Smokin' & Spinnin' (20 page)

A slight pounding noise breaks me from my deep, drug-induced sleep, but I am too blissfully serene to care. I roll over and hug my cool pillow as I succumb to the wonders of modern medicine again.

* * *

After what seems like years, my eyes flutter open. I feel rested, but I am in a state of not being able to wake up, not to mention slightly disoriented. A loud pounding noise breaks me from my present state.
What is that?
I toss and turn, trying to regain my blissful slumber, but the hammering continues. I sit up in my bed warily. It takes me a beat to realize that someone is knocking on my door.

I struggle to my feet and pad down the hallway in a daze as the knocking turns to pounding. What in the world? Still dazed, I open the door.

“Jesus Christ, Whitney!” Ryan shouts at me, infuriated. I wince as he pushes me back inside and closes the door behind him. The door clicks, and Ryan booms again, “Where in the hell have you been?”

It takes me a few minutes to process his words because I am still stoned from the Ambien.

“Whitney!”

I shake my head. “What?” I shout. “Where do you think I have been? What does it look like?” I look down at myself and realize that I need more clothes on.

Ryan walks over to the island in my kitchen to put down his cell phone and keys. “What is wrong with you? Whitney, did you take something?” he asks, turning back to me.

I give him my devilish grin. “Ambien!”

He rolls his eyes at me. “How long have you been asleep?”

“I don’t know…What time is it?” I fumble.

“Whitney, it is nearly three o’clock in the afternoon!”

Holy shit!
That is some good stuff right there.

“Oh! I don’t know…a couple, twelve hours, maybe fourteen.” I raise my eyebrows at him innocently, knowing full well that I am about to incite another riot.

“Jesus, Whitney! No wonder you haven’t answered my calls or messages! And I have been pounding on your door since nine a.m.! What if someone saw or recognized me?”

I am mad now. Ryan has barged into my house again, unannounced, and woken me up from my glorious sleep. “Don’t you dare start with me! I am—was—exhausted. You pissed me off, and I wanted to be left alone! So, I turned my phone off.”

Speaking of my phone, where in the world is it? I start looking around at my bags that are scattered around on the floor, lying right where I left them early this morning. I lean down to grab my carryon bag, and I can feel Ryan’s eyes on me.

“What are you looking for?” Ryan asks, aggravated.

“My damn phone!” I reply, mirroring his tone.

I quickly find my iPhone and press the on button until it lights up. I steal a quick glance at Ryan, who is watching me intently. I walk over, place my phone on the island beside his, and roll my eyes at him all at the same time. He reaches out abruptly and pulls me into his arms.

Ryan runs his hand around my neck and up into my hair. Instantly, I go weak at the knees. “You made me mad too, but I was worried about you!”

Oh my
!

Ryan searches my face. “You need to wake up. Do you need something to drink?” he says, but he does not turn me loose. He leans over to press his lips against mine. I place my hand across his chest and press firmly to stop him.

I can feel his pectoral muscles against the palm of my hand, and my breath hitches in my throat. No matter how mad at am I am, I cannot resist him, but I’m going to try. “I am still pissed at you! So don’t think you can waltz in here, sweep me off my feet, and everything is fine.”

I pull back from him, but Ryan holds me firmly in place. Slowly he smiles. “I want to be so angry with you, but for the life of me, all I can think about is making love to you.”

I blush. And then I go weak in the knees again.
Damn!
How does he have this power over me? And like him, I can’t stay mad at him either. I shake my head and look down, not knowing what to say. Ryan gently places his hand under my chin and pulls my face up to meet his.

As he leans in to kiss me, a series of loud cell phone message alerts come through. It sounds like a chorus of electronic tones signaling new e-mails, voicemails and text messages. I look up at Ryan and then over to my phone. He pulls my face back to him. He leans into my body again, but this time holds me in a tighter embrace. He presses his soft lips to mine. I run my hands up into his brown hair and sigh against his kiss.

