I hug him back and say, "It's fine. You're here. It was perfect." I'm giddy with excitement that he made it at all.
"You're perfect," he says, kissing me.
Allysa brushes past us. "You're perfect," she mimics. "Hey Ryle, guess what?"
Ryle releases me. "What?"
Allysa grabs the trash can and drops it on the counter. "Lily needs to hire more employees."
I laugh at her constant repetition. Ryle squeezes my hand and says, "Sounds like business was good."
I shrug. "I can't complain. I mean . . . I'm no brain surgeon, but I'm pretty good at what I do."
Ryle laughs. "You guys need any help cleaning up?"
Allysa and I put him to work, helping us clean up after the big day. We get everything finished and prepped for tomorrow, and then Marshall arrives just as we're finishing up. He's carrying a bag when he walks inside and drops it on the counter. He begins to pull out huge lumps of some kind of material and tosses them at each of us. I catch mine and unfold it.
It's a onesie.
With kittens all over it.
"Bruins game. Free beer. Suit up, team!"
Allysa groans and says, "Marshall, you made six million dollars this year. Do we really need free beer?"
He shoves a finger against her lips, pushing them in opposite directions. "Shh! Don't speak like a rich girl, Issa. Blasphemy."
She laughs and Marshall grabs the onesie out of her hand. He unzips it and helps her into it. Once we're all suited up, we lock the door and head to the bar.
I've never in my life seen so many men in onesies. Allysa and I are the only women wearing them, but I kind of like that. It's loud. So loud, and each time the Bruins make a good play, Allysa and I have to cover our ears from the screams. After about half an hour, a booth on the top floor opens up and we all run upstairs to claim it.
"Much better," Allysa says as we slide in. It's much quieter up here, although still loud compared to normal standards.
A waitress comes over to take our drink order. I order red wine, and as soon as I do, Marshall practically jumps out of his seat. "Wine?" he yells. "You're in a onesie! You don't get free wine with a onesie!"
He tells the waitress to bring me a beer, instead. Ryle tells her to bring me wine. Allysa wants water, and this upsets Marshall even more. He tells the waitress to bring four bottles of beer and then Ryle says, "Two beers, red wine, and a water." The waitress is very confused by the time she leaves our table.
Marshall throws his arm around Allysa and kisses her. "How am I supposed to try and knock you up tonight if you aren't a little wasted?"
The look on Allysa's face changes, and I feel instantly bad for her. I know Marshall only said that in fun, but it has to bother her. She was just telling me a few days ago how depressed she is that she can't get pregnant.
"I can't have beer, Marshall."
"Then drink wine, at least. You like me more when you're tipsy." He laughs at himself, but Allysa doesn't.
"I can't have wine, either. I can't have any alcohol, actually."
Marshall stops laughing.
My heart does a flip-flop.
Marshall turns in the booth and grabs her shoulders, making her face him straight-on. "Allysa?"
She just starts nodding and I don't know who starts crying first. Me or Marshall or Allysa. "I'm gonna be a dad?" he yells.
She's still nodding, and I'm just bawling like an idiot. Marshall jumps up in the booth and yells, "I'm gonna be a dad!"
I can't even explain what this moment is like. A grown man in a onesie, standing up in a booth at a bar, yelling to whoever will listen that he's gonna be a dad. He pulls her up and they're both standing in the booth now. He kisses her and it's the sweetest thing I've ever seen.
Until I look at Ryle and catch him chewing on his bottom lip like he's trying to blink back a potential tear. He glances at me and sees me staring, so he looks away. "Shut up," he says. "She's my sister."
I smile and lean over and kiss him on the cheek. "Congratulations, Uncle Ryle."
Once the parents-to-be stop making out in the booth, Ryle and I both stand up and congratulate them. Allysa said she's been feeling sick for a while, but just took a test this morning before our grand opening. She was going to wait and tell Marshall tonight when they got home, but she couldn't hold it in for another second.
Our drinks come and we order food. Once the waitress walks away, I look at Marshall. "How did you two meet?"
He says, "Allysa tells the story better than I do."
