While You Were Here

Chapter One

I smile over at the driver's seat.

"Can we go to the beach?"

"It's the middle of winter, Colette!" says Ryan. He squeezes my hand. "Why not?" I grin and turn up the radio. Bon Iver begins blasting and I roll down all the windows and open the sun roof.

"Col, it's about three degrees right now," says Ryan, shivering. He shakes his head at me as I stand up on my seat and haul my torso out the sun roof.

I throw my arms up and the wind pushes my hair back. I almost lose my unzippered jacket but I grab it at the last second. I shut my eyes and feel tears stream down my cheeks. When I open them again, Ryan is slowing down at an intersection. I climb back in and roll up all the windows. Ryan blasts the heat. I shiver. I guess a dress and tights wasn't the best option for the beginning of December.

"You're going to get pneumonia," says Ryan, kissing my nose. My cheeks are bright red from the cold and I feel them flush brighter. He takes my hands and rubs them against his.

"Let my love warm you up," he teases. His green eyes look gorgeous. The glow of a streetlamp makes them almost iridescent. His tousled hair is filtering the light and I want to take a picture of him so badly. I start to reach for my camera but he pulls away to keep driving. I push back the seat and gently put my feet on his dashboard. I've chosen to wear flats tonight.

"What, no Converse?" he jokes.

"I wanted to look nice," I smile shyly. I duck my head slightly and my hair swings forward. Ryan reaches over and tucks it neatly behind my ear. He frees my bangs.

"Just be you," he says gently. I scoot over and put my head on his shoulder. He entwines our hands and puts them on his thigh. My hand looks so small in his and I can feel his calluses. I smile at the sight of his fingers flexing around mine as he holds on.

"I love you," I say quietly. There is silence and the sound of Greg Laswell's voice.

"I love you too," says Ryan. He gives me one of his rare wide smiles. I usually get a warm half-smile from him. He is not one to waste his emotions.

We just drive for a little bit, the music from our playlist softly serenading us down the highway. We pull up the beach and Ryan runs around to my side of his truck to open my door. He extends his hand to me.

"Hold on," he instructs. I'm five foot one and the drop from his truck to the ground scares me a little. I wobble on the landing and in a second his hands are on my waist, steadying me. I blush and say, "thank you." Ryan seems stereotypical. He's polite, has good manners, and knows how to sweet talk my parents. But he's anything but ordinary. He's steady, dependable. Never boring. Just constant. I can depend on him like I can depend on Christmas coming every year no matter what.

I watch as Ryan unhooks the bed of his pickup and sits on the ledge. He makes sure I'm up, safe and sound, before effortlessly leaping next to me. I breathe in. Ryan smells like vanilla. He laughs at my guilty expression when he catches me almost sniffing his shirt.

"Watch yourself, don't be that girlfriend," he jokes, pretending to inch away.

"Oh please, you love me," I say, swinging my legs. My hair has come loose again and instead of tucking it back, Ryan just moves it and holds it against the side of my face for a while. He looks me straight in the eye.

"You're upset," he says calmly. I duck my head. I knew he'd notice.

"I'm fine," I say.

"Your eyes are gray," he says, lifting my chin up. I look determindly in the other direction. My eyes are blue naturally but they go gray when I'm upset. Ryan is the only person to ever pick up on that. I snuggle into him and he wraps a blanket around us. The wind is stronger here and I shiver. He pulls me closer.