Then, all of a sudden, our embrace is interrupted by another loud knock on my door. We both jump back.
Shit!
My apartment is like Grand freaking Central Station today. I leap out of Ryan’s embrace and rush over to the door.

“What the hell?” Ryan exclaims as I go to look out the peephole.

I have a deep pool of dread in my stomach because I already know who it is. I look through the peephole and confirm my suspicions. It is Brooke and Matt.
Double shit! I turn back to Ryan and shoo him away.

“Who is it?” Ryan whispers.

“Brooke,” I hiss.

“Whitney!” Brooke shouts from outside of the door.

I jump again. I turn back to Ryan and mouth, “Go, go! To my bedroom! Just hide!”

Ryan turns sharply on his heel and disappears just as I hear Brooke fumbling for her keys. I snatch open the door.

“Whitney!” Brooke exclaims. “Where the hell have you been?”

I jump back at her outburst. What is with these people?
Jeezus
.

“Where does it look like I’ve been?” I throw my hands down at my clothes—or lack thereof.

Brooke barges through the door, and Matthew follows behind her like a whipped dog. She is carrying a garment bag that looks to be packed full of clothes. Suddenly, I remember what we were going to do today. She was bringing me clothes to try on for Daytona week.
Crap!
I watch as Brooke tosses the bag onto the coffee table.

“What are y’all doing here?” I say.

“Whitney, I have been trying to call you all day, and I panicked when I couldn’t reach you!”

“Why? Didn’t you receive my text message?” I question her, recalling the last message I sent to Brooke before the plane departed.

“No!” she exclaims.

“I sent you a text before my plane took off. It was delayed, I was exhausted, and I just wanted to sleep today. I turned off my phone,” I say, exasperated.

Brooke raises her eyebrows at me, and I can tell she is pissed.

“Please let me get some clothes on!” I turn on my heel to the bedroom, praying that she doesn’t follow me. She doesn’t. Ryan is sitting on the edge of my bed when I enter the room. As soon as I enter, he charges me. The power of his embrace forces us into the wall with an audible thud. His lean hands encircle my body, and his lips find mine within an instant. He captivates me. I have lost all control to him. I don’t even care that Brooke and Matthew are a few feet away.

Brooke’s voice breaks me from my trance. “Whitney?”

I groan softly against Ryan’s lips and pull away. “Be right there!” He raises his eyebrows at me, and I shush him by putting my index finger up against his mouth. I mouth, “I’ll be right back!”

I pull on some lounge pants and toddle back into the kitchen, where Brooke stands, peeved. She has a cell phone in her hand.

“Whose is this?” she asks.

My heart falls to the floor. It’s Ryan’s cell phone. I give her a strange look and say, “It’s my work cell.”

“But I thought you were using your own cell phone for work,” she quickly retorts.

OK, here we go with the inquisition. “No…I mean yes…I have my personal one and a work phone, but I don’t use it.”

Brooke gives me a hard stare. She knows I am lying. I am a terrible liar! I walk over and attempt to take the phone from her. She pulls it back abruptly.

“If you don’t use it, then why does it have a password?”

Oh Damn!
I did not see that one coming. She is starting to tick me off now. “Give me the freaking phone!” I shout a little too loud.

Brooke takes a step back, stunned by my tone. “What’s the pass code, Whitney?” she retorts. I have challenged her now and my odds of winning are not great.

I finally lose it. “What the hell is your problem? Did you not have enough depositions or cross-examinations this week, Brooke? Or did you just feel the need to come over here and give me hell on my only day off?”

Matthew snickers in the background as I continue my rant.

“I mean, this is my only day off in weeks, and you barge in here and start questioning me about a damn cell phone?” I pause. I can see a look of hurt on Brooke’s face, but it is fleeting. She throws the cell phone at my head, which I barely catch before it smacks me in the face.

“Come on, Matthew.” And she walks out the door. I roll my eyes at her immaturity. Matthew does as he is told and follows suit out the door, giving me a small wave and nod of the head.

