“But we didn’t,” Ryan said, his voice softening. “We never did get caught, did we? We were good together.”
The words hung in the air between them, loaded with meaning. Laura felt her heart skip a beat, and she quickly changed the subject.
As they finished their meal, Ryan suggested they take a walk They strolled through the bustling streets, their hands occasionally brushing. Each time it happened, Laura felt a jolt of electricity.
They ended up at an elite art gallery, where Пyan guided her through the exhibits, sharing his knowledge and appreciation for the pieces on display. Laura was impressed by his understanding of art, a side of him she’d never fully known before.
“I didn’t realize you were such an art aficionado,” she said, studying a particularly striking abstract painting.
Ryan shrugged modestly. “I’ve developed an interest over the years. There’s something about art that speaks to the soul, don’t you think?”
Laura nodded, finding herself drawn into a discussion about the emotional impact of different artistic styles. As they talked, she realized how much she’d missed this – intellectual conversations, shared interests, the spark of connection with someone who truly
understood her.
ROPTER EIGAL –
22
The afternoon slipped away as they explored the gallery, lost in conversation and the beauty of the art around them. As closing time. approached, Ryan turned to her with a hint of reluctance in his eyes.
“I don’t want this day to end,” he admitted. “Would you like to come back to my place for a drink? I have a pretty impressive view of the city from my penthouse.”
Laura knew she should say no. She was married, after all. But the thought of returning to her lonely hotel room was unbearable. And hadn’t she come to New York to escape, to find herself again?
“I’d love to,” she heard herself say, pushing away the nagging voice of conscience.
Ryan’s penthouse was everything Laura had imagined and more. Floor–to–ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the glittering city below. As Ryan poured them each a glass of wine, Laura wandered to the window, mesmerized by the sight.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.
“Yes, it is,” Ryan said softly, and when she turned, she found him looking not at the view, but at her.
He handed her a glass of wine, their fingers brushing. Laura felt her pulse quicken as Ryan stepped closer, his presence intoxicating.
“Laura,” he said, his voice low and intense, “I can’t stop thinking about you. About us. About what we had, and what we could have again.”
Laura’s breath hitched, her heart pounding like a caged bird. She knew she should step back, should confess about Leon, should s
Islam the brakes before careening off this cliff.
But as Ryan’s rough palm cupped her flushed cheek, all her noble intentions evaporated like mist. His touch ignited a primal hunger, awakening parts of her she thought long dormant
Their lips crashed together in a kiss that was equal parts nostalgia and electric discovery. Laura’s body sang with recognition, muscle memory kicking in as she pressed herself against his solid frame.
Ryan’s tongue teased the seam of her lips before plunging inside, tasting and claiming. She moaned into his mouth, her fingers raking through his hair as liquid heat pooled low in her belly.
Clothes fell away like autumn leaves as they stumbled towards the bedroom, leaving a trail of discarded garments in their wake.
Later, sprawled across Ryan’s rumpled sheets, Laura’s body hummed with satisfaction even as her mind churned with conflict.
The connection between them crackled like live wire, their chemistry a potent drug she craved with every cell. Ryan’s fingers traced lazy patterns on her sweat–slicked skin, sending aftershocks of pleasure rippling through her.
But as the post–coital haze lifted, the weight of her deception pressed down on her chest. She had crossed a line tonight, one she wasn’t sure she could uncross.
As Ryan’s arm tightened around her waist, Laura closed her eyes and let herself pretend, just for a moment longer, that this was where she belonged.
Laura’s eyes fluttered open, the early morning sunlight filtering through the curtains of Ryan’s penthouse.
For a blissful moment, she forgot about the complexities of her life, basking in the warmth of Ryan’s body pressed against hers. But reality crashed back like a tidal wave, bringing with it a surge of guilt and anxiety.
She gently extricated herself from Ryan’s embrace, careful not to wake him. As she padded to the bathroom, her mind raced. What the hell was she doing?
She was married, for Christ’s sake Granted, her marriage was in shambles, but still. And here she was, playing house with her ex- boyfriend like some lovesick teenager.
Laura splashed cold water on her face, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She barely recognized the woman looking back at her. Where was the responsible, level–headed Laura who always did the right thing? Apparently, she’d left that version of herself back in Stamford
A soft knock on the door startled her. “Laura? You okay in there?” Ryan’s voice was thick with sleep.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she called back, forcing cheerfulness into her tone. “Just freshening up.”
When she emerged from the bathroom, Ryan was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking unfairly handsome with his tousled hair and sleepy eyes. He smiled at her, and Laura felt her heart skip a beat.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he said, reaching for her hand. “Sleep well?”
Laura let him pull her close, fighting the urge to melt into his embrace. “I did, thanks, How about you?”
CHAFTER EIGHT–ON THE CROSSROADS
Ryan’s response was to kiss her, slow and deep. Laura found herself responding despite her inner turmoil, her body betraying her better judgment. When they finally broke apart, both were breathless.
“Laura,” Ryan began, his tone suddenly serious. “I know this might seem crazy, but… I want you to stay. Not just for today, but… permanently.”
Laura’s heart stopped. “What?”
Ryan took a deep breath. “I know we’ve only reconnected for a days, but being with you again it’s made me realize how much I’ve missed you. How much I still love you. I want us to give this another shot.” Panic clawed at Laura’s throat. This was exactly what she’d been afraid of.
13
CHAPTER NINE–ONE MORE DAY
“Ryan, I…” she stammered, searching for the right words. “I’m flattered, really. But I’m not… I’m not ready for a relationship right now. I’m sorry
She saw the disappointment flash across his face, quickly masked by understanding “I get it,” he said softly. “I’m sorry if I’m pushing too hard. I just… I don’t want to lose you again.”
Guilt gnawed at Laura’s insides. She was lying to him, leading him on. She should tell him the truth, about Leon, about everything. But the words stuck in her throat.
“You’re not losing me,” she said instead, forcing a smile. “We’re friends, right? Good friends.”
Ryan nodded, his own smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Right. Friends.” He cleared his throat. “So, uh, since you’re not staying permanently… how about one more day?1 could show you around the city, maybe play a round of golf at my club. What do you say?”
Laura knew she should say no. She should get in her car and drive straight back to Stamford, face the music with Leon. But the thought of returning to that cold, empty house made her chest tighten with dread.
“You know what? That sounds great,” she heard herself say. “Let’s do it.”
An hour later, they were pulling up to Ryan’s exclusive golf club in his sleek sports car. Laura fell out of place in her borrowed polo shirt and khakis, but Ryan assured her she looked perfect.
“Ready to get your ass kicked?” he teased as they approached the first tee.
