Cowboy Husband
Page 23
Ram texts me back. I turn off my phone without even looking at it. I have to get away. I have to leave this place.
I get home and change into a pair of shorts and a tank top. The plan is to lounge around the apartment, binge-watch Stranger Things, and eat the carton of double fudge ice cream I bought on my way home. No thinking of Ram or that dumb bitch I’ll have to see every day when I go to work. What a fucking nightmare. Every time I see her, I’ll picture them together. It will drive me insane.
Hercules, aware of my current mood, won’t let me out if his sight. He stays at my heel as I grab a big serving spoon and plop down on the couch. No bowl for me. I plan to eat this entire lactose bomb out of the container. This might be the one and only perk of being an adult. There’s no one around to tell me I can’t, and no one to judge me for doing it.
I’ve settled into a comfy position on the couch. Hercules is cuddled up next to me. I’m on the third episode and things on the show are getting crazy and my brain has finally allowed me a moment’s peace. All I’m thinking about is the show.
Then the doorbell rings.
My heart leaps into my throat. Oh God, what if that’s Ram? I don’t want to see him or talk to him. Please go away.
I stand up and watch the door, thankful that I locked it. He must’ve seen my car, so he knows I’m home. I just hope he gets the hint and goes away.
The doorbell rings again. I take a steadying breath. Fuck. A few seconds later, I open it.
“Evan?” I say, surprised and a little disappointed. Though I was sure I didn’t want to see Ram, I guess a little part of me did. “What the fuck do you want?”
He looks terrible. He was never really all that handsome; he was too pale, a good three inches shorter than me, and a little on the skinny side. It was never his looks and body that drew me to him. He was a nice guy—or so I thought—and I’d never dated the ‘nice guy’ accountant before. I’d always been attracted to the bad boys. The ones who work with their hands and don’t mind getting dirty. The manly-types. Since I hadn’t had great luck in the past with the bad boys, I decided to give Evan a shot. That didn’t turn out so great. I’m starting to wonder if maybe it’s me. Maybe I just don’t have good luck with men.
“Can we talk?” he says.
I should tell him to go fuck himself. I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. If he didn’t look so miserable, I would. Beneath his eyes are heavy, bruised-looking circles. He’s lost weight, his hair looks a bit thinner, and he looks like he’s aged years in a matter of weeks since I saw him at the mall. I guess I didn’t really bother to see how he looked then either. I was too busy paying attention to his pregnant girlfriend.
I sigh and open the door. When he steps in, I close it behind him.
“Hey Hercules,” he says to my dog in that high-pitched way people talk to animals. Hercules is not interested. He looks once at Evan in curiosity, then returns to his sleeping position on the couch.
“What’s this about, Evan?” I say, letting my annoyance color my voice.
“Can we sit?” he asks.
I motion to the couch. He sits on one side. I make sure Hercules is between us when I sit on the other. God, how could I ever have been with this guy? After being with Ram, it’s impossible to be attracted to anyone else. Has Ram ruined me? Will I ever be able to find anyone else who even compares? The thought makes me nervous.
“I’m so sorry for what I did to you,” he says, shaking me out of my reverie. I just stare at him, not knowing what to say to that. “I made such a huge mistake leaving you. You were the perfect girl, and I was so insecure around you. You’re so beautiful and sexy, and I was scared to death that you would realize that you were too good for me and would walk out the door. So when Shelly approached me, I just …”
Her name is Shelly? That’s about all I get from that whole line of bullshit he spills on me.
“I just wanted the attention. It wasn’t supposed to be anything more,” he says.
Why am I still sitting here? Why am I listening to this? I must be a glutton for punishment because I remain frozen on the couch.
“I guess it’s too bad she’s pregnant. Now you’re stuck with her,” I say, surprised at how cold I sound.
His mouth hangs open. I guess he didn’t realize I was aware of that. He shakes off the dumb expression from his face and straightens up.
