9.

"So what did you have planned for the rest of the day?" Summer asked as they were finishing up the breakfast dishes.

"I was thinking of trying to find a decent gym near here. I haven't done anything physical since I got here, and if I keep cooking from those books of yours then I'll end up turning to flab," Ryan replied.

He couldn't help but think that maybe if he tired himself out physically, then he might collapse with exhaustion at bedtime. It would be preferable to being awake all night thinking about Summer lying next to him.

"We can't have that," she agreed.

She knew that she enjoyed looking at him. He was right up there in the eye candy stakes. But she kept her exuberant enthusiasm under wraps.

"Didn't you used to like to run?" she asked.

"Yeah. But I can't run here. There's too much traffic."

"No. But you can run around Central Park. Half of New York does," she pointed out.

"Are you part of that group?"

"Oh no. I don't run. But it's such a nice day that I could be tempted to hire a bike and follow you around."

Plus, I'd get to lust after your body without you being any the wiser, she thought to herself with amusement.

"That sounds like fun. I haven't been there yet, but a few people from work talk about it all the time."

"It's great. Why don't you go get ready? I'll finish up here, and then I'll have a quick shower after you've finished, and we can go."

Ryan couldn't help but consider the possibility of them showering together to save time and water, but quickly rid himself of those thoughts.

"Sounds like a plan," he replied.

--

The day in Central Park was glorious. The weather was perfect; not a cloud in the sky. Summer rented a bike at the entrance and the two set off to explore.

It had been a long time since Summer had been on a bike, and she found that instead of being able to follow behind Ryan and admire the view as she'd hoped, it was the other way around for a while. He ran behind to steady the bike whenever she started to teeter, which at the beginning was quite often. But eventually she got the hang of it and they settled into a steady rhythm.

They wound their way along the paths alongside ponds full of ducks, stopping every now and then along the way to admire the scenery. They passed fields filled with small children playing games, guys tossing footballs and families picnicking.

After a while, they decided to rest. They bought hotdogs and fresh lemonade from a vendor and settled in the shade of a large tree to recuperate.

Summer waited to see if Ryan would say anything, but as usual he was being his normal quiet self.

"So how's New York?" she asked, wanting to break the silence. It hadn't been awkward. She enjoyed being with him even if he didn't talk. It was just that they'd spent so much time talking over the last few weeks when they hadn't been together that now that they were together, it seemed strange that they were both so happy to remain quiet.

"It's great," he said smiling as he watched a dad playing ball with his small son. "Surprisingly so," he added.

Summer frowned momentarily.

"If you didn't expect to like it, why did you decide to move here?"

"It wasn't that I didn't expect to like it. More that I hadn't really wanted to leave where I was," Ryan tried to explain. "I guess I'm just a boring stay at home kinda guy since I've been with the Cohens," he explained, shrugging his shoulders to show that he was fine with that.

"You might like home, but that doesn't make you boring," Summer pointed out, realizing how difficult things must have been in Berkeley for Ryan to actually take the initiative and leave. "Were things really that bad?"

Somewhere over the last few weeks they'd managed to find a common thread, so she knew she didn't need to elaborate. They always seemed to know what the other was thinking. It meant that they could talk in a kind of shorthand, knowing full well that the other would understand. It came from a familiarity that they'd never had before.

Summer knew not to push things. If he chose not to verbalize his feelings, that was fine. He'd tell her when wanted to. Or not tell her, if that's what he felt more comfortable with. He was quiet for a while.

"Let's just say that Seth has some growing up to do," he finally got out. "Maybe being at home with his parents without me around will make it easier for him."

Summer considered what he'd said, but didn't really understand. Ryan and Seth had always been so close.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that you're here, but I don't see how you not being around could make it any easier for him."

Ryan sighed. It was apparent that he was reluctant to say more, but still wanted to, which only made it even more special that he chose to confide in her further.

"Sandy and Kirsten were constantly holding me up as some pillar of the community. They used me as the example that Seth should be following," he added with another sigh.

Summer knew it would be easy for them to do that. Ryan was everything that you'd hope that your child would become. He'd achieved so much since he'd come to live with them and had repaid their faith in him over and over.

"It really made me uncomfortable," he admitted. "Plus, Seth was resenting me more and more because of it. I thought that it was better that I get out of there while he was still talking to me and before things got any worse between us."

Even though things with Seth were over, these were people that had meant a lot to her. Summer couldn't help but be concerned.

"Have you spoken to Seth since you left?"

"Yeah."

"And has it helped?"

