My Spy 5: A Southern Girl in Paris

Getaway Car

I stayed in bed until Saturday afternoon with Celia checking on me every hour. Bash called me whenever he had a free moment and Momma decided she was interested to see what Watson would do when he discovered his wife was a spy. She stayed snuggled up next to me as we progressed through the episodes on my laptop and she even commented on how lovely London is depicted in the series. She said if I make it over there I needed to go take a picture at Sherlock's house.

As the sun was starting to drag down from the sky, I had told her I had still wanted to go to Margot and Austin's party.

"You better not drink and no one better bump into you," she tells me as she helps curl my hair and I nod along to her demands. "I also want no funny business or fightin' between you and Ryan. This is about Margot and Austin, so no nonsense ya hear?" She says as she finishes the last piece.

"I'm going to hang out with Gus. I have no intention of even talking to Ryan. He hasn't bothered me since I've been cooped up in here other than to ask how my x-rays came back," I tell her and I walk over to slip into some comfortable flats. I wasn't able to get dolled up like I had wanted to since I can't move my shoulder awkwardly to get into a dress so I had to settle for a button-down flannel and a pair of jeans.

"You can say what you want Sawyer but y'all are magnets. This is not the first time you've been told to stay away from him and how'd that turn out?" She says with a frown and her hands on her hips.

"Austin telling me and Sebastian telling me are totally different," I tell her with an eye roll. I grab my purse off my vanity and she pulls my door open for us to leave. As I come down the staircase, I see Ryan looking sharp in dark jeans and a black tee standing by the front door. He watches me as I drop off the bottom step and then he says, "Hey, I guess Austin is meeting us at Gus's. He had a bit of work to finish up." I notice his sandy hair is styled differently now. It's a bit longer on top and it's flipped back with the help of some gel. He's also filling out his shirts a bit better and I notice the sleeve hugs his bicep. I avoid Momma's stare as I reply back, "Okay, well I was planning on walking to Gus's since I can't drive too well with my stupid arm."

"Guess I'll walk with you because Austin has the car," he says quickly and I am about to offer to have him drive us in my car but I remember that he told me he wouldn't even sit in it. I glance back to Momma who is giving me daggers but I just smile broadly and pull the front door open. Ryan trots behind me and once we make it to the dirt road, he says, "How's your shoulder?"

I instinctively grab onto my elbow and say, "It's alright. Mostly just annoying at night because I have to sleep on my back now."

"Ah, and you're only a side sleeper," he says and then his face convinces me that he wishes he hadn't remembered that. I ignore the wince and say, "Yeah, it's an adjustment. It also sucks that I will be sober tonight because of it. I was kind of looking forward to gettin' plastered." He laughs and the noise is like a punch to the heart. Genuine Ryan laughs are rare and I used to savor the moments when I could get him to do it.

"I'm sure the bottles you have stashed around your room are sad they will have to be tucked away a bit longer." We are now in step side by side as we make the short walk. I'm surprised when I think of my usual hiding spots and I reply, "Actually, I haven't restocked in a while. I can't remember the last time I had a good buzz off my Pinot." He looks at me in shock and I nod.

He then says, "Well I'm sure the winery is making a profit now then." I laugh and I hadn't even realized I had cut back on my drinking until now. I have a glass occasionally with Bash but I don't usually indulge in the entire bottle when I am with him.

Ryan and I walk in silence for a few steps and our feet on the road suddenly sound too loud. I know I should ask about New York, I know I should see how he is liking it but I can't bring myself to do it. I don't want to know.