“I’ll take care of the child. I’m not a dead-beat. But I can’t be with Shelly. I don’t love her. I love you. I need you back, Cadie.”
He starts to grovel and it makes me sick. I bite back all the venomous words I want to spit at him.
“After the way you betrayed me, there’s no way I would ever take you back,” I say in a matter-of-fact tone that leaves no room for argument.
“Oh … I thought after you sent those sexy pics, there might still be a chance for us. I look at them every day.”
“That was a mistake,” I tell him. “I shouldn’t have done that. I was drunk.”
A tear slips down his cheek. He hurries to wipe it away. He’s actually crying? If he wasn’t such a douchebag, I would feel sorry for him. Actually, I do feel sorry for him, douchebag and all. I know what it’s like to care deeply for someone who doesn’t return your feelings. I don’t know how Ram really feels about me, but it’s probably not what I’m feeling for him. And that sucks. It sucks that I feel anything at all because we can’t be together. Not now. Not after what happened today.
Does it make me a terrible person that I want Evan to hold me just so I have someone else as pathetic as I am to commiserate?
“Can I get a glass of water?” he asks.
I nod. He knows where everything is. He used to live here, after all.
While he’s busy doing that, I turn on my phone. There’s a ton of missed texts and calls from Ram. I’ll deal with those later. I find Gina’s number and send her a quick text.
Me: Get over here ASAP. Evan is at my apartment crying and wanting to get back together. WTF should I do?
Evan gets his water and settles back down on the couch. I tuck my phone under my leg.
“So, are you seeing someone?” he asks in such a sad, pitiful voice that I cringe.
“No,” I say, because I’m not sure what’s happening between Ram and me. Whatever is going on might all be in my head.
The doorbell rings. Gina! Thank God she lives nearby.
I jump up and answer the door, but it’s not Gina standing in my doorway.
“Ram, what are you doing here?” I ask as he walks in.
“I’ve been trying to reach you. Congratulations on the part! I want to take you out and celebrate.” He pulls me into his arms and gives me a long, passionate kiss right in front of Evan. I go stiff in his arms. As much as I would’ve loved for Evan to witness this fifteen minutes ago, I don’t want him to see it now. Not when he’s already at an all-time low. “What’s wrong?” Ram says when I don’t kiss him back.
That’s when he sees Evan who is now standing and looking stricken. His mouth is hanging open, eyes wide and full of pain. I want to yell at him to stop looking at me like that, like I’m some horrible monster who stomped on his heart. At least I’m not the one who cheated.
“I thought you said you weren’t dating anyone,” Evan says, his tone still sad but with an edge of accusation at the end.
I step out of Ram’s embrace. “I’m not. We’re just friends.”
Ram’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say anything to counter what I’ve said. We’ve never made anything official, not even close. I don’t even know how he feels about me.
“Friends don’t usually kiss like that,” Evan says.
“It’s complicated,” I say.
“I guess it is complicated, isn’t it?” Ram says. He sounds pissed, and I tense up, not liking the direction this whole thing is turning. “I mean, I have a lot a friends, but I don’t kiss them. Or fuck them, for that matter. I guess that makes us friends with benefits.”
My mouth drops open
and I just stare at him. Where is this coming from, and why the hell would he say that right in front of Evan? I could slap him right now.
Evan looks like he’s about to puke. He holds his stomach and what little color he had left in his pallid skin has gone ghost-white.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” he says. “I was always afraid you would leave me for an action hero.”
I look at Evan then at Ram, who isn’t moving. In fact, I’m not sure he’s even breathing. He really does look like an action hero. The two men are polar opposite. Ram looks like a Norse god, while Evan looks like he belongs back in the shire with the rest of the Baggins clan.
“Except I didn’t leave,” I say.
“I’ll let you two love-birds hash things out,” Ram says. He starts to leave, but Evan speaks up.