Allysa perks up and leans forward. "I hated him," she says. "He was Ryle's best friend and he was always at the house. I thought he was so annoying. He had just moved to Ohio from Boston and he had that Boston accent. He thought it made him so cool but I just wanted to slap him every time he spoke."
"She's so sweet," Marshall says, sarcastically.
"You were an idiot," Allysa replies, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, one day Ryle and I had a few friends over. Nothing big, but our parents were out of town, so of course we had a little get-together."
"There were thirty people there," Ryle says. "It was a party."
"Okay, a party," Allysa says. "I walked into the kitchen and Marshall was standing there pressed up against some floozy."
"She wasn't a floozy," he says. "She was a nice girl. Tasted like Cheetos, but . . ."
Allysa glares at him so he shuts up. She turns back to me. "I lost it," she says. "I started yelling at him to take his whores to his own house. The girl was literally so terrified of me, she ran for the door and didn't come back."
"Cock blocker," Marshall says.
Allysa punches him in the shoulder. "Anyway. After I cock blocked him, I ran to my room, embarrassed that I did that. It was out of pure jealousy, and I didn't even realize I liked him that way until I saw his hands on some other girl's ass. I threw myself on my bed and started crying. A few minutes later, he walked into my room and asked me if I was okay. I rolled over and yelled, 'I like you, you stupid fuck-face!' "
"And the rest is history . . ." Marshall says.
I laugh. "Awe. Stupid fuck-face. How sweet."
Ryle holds up a finger and says, "You're leaving out the best part."
Allysa shrugs. "Oh yeah. So Marshall walked over to me, pulled me off the bed, kissed me with the same mouth he was just kissing the floozy with, and we made out for half an hour. Ryle walked in on us and started screaming at Marshall. Then Marshall pushed Ryle out of my bedroom, locked the door, and made out with me for another hour."
Ryle is shaking his head. "Betrayed by my best friend."
Marshall pulls Allysa to him. "I like her, you stupid fuck-face."
I laugh, but Ryle turns to me with a serious look on his face. "I didn't speak to him for an entire month, I was so mad. I eventually got over it. We were eighteen, she was seventeen. Wasn't much I could do in the way of keeping them apart."
"Wow," I say. "I sometimes forget how close in age you two are."
Allysa smiles and says, "Three kids in three years. I feel so sorry for my parents."
The table grows quiet. I see an apologetic look pass from Allysa to Ryle.
"Three?" I ask. "You have another sibling?"
Ryle straightens up and takes a sip of his beer. He sets it back down on the table and says, "We had an older brother. He passed away when we were kids."
Such a great night, ruined by a simple question. Luckily, Marshall redirects the conversation like a pro.
I spend the rest of the evening listening to stories about them growing up. I'm not sure I've ever laughed as hard as I have tonight.
When the game is over, we all walk back to the shop to retrieve our cars. Ryle said he caught an Uber over earlier, so he'll just ride with me. Before Allysa and Marshall leave, I tell her to hold on. I run inside the store and grab the steampunk flowers and run them back to their car. Her face lights up when I hand them to her.
"I'm happy you're pregnant but that's not why I'm giving you these flowers.
I just want you to have them. Because you're my best friend."
Allysa squeezes me and whispers in my ear. "I hope he marries you someday. We'll be even better sisters."
She climbs inside the car and they leave, and I just stand there watching them because I don't know that I've ever had a friend like her in my whole life. Maybe it's the wine. I don't know, but I love today. Everything about it. I especially love how Ryle looks, leaning against my car, watching me.
"You're really beautiful when you're happy."
Ugh! This day! Perfect!
*
We're making our way up the stairs to my apartment when Ryle grabs my waist and pushes me against the wall. He just starts kissing me, right there in the stairwell.
"Impatient," I mutter.
He laughs and cups my ass with both of his hands. "Nope. It's this onesie. You really should consider making this your business attire." He kisses me again and doesn't stop kissing me until someone passes us, heading down the stairs.
The guy mumbles, "Nice onesies," as he squeezes past us. "Did the Bruins win?"
Ryle nods. "Three to one," he responds, without looking up at the guy.
