What the hell is he doing?
The question seems irrelevant because the moment Ryan met Shay, he knew he would end up with her. The question that rattles in his brain now is more about proximity. Each second passing with Shay in his arms, his heart and mind are in a constant war. It's like she belonged there all along.
By the time they both settle in the small space of his car, and the engine purrs to life, he decides to leave all the doubts back in her apartment and take care of her till she doesn't need him. He shifts his peripheral vision to watch her tiny self drowning in his suit jacket and her hands tugging at the thigh-high slit of her dress to cover her tempting long legs.
Ryan tightens his hold on the steering, willing himself to look away. She keeps leaning against the window, her eyes closed and fingers tightly holding the broken pieces of her lover's souvenir. Her vulnerability is like a knot in his chest, pushing all the reasoning out of the scenario.
Technically she is still a forbidden affair, his dead twin brother's lover, and the girl Aarav had always been possessive about until he died.
Ryan squeezes his eyes and grinds his molars not to let his desires for her take over. He has hardly moved past his breaking resolve when she shifts, and her bare legs are there to tease him again. Ryan curses under his breath and takes the shortcut with less traffic to his apartment. The sooner he is out of this confined box with Shay merely a hand's distance from him, the better. It will save him from the guilt that has started crowding his existence.
Shay straightens by the time the city disappears behind the walls of the parking lot, her eyes fluttering open. She yawns, then finger-combs her hair, looking adorable doing it. Ryan has missed these cute little habits of hers all these years, and now that she is here to throw reminders at his face, he doesn't know how far he can hold off from falling for them all over again.
When she takes a glance at him with her fingers slowly coming to a halt around the ends, he decides it's the right moment to step out of the car. Under no circumstances does he want to make her feel uncomfortable around himself.
He circles the rear of the car and opens the passenger door. Her doe-like chocolate-colored eyes move from his solemn face to his outstretched hand beneath her face. It's the one that doesn't have signs of any violence.
"Come on, Shay," he says softly, quietly.
For a moment, she stares at his hand as if it scares her like she doesn't want to grasp the promises that come with it. He's well-versed in his want to smother her, but his guilt is skin deep. He doesn't show that to her though, not yet. Tonight he wants to make her feel safe and save her from the demons of deep pain, even if for a night.
Shay clasps his fingers, allows him to pull her out of the car, and follows him towards the elevator. He slides a card on the panel inside and hits the loft. It's the first time someone is about to enter into his cold, concrete den, and the fact that it's Shay fills his heart with a warm fuzzy feeling.
She looks so tiny beside him. Her face still carries remnants of the night's cruelty that makes him feel guilty all over again. As they ascend, he reaches out and tucks her against his body with her cheek against his chest. It feels undeniably the most beautiful feeling in the world. It scares him how beautiful it is, but it doesn't stop him from being greedy for it.
"I'm sorry," he whispers against the top of her head. The light scent of her lavender shampoo fills up his nostrils, calming his senses. "I should have been there for you."
"I've missed you, Ry," she says back, and her words tighten his chest. "A lot."
The elevator dings, and she springs away from his hold. It's as if the spell broke, and they are back to being distant again. At least, now he knows she missed him too, but can't seem to put the past behind.
His apartment welcomes them, as cold and lifeless as it is. Except with Shay, it somehow feels homey. He hears a gasp from the girl beside him when they clear the foyer, and he steps aside to reveal the starling view of New York. The apartment isn't so morbid after all. It can still charm the only girl who has ever put her feet inside.
The living room has an open kitchen to the left, a dining area to the right, and a staircase leading to the floor above. The balcony on the second floor overlooks the living room. Located at the top of a forty-story building, the glass in the living room brings the city skyline indoors magnificently. From his bedroom upstairs, the city looks even more dreamy. The mere images of Shay tangled up in his sheets have him smacking his head mentally.
"All these glass windows," she says, pulling his attention out of the gutter.
"I know it's a bit too much." Ryan throws the keys into the bowl and slides his cellphone on the kitchen counter as he leads her inside.
"No, it's beautiful," she mumbles, walking over to the floor-to-ceiling window at the other end, admiring the view of the city beyond. He stands beside her, a good distance away, and for the first time, the sparkling wonder behind the glass feels more than just a privilege.
"I never looked at the city that way, not until now." The words roll out even as he tries to hide how lively his apartment feels with her presence. It feels almost like home. He can feel Shay tensing beside him, and he knows maybe he needs to tone down his affection just a little bit.
They stand in silence for a long minute when his cell phone vibrates on the counter. As much as he wants to shut the world around them, it might be related to business. He peels away to take up the call and regrets not silencing his phone when he had the chance.
While he spends the next few minutes handling some official matters, he also watches her move back into the living room, and her eyes take in the dull gray and black interior. Shay plops down on the couch with her head leaning against the back and legs splayed out. Ryan can hardly focus on the call because from the exhaustion in her eyes to her bare feet, everything about her has his full attention now.
By the time his call finishes, Shay's already passed out in the position he last saw her. Her soft, delicate lips release light puffs of breath, and she looks like a child with her head pulling off the back.
Ryan places a quick order for dinner and walks over to her side. He lifts her like a delicate piece of porcelain, lays her down in a much more comfortable position, and sits on the floor beside her head.