“I was just going. I’m sorry, Cadie,” he says. “I fucked up.”
I don’t say anything. Neither does Ram. Neither of us says anything for an entire minute after Evan leaves. It feels like forever.
Finally, Ram says. “So that’s the guy you’ve been using me to get over?”
His lips curl with disgust, and the words come out like a curse.
He knew. Of course he knew. I’m sure that’s why some of the women he encounters want to hook up with the Bed Shaker. Like they say, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. But it stopped being about Evan a long time ago. Before Ram and I ever slept together.
“I didn’t sleep with you to get over Evan. It wasn’t like that.”
He puts his hands over his face. His words are muffled when he says, “Please don’t say his name around me.”
“Are you actually mad at me right now?” I say, my words laced with poison. “It’s not like we’re a couple. We just sleep together. We’re nothing.”
His expression shifts into pained grimace. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever let come into my house, yet we’re nothing? I spend all my free time with you, and you call us nothing?”
My stomach twists and I feel hollowed out. I had no idea he thought of us as something more.
“But …” I start to say. The rest of my words get caught in my throat.
“But what?” he snaps.
I startle at the harshness of his tone. I’ve hurt him. That’s not pure anger I see in his twisted expression. That’s pain.
I almost give in and tell him everything. I almost tell him I want to be more, that I’ve never felt this way about anyone, that I might … I might even love him. But then I think of that tiny bitch from my audition. I’m going to have to see her every day and know that she’s been with him too. It makes everything he and I have shared in the last few weeks feel less special. I’m just one of the many women in his little black book.
I square my shoulders. “Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” he demands.
I stand my ground. “It is nothing. We’re nothing.”
His shoulders sag and he looks as stricken as Evan had after witnessing our kiss. “Bullshit,” he says. “You care about me. I know you do. Something happened.” He reaches out and takes my chin, lifting it so I have no choice but to look at him. Tears start to fall despite my efforts to keep them back. He wipes them away with his thumb. The gesture is so sweet, so tender, that I begin to cry harder. His face shifts again and now he looks afraid. “Tell me what happened.”
I feel stupid for even saying anything because Ram and I are not exclusive. It’s dumb for me to even be upset, but I can’t help the way I feel.
“I met one of the women you’ve slept with. Her name is Mara. She’s in the same dance company as me. We’ll be working side by side.” I slide him a glare. “She says she can’t wait to hook up with you again, by the way.”
God, I sound so jealous and ridiculous. I hate myself right now.
Ram looks confused. “I have no idea who that is.”
“Maybe you just don’t remember.”
He gives the glare right back to me. “I’m not a whore, Cadie. I know the names and faces of the women I’ve slept with. I have a reputation, yes, and like most people with those kinds of reputations, they get exaggerated. I guarantee I haven’t slept with as many women as you think I have, and I definitely haven’t slept with anyone named Mara. She sounds like a jealous, conniving bitch who’s trying to rattle you. Clearly it’s working.”
My stomach hurts. I want so badly for his words to be true.
“Have you slept with anyone since you’ve been with me?” I ask. I’m terrified of the answer, but I need to know.
“No,” he says without hesitation. “No fucking way. I haven’t even been able to think about other women since you came into my life.”
With my history with liars, I shouldn’t believe him. But I do.
He swallows hard. A muscle in his jaw ripples. “Have you?”
I look at him like it’s the most absurd question he could possible ask. “No, of course not.”
He lets out a long sigh and his whole body loses its rigid edges.
“That kind of makes us exclusive, doesn’t it?” he asks shyly. It’s kind of adorable. He even blushes.
“Is that what you want?” I ask.
“Yeah, I do. What about you?”
It’s time to let down my guard. He has a past that I’m not entirely comfortable with, but I won’t let it dictate my future. A future I want him to be a part of.
“More than anything,” I say.
