Chapter 16: Déjà vu

Ash is asleep on Ryan. No, both of them are asleep on my L-shaped couch. After dinner, wewatched a movie together. The only kind of movie Ash enjoys—'Superman.' I had not quite noticed that they had fallen asleep until I was nearly toward the end of the movie. Sighing, I shuffle to my feet. It is a couple of minutes past twelve. How did I not notice the time pass by so quickly? I can't send Ryan back home at this hour. I nibble on my lower lip nervously as I approach the pair. Ryan's head is dropped back on the couch and his expression is smoothened in a somewhat peaceful manner. Seeing him this way feels somewhat rare and intimate. It rouses a deep sense of déjà vu, and my stomach squeezes as memories from that morning three years ago assault me. He looked this peaceful that day as well. I press my hand against my chest to find it beating hard and fast. I drop my hand and shake my head before vile thoughts can slip in. He can have the couch. Or the guest room. Or he could stay with Ash in my— Hell no. Chiding myself inwardly, I lean forward, bending slightly to take Ash who is sprawled atop his chest. I pause as a soft sigh escapes Ryan's lips. He turns slightly, facing the back of the couch, and his hair falls over his side profile, hiding the view from me. I have no fucking idea why my hand is moving to his face. I'm thinking one thing and doing another. I should take Ash to his room, but my fingers are on Ryan's face, tucking his hair behind his ear. I should stop, but my body won't obey the simple commands I give to it. Rather, my thumb caresses his stubbled cheek, and I feel him relax into my touch. I stroke his cheek again and a small sound escapes him. It makes me feel...good, for the lack of better word. Something inside me cracks open and something warm flows through that tiny crack. I dare another movement, letting my fingers trail further to his high cheek bone, committing the shape and feel of it to memory. His full eyebrows are smooth under my fingertips and I draw a lines on them, arranging it. His thick eyelash suddenly move and I jerk backward so quickly, I nearly stumble. He raises his head and looks in my drection, blue eyes slightly glazed. "Amber," he murmurs and the drop in the rich timbre of his voice has my insides squeezing again. I swallow. Does he know I touched him? What the fuck was I doing touching him?! For Ash, I had said, and one night in already has me touching him. "I'm sorry. I dozed," he said, shifting Ash carefully from his chest into his arms. "I'll head back." "It's after midnight. You can..." My voice comes out shaky and squeaky and I have to swallow twice before I speak steadily. "You can have the guest room. Though it's a little dusty," I say, inching forward to take Ash from him. Our fingers touch and my heart slams hard into my chest, causing me to flinch. And of course, he misreads it. If the pull down of his lips into a frown is any indication. I wonder what he must think now. Perhaps, he'll think this time that I find him repulsive. There are times I wish I didn't feel this attracted to him. There are times I wish I could send him off with my mean words. Perhaps, it would help put a stop these things I feel inside. I'm letting him come into my home is for Ash, period, and it will remain that way. I can't get distracted by his pretty face and broad shoulders, or his muscled biceps and the strong tan color of his throat. Or his stunning eyes and beautifully sculpted features. His brother looked just as nice and he cheated on me. Lied to me. Something within me says Ryan is not Grant. Something wants me to believe that he is different in everyway, but I find that hard to believe. An apple doesn't fall too far from its already fallen siblings. The moment I left LA, I dedicated my life and time to Ash and the bakery. I've had men try to woo me over the counter in my bakery. I've had coffee dates and dinner dates, but it never went past any of that. I told myself that I don't need a man to make me happy and then break my heart again. And it had been fine before he showed up and now, a day doesn't pass without me thinking about a damn wedding dress. Here I am, getting ahead of myself. There's no way he'll want a relationship with me. Not after that lie about Ash. I wonder if he has forgiven me for it. I would like to believe that he has, but every time Ash calls him Ryan, I see the hurt flash in his eyes. The pain of a time lost. "I'll...uh... I need a shower. I'll take the guest room. Thank you," Ryan says quietly as I hold Ash against my chest. "Come on," I say to him without looking back. I try to ignore the weight of his stare that rests on my back, but I can't seem to. I stop before my room and place my hand on the door knob to open the door, but Ryan's hand lands on the doorknob at the same time. More accurately, it lands on mine. I glance up, meeting his intense gaze that's already me. My mouth goes dry and I feel the sudden urge to lick my bottom lip. I obey this urge and Ryan's gaze follows the movement. He turns away sharply, removing his hand from mine. "I thought I'd get the door, but you've already got it covered. Thank you for dinner. It was...nice." I blink at the barrage of sentences and while I am still processing his words, he says, "Goodnight, Amber," and stalks off sharply toward the last door in the hallway, like he already knew where the guest room is.