I own nothing.
I apologize for the very short chapter. There's a change in POV coming up soon so that chapter will be up soon.
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Anna POV
I slowly tiptoed into the kitchen. Even though we were already in our third month together, it was still hard sharing the bed with him. He didn't snore or hog the blankets but it wasn't easy for two adults to share a twin-size bed. He'd offered to buy a larger bed but I wasn't sure it would fit in my sardine can. Plus I wasn't sure that size was the real issue -I just really missed having my room to myself. I understood that Ryan was making an effort to open up and share himself with me, seeing that he hadn't had any significant relationships in the past few years, so I couldn't say anything, but lately, I'd been 'mistakenly' falling asleep on the couch.
Even though it was a Saturday, Ryan was sitting at the dinning table, working. With the steadily increasing success of his band, he seemed to have very little time to breathe which was fine with me because I was preoccupied with my thesis. The only problem was when we were together, we really weren't together because we were both concentrating on other things. But it always nice to be around him even if we were both doing our own things.
I smoothed his old white and black stripped shirt that had become my pajamas and, from behind, threw my arms around his neck. Being the infuriating Ryan I'd become accustomed to, instead of being startled, he just affectionately patted my arms and kept on reading. Not giving up, I squeezed my arms around him, kissed him on the cheek and kept nuzzling him till he turned his face around and kissed me on the lips.
"So, what are you doing?" I asked, looking over the pile of papers neatly stacked on the table.
"I'm just looking over a few things – seeing how the band's doing all over the country so that we can figure out how to promote the album in places it's underperforming."
"I see. When did you get up?" I asked, walking to the kitchen to get some breakfast. I was famished as I'd gone to bed on a salad.
He looked at the clock on the kitchen counter. "Around 6am, I guess. I want to get this done early so I don't have to think about it. I have to meet the boys for lunch then sound check before this evening's performance."
My kitchen looked exactly as it had the night before. The sink was bone dry, there were no used dishes and it was obvious that Ryan was doing that thing where he got so immersed in his work that he forgot to eat. I grabbed two bowls from the cabinet, poured some Honey Bunches of Oats in them and pulled out the jug of milk. Then I retraced my steps, dropped the milk on the lone spot not covered by papers, wiggled my butt in the space between the table and him, sat on his lap and handed him one of the bowls. "Here, you've got to eat something."
He laughed, re-adjusted the new reading glasses I thought made him look unbelievably sexy and dropped the document in his hand. "What makes you think I'm hungry?"
"I know these things."
He looked in the bowls in my hand, at the table, and then back to the bowls. "Where are the spoons?"
I looked in my hands and realized my mistake. "God, you're such a baby. Can't you do anything yourself?" I joked. As I got up, he clamped his arm around my waist and sat me back on his lap then relieved me of the bowls and placed them on the table. Then he took my hands and held on to them. My heart skipped a beat. He had that 'we-need-to-talk' look that I wasn't too fond off. I quickly racked my brain, wondering what he wanted to talk to me about and the only thing I could come up with was about moving in together. I understood his reasons but I couldn't bring myself to live in an apartment that held so many confusing memories, the least of which was Seth moving out because of what I'd done to him.
I got myself ready for an argument when he said, "About my birthday..."
I leaned into him, placed my head on his shoulder and sighed in relief. There couldn't be anything scary about his birthday, although I wondered why he was bringing it up three months early. "What about it?"
"Well, we're having a party."
"'We'?" I sat up.
"Yeah, they want to have a huge Newport-style party for me. I'm not sure I want it but Kirsten insists."
"Cool. You deserve it," I said, hoping I sounded sincere. I wasn't sure I was up to it because it'll involve me, Ryan, Seth, Sandy and the woman who'd told me the previous year that 'she was so pleased I was in her son's life' singing Kumbaya together and pretending that everything was okay. I didn't want my presence to make everything uncomfortable for everyone.
"What do you think?"
"I think it's a great idea, but for your twenty-sixth birthday? That's kind of an odd age for this kinda thing. Twenty-five would have been great but thirty would be perfect." And it would have given me four years to figure out a way to make things right again. And if not, at least, time would have passed and hopefully, Seth would have forgiven me.
"Yeah, I know. But even though she's not saying anything, I think it's really about my being with them for ten years."
"Oh," I mouthed, letting the significance of that sink in.
"So do you think you can get some time off to come to California?" he asked, although it didn't really sound like a question.
"If I have a job," I mused, biting my lower lip. I'd have graduated but so far, I'd only been offered truly crappy jobs.
"You'll have a job," he replied, reassuring me with a kiss.
"Yeah, but I'd have just started so would it be wise to ask for days off so early?" I started then realized how pathetic and flimsy it sounded. Becoming a part of The Cohen household had been life-changing for him and as his girlfriend, I knew I needed to come up with a more concrete excuse to get out of the celebration of that event. "But this is very important so I'm going to make sure I do. And if not, I'll just fly in after work," I amended, praying that three months was enough time to make the wound heal a little.
"Great," he replied. He looked a little satisfied but I wasn't quite sure. Sometimes, Ryan was so damn unreadable and I wasn't sure if he really meant what he said. With his arms still firmly around my waist he said, "About those spoons…"
I apologize for the very short chapter. There's a change in POV coming up soon so that chapter will be up soon.