As the door slams, I slide down onto the couch. I put my head in my arms. No, No, No! I can feel Ryan approach from the hall. I don’t look up at him. I feel sick about the way I acted, but I had to get her out of the apartment. And she pushed me too far.

Ryan sits down beside me. “I take it she doesn’t know?”

I shake my head silently. He runs his hand around my neck and up into my hair. It takes my breath every time he does that. I look up into his eyes.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says softly as he pulls me up from the couch.

I nod. Sounds like the best idea I have heard all day. Well…since I have been awake, that is!

“Get dressed and meet me downstairs,” Ryan commands, then kisses me swiftly.

As he leaves the apartment, I race back to my bedroom. I don’t know where we are going, but I couldn’t care less at this point. Actually, that’s not really true. I would have preferred it if he had just stayed here and we just went to my bedroom.

Now insanely awake, I throw on some navy-blue Capri pants, a white blouse, and some cute flip-flops. I run a brush through my long hair and whip it up into a ponytail. I grab some light makeup, touch up my face, and add a little lip gloss. I know we are not going “out” in public, but I at least want to look nice for him.

I spritz on some perfume, grab my phone and keys, and I’m out the door. I scale the stairs effortlessly and walk out into the street. I look at the cars parked on the curb, expecting to see Ryan’s sleek black Camaro, but it is his big white Chevrolet truck that I find parallel parked almost at the end of the block.

I look around to make sure no one is watching. I am clear. I bound up to Ryan’s life-size Tonka truck. Before I can pull the door handle, it swings open from inside, and I am met by Ryan’s gorgeous face and megawatt smile. My insides flutter. I grab hold of the door handle, step up on the rail, and hoist myself up into the truck with Ryan.

“Ready?” he asks. I only nod and smile in an attempt to not give my anxiousness away. Ryan pulls his truck out and onto the road, and we meander through the streets of downtown Charlotte.

“Where are we going?” I ask, but feel confident in the fact that we are going to his house. There isn’t any other place we can go.

“I had planned to take you to the lake today,” Ryan says as he makes a left turn, following the I-77 signs, “but since you didn’t bother to answer your damn phone, you shot those plans to hell and back.”

“Hold on! When I left Kentucky last night, you had basically cussed me out during the little temper tantrum that you threw down, then walked away without giving me the opportunity to explain.” I shrug. “I assumed we were done.”

Ryan laughs wholeheartedly. “Whitney, I am far from done with you!” And with statement, he reaches out and hooks his hand around my upper thigh to pull me across the bench seat so that I am sitting shoulder to shoulder with him. Our bodies touch, and the delicious heat radiates throughout my body, causing my face to flush.

Every inch of my body aches for him. I take a deep breath to calm my giddiness. I look up at Ryan to find him watching me just as intently with a pained look of emotion on his face that I cannot read. I can’t tell if its concern for him, for me, or for the both of us. Finally, Ryan smiles at me, breaking the sexual tension, and kisses me quickly before turning his eyes back to the road.

Ryan takes the on-ramp to the interstate cautiously. It makes me laugh out loud.

“What’s funny?”

“You. I guess I expected you to drive with a heavier foot.”

Ryan looks at me attentively. “Normally, I do, but not with you in the truck, though.”

Oh!

“Besides, I wouldn’t want to scare you!”

I roll my eyes, but am shocked by his endearment. “I don’t scare easily. You should know that by now!”

“Yeah, well…we will see about that!”

I know he has something up his sleeve. Ryan picks up his speed as we head out of Charlotte.

“So, the lake?” I ask.

He nods. “I have a house up on Lake Norman. I thought we could spend the day up there, but—” I hold up my hand to stop him from saying anything further, but he continues. “You are going to have to settle for dinner at my house instead.”

Ryan wraps his left arm around my body and pulls me in closer to him. I snuggle into his warm embrace and smile. Wherever he is, is where I wanna be.