sorry. I was more concerned with what I was meant to do with your bra than about separating the colours. It’s like an alien creature to me…is it meant to have its own cycle? Extra special treatment or something?” I comment, trying to sound as serious as she had.

  It’s her turn to start laughing. It warms my heart to see her happiness after all the misery we’ve been through. She actually laughs so hard that she has to hold on to the worktop for support.

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  I just shrug my shoulder and head back in to the living room, saying over my shoulder, “It’s a drier as well, but I’ll let you handle that.”

  “Thank you. It’s probably safer; I need something to wear tomorrow and I’d prefer if it didn’t fit a doll,” she smiles.

  Following me, she helps herself to my iPad and unlocks it.

  “What are you doing?” I ask with a laugh as she settles herself at the coffee table.

  “I want to start looking for a place to live. I don’t want to cramp your style. You’ve only just moved in; you don’t need me in the way.”

  The thought of her moving somewhere new on her own doesn’t sit well with me. I know she hates solitude and would rather live with someone—which is how she ended up living with dickhead Max, after all.

  I make a snap decision, but I know it’s the right one.

  “Molly…”

  “Yeah,” she says without looking up from the screen.

  “Molly,” I try again to make her look up at me. It works this time, and her eyes eventually meet mine.

  “Move in here, with me. You can have the room and bathroom downstairs. You’d have your own space, and your snoring won’t keep me awake at night from two floors away.” Her eyes widen in shock as she stares at me, processing my words.

  “Um…”

  I sit and wait. The house is so quiet, I can almost hear the cogs turning in her brain as she contemplates what to say next and whether to take me up on my offer. Eventually, I get bored of waiting.

  “This house is too big for me, really. It’s so quiet here. The rent will be cheaper than a place of your own, and I’ll let you decorate your room however you want.” God, I hope she won’t take me up on that and paint it Barbie pink or anything crazy. She’s still silent. “Molly, tell me what you’re thinking.”

  All of a sudden, she’s off the floor and practically running for the stairs.

  “Shit!” I get up and run after her. “Molly, come back! You can’t leave the house wearing that. Molly!” I shout as I chase her down the stairs.

  When I reach the bottom, I realise she has no intention of leaving.

  She’s stood amongst all the boxes and crap in the downstairs room I’ve just offered her. She looks back at me, tears in her eyes. Great, I’ve made her cry again.

  “Are you sure? This was going to be your gym. I don’t want to take that away from you. You bought this house for peace and quiet. It won’t be so peaceful with me around, and definitely not quiet. Do you really mean it?”

  “If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have asked. I have two more spare rooms upstairs that could be my gym. What do you want? What would make you happy, Molly Carter?”

  I watch her closely as she studies her hands and nails, trying to work out what she wants. She opens her mouth to speak and, when it comes out, it’s so quiet I almost miss it. “I want this.”

  “I’m sorry, Molly, you’ll have to speak up. What did you say?”

  This time, she looks up. The tears are still in her eyes, but I can tell the decision has been made. “I want this. I want to move in.” With that, she launches herself at me from across the room with such force that I have to take a step back to stop us toppling over when I catch her.

  “Thank you so much, Ry. You have no idea how happy this makes me. I’ll be the best housemate ever, I promise. This is it…a new start for me from this day forward. I’m going to do things for me, because I want to, not because anyone else wants or expects me to.”

  We make our way back upstairs, and I start thinking of all the things we need to do to get us both properly moved in. “When do you want to collect your stuff from the flat?” It should be done as soon as possible so she can put Max behind her.

  “Well, he’s going out for his mate’s birthday tomorrow night. Usually, they’re out all night, so I could go then.”

  “I’m not letting you go alone. Firstly, you’ll have to do loads of trips in that roller skate of a car you have, and secondly, just no. I’m coming with you.”

  “Ryan, you don’t have to do that. You’ve already done more than I could ask of you.”

  “Okay, how about…Shut up; this isn’t up for discussion. What time is he going out, and what time should we head over?”

  “You know you’re a stubborn arse, right?”

  Laughing, I shrug my shoulders at her in response.

  “If we go over for seven, he should be well gone by then. That will give us plenty of time to make sure I have everything.”

  We return to the sofa and Molly pulls the blanket over our legs, settling back into the cushions. “How is it that you’ve hardly unpacked anything yet, but you have a blanket over the back of your sofa?”

  Usually, I would agree with her. It is unusual, but it was the first thing Hannah and I bought after we moved in together. We had many amazing nights together sat under this thing, and it might make me sound like a pussy, but I wanted it here with me in my new house. I wanted a little bit of her with me.

  “I can tell by that look on your face. It’s Hannah’s, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is, but tonight, we’re not talking about all that. We’re being happy and celebrating you moving in.”

  “That sounds like a plan, Mr Evans. Chuck the remote over; we need music if we’re celebrating.”

  With that, the sounds of old school hip-hop and R&B fill the room and I groan.

  “What?” Molly asks, an innocent look on her face.

  “I’d forgotten about your love of this ‘music’. Maybe I should have considered that before asking you to move in.”

  But Molly is already up, dancing around the room with the last of her wine.

  In this moment, she looks happy and carefree like all twenty-four-year-olds should. I want her to be like this more. She deserves to be like this more. Hell, we both do after the grief we’ve been battling for almost six months.

  Pain rips through me at the thought of it being that long already. Everything has changed so much and Hannah hasn’t been here to experience any of it.

  As one song drifts
into another, I notice the beat of the songs get more and more sexy—as do Molly’s dance moves. She’s grinding her hips around and around. I can’t help but notice how fucking sexy she is. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen any action and, although my brain knows nothing will ever happen between us, apparently my dick didn’t get the message. Thank god for the blanket.

  A little bit of guilt washes through me, but I manage to push it to one side.

  “Come on, Ry, dance with me,” she slurs and gives me her ‘come hither’ look. Fuck, don’t do that.

  “No, you’re okay. I’m fine here, watching.”

  As the next song comes on, she waves her hands above her head, making my t-shirt rise, revealing the bottom of red lacy knickers that are cut high across her arse—her tight, perky arse.

  After another couple of songs with me looking in any direction other than Molly, she starts to stumble around to the point where I think she’s going to be on that pretty little arse pretty soon.

  “Molly, I think it’s time you sat down before you fall down.”

  “Oooohhhh cooome on…dooon’t be a spoil spoort,” she slurs as she trips over the coffee table and ends up lying face-down on the sofa.

  All of a sudden, she flips herself over with a pout, mumbling about how she can’t remember when she last had so much fun, got drunk and danced the night away.

  I wasn’t going to ruin it by telling her she was only dancing for about thirty minutes, because I can’t remember the last time I saw her smile like this.

  Eventually, she stops chatting crap and her breathing evens out. I look at the clock and realise it’s nearly four in the morning; no wonder she’s asleep. I quietly tidy up our mess before scooping her up in my arms and carrying her to my bedroom. Currently, this is the only bed in the house, so until we go shopping, she’ll be here with me. I’m not letting her have a bad night’s sleep on the sofa.