----
Anna POV
I slowly tiptoed into the kitchen. Even though we were already in our third month together, it was still hard sharing the bed with him. He didn't snore or hog the blankets but it wasn't easy for two adults to share a twin-size bed. He'd offered to buy a larger bed but I wasn't sure it would fit in my sardine can. Plus I wasn't sure that size was the real issue -I just really missed having my room to myself. I understood that Ryan was making an effort to open up and share himself with me, seeing that he hadn't had any significant relationships in the past few years, so I couldn't say anything, but lately, I'd been 'mistakenly' falling asleep on the couch.
Even though it was a Saturday, Ryan was sitting at the dinning table, working. With the steadily increasing success of his band, he seemed to have very little time to breathe which was fine with me because I was preoccupied with my thesis. The only problem was when we were together, we really weren't together because we were both concentrating on other things. But it always nice to be around him even if we were both doing our own things.
I smoothed his old white and black stripped shirt that had become my pajamas and, from behind, threw my arms around his neck. Being the infuriating Ryan I'd become accustomed to, instead of being startled, he just affectionately patted my arms and kept on reading. Not giving up, I squeezed my arms around him, kissed him on the cheek and kept nuzzling him till he turned his face around and kissed me on the lips.
"So, what are you doing?" I asked, looking over the pile of papers neatly stacked on the table.
"I'm just looking over a few things – seeing how the band's doing all over the country so that we can figure out how to promote the album in places it's underperforming."
"I see. When did you get up?" I asked, walking to the kitchen to get some breakfast. I was famished as I'd gone to bed on a salad.
He looked at the clock on the kitchen counter. "Around 6am, I guess. I want to get this done early so I don't have to think about it. I have to meet the boys for lunch then sound check before this evening's performance."
My kitchen looked exactly as it had the night before. The sink was bone dry, there were no used dishes and it was obvious that Ryan was doing that thing where he got so immersed in his work that he forgot to eat. I grabbed two bowls from the cabinet, poured some Honey Bunches of Oats in them and pulled out the jug of milk. Then I retraced my steps, dropped the milk on the lone spot not covered by papers, wiggled my butt in the space between the table and him, sat on his lap and handed him one of the bowls. "Here, you've got to eat something."
He laughed, re-adjusted the new reading glasses I thought made him look unbelievably sexy and dropped the document in his hand. "What makes you think I'm hungry?"
"I know these things."
He looked in the bowls in my hand, at the table, and then back to the bowls. "Where are the spoons?"
I looked in my hands and realized my mistake. "God, you're such a baby. Can't you do anything yourself?" I joked. As I got up, he clamped his arm around my waist and sat me back on his lap then relieved me of the bowls and placed them on the table. Then he took my hands and held on to them. My heart skipped a beat. He had that 'we-need-to-talk' look that I wasn't too fond off. I quickly racked my brain, wondering what he wanted to talk to me about and the only thing I could come up with was about moving in together. I understood his reasons but I couldn't bring myself to live in an apartment that held so many confusing memories, the least of which was Seth moving out because of what I'd done to him.
I got myself ready for an argument when he said, "About my birthday..."
I leaned into him, placed my head on his shoulder and sighed in relief. There couldn't be anything scary about his birthday, although I wondered why he was bringing it up three months early. "What about it?"
"Well, we're having a party."
"'We'?" I sat up.
"Yeah, they want to have a huge Newport-style party for me. I'm not sure I want it but Kirsten insists."
"Cool. You deserve it," I said, hoping I sounded sincere. I wasn't sure I was up to it because it'll involve me, Ryan, Seth, Sandy and the woman who'd told me the previous year that 'she was so pleased I was in her son's life' singing Kumbaya together and pretending that everything was okay. I didn't want my presence to make everything uncomfortable for everyone.
"What do you think?"
"I think it's a great idea, but for your twenty-sixth birthday? That's kind of an odd age for this kinda thing. Twenty-five would have been great but thirty would be perfect." And it would have given me four years to figure out a way to make things right again. And if not, at least, time would have passed and hopefully, Seth would have forgiven me.
"Yeah, I know. But even though she's not saying anything, I think it's really about my being with them for ten years."
"Oh," I mouthed, letting the significance of that sink in.
"So do you think you can get some time off to come to California?" he asked, although it didn't really sound like a question.
"If I have a job," I mused, biting my lower lip. I'd have graduated but so far, I'd only been offered truly crappy jobs.
"You'll have a job," he replied, reassuring me with a kiss.
"Yeah, but I'd have just started so would it be wise to ask for days off so early?" I started then realized how pathetic and flimsy it sounded. Becoming a part of The Cohen household had been life-changing for him and as his girlfriend, I knew I needed to come up with a more concrete excuse to get out of the celebration of that event. "But this is very important so I'm going to make sure I do. And if not, I'll just fly in after work," I amended, praying that three months was enough time to make the wound heal a little.
"Great," he replied. He looked a little satisfied but I wasn't quite sure. Sometimes, Ryan was so damn unreadable and I wasn't sure if he really meant what he said. With his arms still firmly around my waist he said, "About those spoons…"
