us toward the shower door, I only want to be here,
in his arms. I laugh as he drags us both under the running water and he resumes
kissing me again, separating only to pull the shirt over my head. He brings my
body close to his and I hold on to him for dear life.
* * *
My eyelids feel heavy, but I can tell
from the light that seeps in through the curtains that it’s still daylight.
Between the shower, and what happened after the shower, I could quite possibly
sleep for days. Ryan rolls over and places his arm over my waist and squeezes
me to his chest. I rest my hand over his and entwine our fingers, feeling that
here in his arms is where I belong.
He raises himself up and rests on his arm
so he can look down at me. “You tired?”
“Depends,” I start. “What do you have
planned?”
He leans down and kisses my nose. “I know
you’ve never seen the beach, so I figured we could drive out to PB and maybe
grab some dinner.”
I can’t contain my smile; this is one
perk to this little trip I’ve looked forward to. “What’s PB?” I ask, my smile
fading in confusion.
“Sorry, Pacific Beach,” he smiles. “I
forget you’ve never been out here before. Why don’t I take you to see some of
my favorite places out here?”
“That sounds great,” I admit, turning to
fully face him. “I really love you, you know that, right?”
“I love you, too,” he says, between
kisses, the final one becoming slow and sensual.
* * *
When we finally get out of bed Ryan, true
to his word, takes me all over the city, showing me the beaches, malls, and
military base. There is so much to take in, but I have to admit, I really do
like it out here.
We continue driving, and since I have no
clue where I am, I figure we are heading to eat, but he slows the car in an old
neighborhood. He parks on the side of the street and turns the car off to show
me a small home where he spent countless summers. In the years that we’ve been
together, he’s not returned to San Diego, and though I can see this is hard for
him, he fits here.
He used to tell me about the times he
would come out here to visit his grandparents for a few weeks every year. Both
of Ryan’s parents worked, and I guess he was a bit of a handful, so they would
pawn him off on the retired pair. Only, they didn’t realize how much he loved
it.
When he was a kid, he said that they
would take him to the zoo at least once each visit. However, as he got older,
he would go to the beach and rent a surfboard and spend all day trying to learn
to stay up on the board. His grandmother surprised him one year with his own surfboard,
which he said was the best gift he’d ever gotten.
“See that garage, right there?” he asks,
pointing to a tiny shack in the back. “Grams had Pa clear his ‘junk’ out of it,
as she called it, and said I could do whatever I wanted with it.”
“So what did ya do?” I turned smiling at
him.
“Not much really,” he admits. “I tried to
turn it into a bungalow because I had this idea that when I got out of high
school, I’d come out here and just be a beach bum, living with them.”
I look at my fiancé, loving there are
still things about him I don’t know. “So what happened? Why didn’t you come out
here?”
“I did,” he responds. My jaw opens
slightly to question, but he continues, “for the summer. I told Grams I wanted
to move out here. I said I didn’t want to go to college, but she said that if I
didn’t go, she would disown me.”
“And, what? Just like that, she was able
to convince you?” Ryan is very headstrong, and when he makes his mind up to do
something, it’s hard to sway him.
“Nah, we spent a lot of time going back
and forth. Every time I had a reason to stay, she’d give me three to go.”
“Such as?”
“Grandpa didn’t go,” he offers with a
grin. I figure that must have been his favorite thing to point out. “She would
raise her eyebrows in that ‘don’t fuck with me’ way and start in on
in his arms. I laugh as he drags us both under the running water and he resumes
kissing me again, separating only to pull the shirt over my head. He brings my
body close to his and I hold on to him for dear life.
* * *
My eyelids feel heavy, but I can tell
from the light that seeps in through the curtains that it’s still daylight.
Between the shower, and what happened after the shower, I could quite possibly
sleep for days. Ryan rolls over and places his arm over my waist and squeezes
me to his chest. I rest my hand over his and entwine our fingers, feeling that
here in his arms is where I belong.
He raises himself up and rests on his arm
so he can look down at me. “You tired?”
“Depends,” I start. “What do you have
planned?”
He leans down and kisses my nose. “I know
you’ve never seen the beach, so I figured we could drive out to PB and maybe
grab some dinner.”
I can’t contain my smile; this is one
perk to this little trip I’ve looked forward to. “What’s PB?” I ask, my smile
fading in confusion.
“Sorry, Pacific Beach,” he smiles. “I
forget you’ve never been out here before. Why don’t I take you to see some of
my favorite places out here?”
“That sounds great,” I admit, turning to
fully face him. “I really love you, you know that, right?”
“I love you, too,” he says, between
kisses, the final one becoming slow and sensual.
* * *
When we finally get out of bed Ryan, true
to his word, takes me all over the city, showing me the beaches, malls, and
military base. There is so much to take in, but I have to admit, I really do
like it out here.
We continue driving, and since I have no
clue where I am, I figure we are heading to eat, but he slows the car in an old
neighborhood. He parks on the side of the street and turns the car off to show
me a small home where he spent countless summers. In the years that we’ve been
together, he’s not returned to San Diego, and though I can see this is hard for
him, he fits here.
He used to tell me about the times he
would come out here to visit his grandparents for a few weeks every year. Both
of Ryan’s parents worked, and I guess he was a bit of a handful, so they would
pawn him off on the retired pair. Only, they didn’t realize how much he loved
it.
When he was a kid, he said that they
would take him to the zoo at least once each visit. However, as he got older,
he would go to the beach and rent a surfboard and spend all day trying to learn
to stay up on the board. His grandmother surprised him one year with his own surfboard,
which he said was the best gift he’d ever gotten.
“See that garage, right there?” he asks,
pointing to a tiny shack in the back. “Grams had Pa clear his ‘junk’ out of it,
as she called it, and said I could do whatever I wanted with it.”
“So what did ya do?” I turned smiling at
him.
“Not much really,” he admits. “I tried to
turn it into a bungalow because I had this idea that when I got out of high
school, I’d come out here and just be a beach bum, living with them.”
I look at my fiancé, loving there are
still things about him I don’t know. “So what happened? Why didn’t you come out
here?”
“I did,” he responds. My jaw opens
slightly to question, but he continues, “for the summer. I told Grams I wanted
to move out here. I said I didn’t want to go to college, but she said that if I
didn’t go, she would disown me.”
“And, what? Just like that, she was able
to convince you?” Ryan is very headstrong, and when he makes his mind up to do
something, it’s hard to sway him.
“Nah, we spent a lot of time going back
and forth. Every time I had a reason to stay, she’d give me three to go.”
“Such as?”
“Grandpa didn’t go,” he offers with a
grin. I figure that must have been his favorite thing to point out. “She would
raise her eyebrows in that ‘don’t fuck with me’ way and start in on
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