Ryan shook his head as if trying to rid it of an unpleasant memory, hesitating before he went on.

"We've spoken a couple of times. But it's always the same."

Summer waited for him to explain, but it was obvious that he was even more reluctant to continue.

"And that's …." Summer prompted.

"He always wants money," Ryan supplied.

"Money? But if there's one thing that …" Summer started.

"I know. It's always been something he has and I don't. But I'm guessing that Sandy and Kirsten have basically cut him off except for necessities. And he figures that since I'm working …. yeah … anyhow, it hasn't been great."

"Have you given him any?" Summer asked hesitantly, almost scared of the answer.

Ryan shook his head.

"No. Sandy called and asked me to not to. They're trying the tough love approach. They're hoping that his dealers will eventually stop supplying him if he can't pay. They want him to go to rehab, but he's holding out. I just don't know …"

Summer could see how troubled he was.

"It's for the best. He needs to get some help," she said softly.

"I know. But I can't help wondering if maybe I should have stayed. Maybe there was something I could do to help. I just couldn't see how. I felt like I was only making things worse."

Summer reached over and threaded her fingers through his in an effort to comfort him. When Ryan cared, he cared too much. He wanted to fix everything for everyone but he wasn't superman.

He looked up at her, but didn't pull his fingers away as he tried to explain further.

"It's so easy here to put them at the back of my mind. I love work. And this. Here. Being with you. I feel guilty when I think about them back there trying to get through to Seth about the help that he needs while I'm here enjoying myself with you."

Summer paused for a moment. How much of his guilt had to do with not being in Berkeley and how much was to do with him being with her? She didn't want to dwell on it because she wasn't about to give him up. But she wanted to know more.

"What did Sandy and Kirsten think about you coming here?"

"They were completely supportive. They said they'd miss me, but they agreed it was probably the best thing for all of us right now."

Summer nodded, pleased that she wasn't going to be at odds with the Cohen's. They still meant a lot to her even if she had divorced their son. She didn't want Ryan to go back to Berkeley and have a guilt trip laid on him by Seth. Plus, she realised that she didn't want him to go back there because she enjoyed having him around. Maybe too much.

"You trust them, don't you?" she asked.

"Sandy and Kirsten? Of course."

"Then trust them to handle this. They'll deal with Seth. You should move on with your own life," she suggested, then wanting to change the subject she added, "And right now that means that it's time to look for ice cream," she said, standing up and brushing herself off.

Ryan watched her, resisting the impulse to help. There was a small blade of grass stuck on the curve of her ass that he wanted to remove, but he was scared that if his hand touched her that he wouldn't want to take it away. He'd want to cup it in his hand and bring her to hold against him and …

"Come on, slouch. Ice cream time," Summer demanded, startling him out of his day dream.

"Sure," he said, standing up to join her. "Lead the way."

--

They stopped at the market on the way back, buying enough for a veritable feast.

"You do realise that you're going to have to help with this?" Summer pointed out.

"Yeah. I'll help with the eating," Ryan supplied. "I'm starving. All that exercise has certainly helped me work up quite an appetite," he said, his eyes running over her.

His appetite was certainly up. Unfortunately, it wasn't purely for food.

Summer turned to him and noticed his line of vision. Was there more to that comment than met the eye?

"Uhuh. You'll need to do a bit more than that. I'm going to put you to work as my galley slave," she informed him. She couldn't help but think about what having him as a slave could really mean.

Ryan gulped as he considered the possibilities of being her slave. He liked the idea, a little more than was probably healthy.

"Sure. Whatever you want," he replied, trying to get his mind back on food.

Summer blushed as her thoughts were filled with the possibility of getting him to do whatever she wanted. She definitely wanted much more than food.

--

Dinner was good. No, better than good. It was extraordinary. They laughed as they prepared dinner, laughed some more as they ate dinner, and continued laughing while they cleaned up.

Ryan glanced at the clock. It seemed that time flew by whenever they were together. And yet sometimes, when he gazed into the depths of her eyes and lost himself there, time seemed to stand still.

He knew he had to get over it. Or past it. Or whatever. He needed to get it under control before they went to bed. Together. Or he would never be able to sleep.

He thought about the week ahead. Now that he knew how much he enjoyed having Summer with him, he knew the apartment would be lonely, and so would he. But she hadn't exaggerated when she'd said she was hardly ever there. She was leaving tomorrow and didn't know when she'd be back; probably not for a few weeks at least. They would be back to talking on the phone again.

And during that time he was going to have to get laid. It might be the only way that he'd be able to deal with her eventual return.

--