"Nice," the guy says.
Once he's gone, I step away from Ryle. "What is this onesie thing? Does every male in Boston know about this?"
He laughs and says, "Free beer, Lily. It's free beer." He pulls me up the stairs, and when we walk in the door, Lucy is standing at the kitchen table taping up a box of her stuff. There's another box she hasn't taped up yet and I could swear I see a bowl that I bought at HomeGoods sticking out of the top. She said she'd have all her stuff out by next week, but I have a feeling she'll conveniently have some of my stuff out, too.
"Who are you?" she asks, looking Ryle up and down.
"Ryle Kincaid. I'm Lily's boyfriend."
Lily's boyfriend.
Did you hear that?
Boyfriend.
It's the first time he's confirmed it, and he said it so confidently. "My boyfriend, huh?" I walk into the kitchen and grab a bottle of wine and two wineglasses.
Ryle comes up behind me as I'm pouring the wine and snakes his arms around my waist. "Yep. Your boyfriend."
I hand him a glass of wine and say, "So I'm a girlfriend?"
He holds up his glass and clinks it against mine. "To the end of trial runs and the beginning of sure things."
We're both smiling as we take a drink of our wine.
Lucy stacks the boxes together and walks toward the front door. "Looks like I got out right in time," she says.
The door closes behind her and Ryle raises an eyebrow. "I don't think your roommate likes me very much."
"You'd be surprised. I didn't think she liked me, either, but yesterday she asked me to be a bridesmaid in her wedding. I think she's just hoping for free flowers, though. She's very opportunistic."
Ryle laughs and leans against the refrigerator. His eyes fall to a magnet that says "Boston" on it. He pulls it off the refrigerator and raises an eyebrow. "You'll never get out of Boston purgatory if you keep souvenirs of Boston on your fridge like a tourist."
I laugh and grab the magnet, slapping it back on the fridge. I like that he remembers so much about the first night we met. "It was a gift. It only counts as touristy if I bought it myself."
He steps over to me and takes my glass of wine from my hands. He sets both of our glasses on the countertop, and then leans in and gives me a deep, passionate, drunken kiss. I can taste the tart fruitiness of the wine on his tongue and I like it. His hands go to the zipper on my onesie. "Let's get you out of these clothes."
He pulls me toward the bedroom, kissing me while we both struggle out of our clothes. By the time we make it to my bedroom, I'm down to my bra and panties.
He shoves me against the door, and I gasp at the unexpectedness of it.
"Don't move," he says. He presses his lips to my chest, then begins to kiss me slowly as he makes his way down my body.
Oh, Lord. Can this day seriously get any better?
I run my hands through his hair, but he grabs my wrists and presses them against the door. He climbs back up my body, squeezing my wrists tightly. He raises an eyebrow in warning. "I said . . . don't move."
I try not to smile, but it's hard to disguise. He drags his mouth back down my body. He slowly lowers my panties to my ankles, but he told me not to move, so I don't kick them off.
His mouth slides up my thigh until . . .
Yeah.
Best.
Day.
Ever.
Chapter Thirteen
Ryle: Are you at home or still at work?
Me: Work. Should be done in about an hour.
Ryle: Can I come see you?
Me: You know how people say there is no such thing as a stupid question? They're wrong. That was a stupid question.
Ryle: :)
Half an hour later, he's knocking at the front door of the floral shop. I closed the shop almost three hours ago, but I'm still here, trying to get caught up on the chaos that was the first month. The store is still too new to get an accurate projection of how well or how bad it's doing. Some days are great and some are so slow I send Allysa home. But overall, I'm happy with how it's gone so far.
And happy with how things are going with Ryle.
I unlock the door to let him in. He's in light blue scrubs again, and he still has a stethoscope around his neck. Fresh from work. Very nice touch. I swear, every time I see him straight off a shift, I have to hide the stupid grin on my face. I give him a quick kiss and then turn back toward my office. "I have a few things to finish up and then we can go back to my place."
He follows me into my office and closes the door. "You got a couch?" he asks, looking around my office.