After so many years, he's watching her sleep, and he would be a liar if he denied that he wished to watch her sleeping like that every freaking day. He runs his knuckles lightly over her cheek, barely touching, but stops when they reach her lips. All the memory of them kissing on the dock resurfaces, and he has to pull up an image of his dead twin to block the sinful desire once again.
He leaves her sleeping on the couch to bring a bowl of warm water and a washcloth, along with a blanket to cover her quivering body. Carefully, not to wake her up, he cleans the smudge of her mascara, the lines of dried tears off her face, and then caresses the fading scars on her cheek. When he last saw her this close, they were painfully raw like his.
She releases a moan when he wipes her soft, delicate feet with chipped blue polish on her toes. He can keep making her create those heavenly noises, but they are not helping his case. He throws the washcloth on the ottoman and debates whether to take the suit jacket off for her or not.
After spending two frustrating minutes in apprehension, he finally goes for it. He has put that on Shay impulsively at her apartment, but he knows it must smell like day-old sweat. After all, he has been wearing it for twelve hours straight.
He holds the lapels around her neck and tugs them down her shoulders. She wriggles, lifts her hands, and lets him pull the sleeves off. The sight of her porcelain skin, her exposed collarbones, and the thin straps of her dress barely covering her shoulders are almost too much for him to take. Every living limb in his body wakes up to the sight. And he so desperately wants to feel her skin under his fingertips. If only he could run his knuckles through her pale skin. He suddenly comes back to his senses and jerks away, scrubbing his face, back of his neck, through his hairs to summon all the control he has mastered over the years. He settles for keeping his eyes closed while peeling the jacket off of Shay's sleeping self and only opens them when he has covered her up in his warm blankets.
However, when he turns around to leave, her sweaty fingers wrap around his wrist, and she is staring up at him with her thick eyelashes and messy tangles of her brown hair.
"You don't have to shut your eyes every time we are close, you know." She speaks in a sleepy and muzzy voice. It sounds so perfectly adorable that her words take their sweet time reaching his ears.
Once again, he is tempted to pull her in and take that raw vulnerability away from her features. She has this hard to penetrate mask on when she's out there in the world. But somehow, when they are alone, all her pain is bare for his eyes.
"I shouldn't be touching you while you are asleep." He says. "It was an asshole move, but I didn't want you to sleep covered in my sweat. I had that jacket on for the last twelve hours."
"It wasn't all an asshole move." Shay pulls her fingers off his wrist. "It was sweet. No one has taken care of me like that in a long time."
"No one?" He raises an eyebrow.
She nods slowly.
"But that makes it even more wrong. You're bottling up your emotions, and I'm here waltzing into your grieving territory, pulling down walls I'm not allowed even to touch. Speaking of touch-" Ryan brushes his hair aggressively and then bears deep into her eyes, guilty. "I hope you don't mind me cleaning up your face and your feet. You can use those crocs." He nudges his head towards the set of crocs, his size but better than walking around naked feet.
"Should I mind?" She moves her sleepy eyes back to his face. "I hope you were being a gentleman while doing that."
Ryan scoffs.
"I might've strayed a little in between, but overall I think I behaved." He can't stop the playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
She has no idea how much Ryan can't seem to control his actions around her. Good. She doesn't have to know that.
"So, you did stray then?" She challenges him with her smug face.
He takes a step closer to her, next to her head, and when she looks up at him with those fluttering eyelashes, he once again forgets everything. Her hair falls rebelliously on her face, and Ryan can't summon the strength not to brush them off and tuck them behind her ears.
"You've no idea, Shay." He places a cushion under her head and then reaches the side to turn off the lamp. "Go back to sleep. I will wake you up when dinner is ready."
He retreats into the kitchen to serve himself a glass of whiskey. It's already close to midnight, and there are no signs of sleep or exhaustion in his eyes. If anything, his nerves are at peak right now. He takes a sip of the golden liquid, feeling the burn down his throat, and against his wishes, he stares hard at her small sleeping figure on his couch. The humongous sitting area of his loft is dark, and the overhead lights in the kitchen only offer him enough visual of her.
Ryan: Prepare a termination letter for Mr. Banerjee and look for a new manager.
Ryan types in a quick message to Matt and tosses the phone aside. If he sees the guy once again, he may not be able to hold his anger back.
He moves to the living room and slumps down on the pitch-black couch near the two-story windows. He sets the jack on the ottoman that separates him from Shay and reclines, spreading his legs in a relaxed position.
Swirling the amber liquid in the crystal tumbler, he recalculates his life choices - the ones he has made related to Shay. And the ones he may have to make towards his feelings for her. The relaxation is far-fetched when she is there, perched on his couch just an arm away and ready to tether his self control.
A sudden possessiveness courses through his veins as he takes in the rhythmic rise and fall of her breath, her beautiful face devoid of all the pain and hurt she has been hiding within her grieving heart. He laughs at the hypocrisy of his situation. She is the one who can make him stay, but she is also the one he should never pursue.
What if he does give in to his heart? Will Aarav forgive him? Can they ever move on from their past connection and make a future together?
He will do anything to bring back that sun-kissed smile on her face.
***
AUTHOR'S NOTE
What do you think about this chapter? Do you think Ryan will finally let Shay know about his feelings? Or will he hold back his desires to honor Aarav's memories?
If you are enjoying the story, please add your comments and votes.
Stay safe!