Want You (BoyxBoy)

-7-

Quick question- What chapter are you looking forward to most in Ry's pov??

Also, I forgot to mention before posting this, but it's my birthday!! So vote for me!!

-Ry-

As expected, he hasn't made a single peep since we've been in the car, and we left five minutes ago. I was going to let him talk first, but considering we did just kiss, it's not likely he's going to start up a conversation any time soon. But I was hoping during this ride I could find out more about him.

I've avoided staring at him this whole time, so he doesn't get distracted from driving. But it's been hard. Just like last night, his car smells just like him. So with that and having to keep my eyes forward despite him being right next to me, I've been struggling.

I glance over to finally speak, but his eyes are already on mine. He jerks them back to the road, and I can see the blush he does from getting caught.

Ignoring how adorable that was, I break the silence. "I have a question."

"What is it?"

"Could we use this ride as a chance to get to know each other? Since you didn't answer my question, I'm assuming you still taking me means you did like the kiss, and you're just being shy about it."

I can see the slight tensing he does. "Whatever." That's not really denying it. "What do you want to know?"

"What's your full name?" I ask, dying to know what his middle name is.

"Wesley Anthony Hatcher." Oh my god, why's that so fucking cute? "What's yours?"

Him being interested doesn't slip past me, but I don't call him out on it. "Ryland Rhys Reyes."

"Lot of 'R's," he points out.

"Yeah." I guess I should get the difficult stuff out of the way. Well, difficult for me. I hope it's easy for him. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your family life like?"

"It's okay. I mean, I had a good childhood, but now my parents bury themselves in their work. My mom's a nurse, and my dad does boring business shit that I can't remember the name of."

Okay, good. Well, not exactly good, but it doesn't sound like he's got any trauma with them. "No siblings?"

"No."

"Hmm."

"What about your family?" he asks.

"Well, I don't have any siblings. Maya's the closet I have to one."

Before I can continue, he's quick to ask, "Have you two hooked up before?"

I can't control the face I make at the absurd question. "Ew! Hell no! I just told you she was like a sister."

I catch the roll of his eyes. "That's what most guys say."

"She is, though. For real. I don't even know why you would think that."

"You're close and both pretty people. Pretty people usually hook up together," he says, like it's obvious. But my brain automatically focuses on the fact that he thinks I'm pretty. But again, I don't point it out. Right now isn't the time to tease him. I want to get to know him more.

"Well, I met her when she was twelve before she grew into her nose or even had boobs yet." I still remember the day she came over to my foster parents' house the first time. Her dad had brought her, and she got left with me so the adults could talk in private. I wasn't thrilled about a little girl bothering me, even if we're only one year apart. But she was actually pretty cool. I never saw her dad again, but Maya was over pretty often since my parents would babysit her for him. It wasn't hard for us to bond. Then when she was older and didn't need a babysitter, she still showed up bothering me. But in a good way. "So, that's how I see her."