12
Ram
Cadie is mine. All mine. Everything feels lighter somehow. All this worry about her fretting over some other guy is gone. The worry that she wasn’t as into me as I am into her, gone. Now it’s us, together, and I’m looking forward to our future as a couple. I don’t want anyone else. I have no interest in fucking anyone else or getting better at it. All I want is to get better at fucking her, and only her.
“I love you,” I blurt out like an idiot.
I shouldn’t have said that. It’s too soon. It’ll scare her away. She’ll think I’m moving too fast.
She surprises me by saying, “I love you too.” No hesitation, no reluctance. Her words are plain as day and full of emotion. I scoop her up into my arms. I need her right now. I need her so fucking bad.
I don’t take her to the bed because I know that’s the bed they shared, and though I know he’s not a threat, I don’t like the idea of it. I carry her to the couch. The dog jumps up and scrambles away.
This isn’t some gentle, romantic session. No, this is something else. This is animalistic. It’s us taking out all of our issues, expelling our demons. It’s getting rid of everything we have pent up inside. We strip off each other’s clothes in a frenzy. My mouth finds her naked breast and my lips clamp down around her nipple.
“Yes,” she cries, her head falling back as I devour the other breast.
When I let go of her, she drops to her knees in front of me, worshipping my cock. Her long, soft tongue traces a wet line from my balls and up my shaft to the head, where she dips the tip of her tongue into the slit.
She looks sexy doing it. I watch her every move as she opens her mouth wide and swallows my length deep into her throat. I groan, and pull my fingers through her hair. She tries to take it all, but it’s impossible. A valiant effort, though. She pulls back then dives right back in for more, causing wave after wave of pleasure. I hold the back of her head steady and slowly fuck her silky mouth. With one hand she plays with my balls, kneading the skin, rolling them between her fingers. With her other hand, she strokes the base of my cock.
She brings me to the edge and I pull out of her mouth before I can tip over the point of no return.
I pull her up into my arms and kiss her. She looks surprised.
“What?” I say, breaking the kiss.
“Um, I didn’t think guys liked to kiss after …” She nods down at my dick.
I smile at her shyness of saying certain words. “When are you going to learn I’m not like most guys?”
I kiss her again, sliding my tongue into her mouth, letting her know that when it comes to being with her, nothing that could bring us pleasure is off limits. We are trailblazers and our bodies are uncharted territory for both of us, wide-open spaces in need of exploring.
“I need you so bad,” I tell her, my breath heavy with lust.
“Then take me,” she insists.
I spin her around so fast she lets out a startled laugh.
“Oh!” she says when I bend her over the arm of the couch so her delectable ass is up in the air. Slowly, I enter her from behind. “Oh, fuck.” Her voice gets deeper and then there are no more words, just sounds.
She rolls her hips. The smooth, fluid motion reminds me of the way she dances. I slow my thrusts to watch the show, hypnotized by her the same way I was when I watched her on stage. We find a beautiful rhythm together. The muscles flexing in her back when she moves, the musical sound of her voice as she moans, these things mesmerize me.
“Ram,” she says.
She’s either saying my name or making a demand. I respond by pushing harder into her. Her body rewards me by squeezing my cock.
I want to see her face. I want to feel her under me. I pull out. Her disappointment is almost comical.
“It’s okay, baby. It’ll only take a second,” I assure her.
I’m not happy about leaving the warmth and comfort of her body either. We fit together too perfectly to ever be apart—in more ways than one.
Once she’s on her back on the couch, and I slide back into her, we both sigh in relief. We look into each other’s eyes. I kiss the tip of her nose. If there was any doubt of her feelings about me before, there isn’t anymore. Every ounce of emotion is written all over her face. I have no doubt that this woman loves me and I love her.
Her fingers grip my back, nails digging into my flesh. I thrust faster. Her eyelids flutter. I push harder, never letting my gaze travel further than her face. I want to watch the moment it happens, the moment I push her to the brink.