I've spent some of this week putting the finishing touches on it. I bought a couple of lamps so I don't have to turn on the overpowering fluorescent lights. The lamps give the room a soft glow. I also bought a few plants to keep here permanently. It's no garden, but it's as close as it gets. It's come a long way since this room was being used as storage for vegetable crates.
Ryle walks over to the couch and falls down onto it, face-first. "Take your time," he mumbles into the pillow. "I'll just nap until you're finished."
I sometimes worry about how hard he pushes himself with work, but I don't say anything. I've been sitting in my office going on twelve hours now, so I don't have much room to talk when it comes to being too ambitious.
I spend the next fifteen or so minutes finalizing orders. When I'm finished, I close my laptop and look over at Ryle.
I thought he'd be asleep, but instead he's on his side with his head propped up on his hand. He's been watching me this whole time, and seeing the smile on his face makes me blush. I push my chair back and stand up.
"Lily, I think I like you too much," he says as I make my way over to him.
I scrunch up my nose as he sits up on the couch and pulls me onto his lap. "Too much? That doesn't sound like a compliment."
"That's because I don't know if it is," he says. He adjusts my legs on either side of him and then wraps his arms around my waist. "This is my first real relationship. I don't know if I'm supposed to like you this much yet. I don't want to scare you away."
I laugh. "Like that could ever happen. You work way too much to smother me."
He rubs his hands up my back. "Does it bother you that I work too much?"
I shake my head. "No. I worry about you sometimes because I don't want you to burn yourself out. But I don't mind that I have to share you with your passion. I actually really like how ambitious you are. It's kind of sexy. It might even be my favorite thing about you."
"You know what I like the most about you?"
"I already know this answer," I say, smiling. "My mouth."
He leans his head back against the couch. "Oh yeah. That does come first. But do you know what my second favorite thing about you is?"
I shake my head.
"You don't
put pressure on me to be something I'm incapable of being. You accept me exactly how I am."
I smile. "Well, in all fairness, you're a little different from when I first met you. You aren't so anti-girlfriend anymore."
"That's because you make it easy," he says, sliding a hand inside the back of my shirt. "It's easy being with you. I can still have the career I've always wanted, but you make it ten times better with the way you support me. When I'm with you, I feel like I get to have my cake and eat it, too."
Now both of his hands are beneath my shirt, pressed against my back. He pulls me toward him and kisses me. I grin against his mouth and whisper, "Is it the best cake you've ever tasted?"
One of his hands moves to the back of my bra and he unfastens it with ease. "I'm pretty sure, but maybe I need another taste of it to be positive." He pulls my shirt and bra over my head. I begin to push myself off of him so I can pull off my jeans, but he pulls me back onto his lap. He grabs his stethoscope and puts it in his ears, then presses the diaphragm against my chest, right over my heart.
"What's got your heart so worked up, Lily?"
I shrug innocently. "It might have a little to do with you, Dr. Kincaid."
He drops the end of the stethoscope and then lifts me off of him, pushing me back onto the couch. He spreads my legs and kneels down on the couch between them, placing the stethoscope against my chest again. He uses his other hand to hold himself up as he continues listening to my heart.
"I'd say you're at about ninety beats per minute," he says.
"Is that good or bad?"
He grins and lowers himself on top of me. "I'll be satisfied when it reaches one forty."
Yeah. If it reaches 140, I'm thinking I'll be satisfied, too.
He lowers his mouth to my chest and my eyes fall shut when I feel his tongue slide across my breast. He takes me in his mouth, keeping the stethoscope pressed against my chest the entire time. "You're at about one hundred now," he says. He wraps the stethoscope around his neck again and then pulls back, unbuttoning my jeans. Once he slides them off of me, he turns me over until I'm on my stomach, my arms draped over the arm of the couch.
"Get on your knees," he says.
I do what he says and before I'm even adjusted, I feel the cold metal of the stethoscope meet my chest again, this time with his arm snaked around me from behind. I remain still as he listens to my heartbeat. His other hand slowly begins to find its way between my legs and then inside my panties and then inside of me. I grip the couch but try to keep the noises to a minimum while he listens to my heart.