“Carrie, I wasn’t always like this.”

“Good in bed? Bad at blurting out feelings? Wasn’t always like — ohhhhhh,” I say, grasping his meaning. “You mean your high school graduation picture.”

“My huh?”

“Tessa showed me. Class of 2008.” I do the math. 2008 - 2001 (my graduating class) = 7 years age difference. When I’m old and wrinkly, he’ll be seven years less old. Less wrinkly. Then again, I have longer life expectancy, so the balance favors me.

Ryan sits up sharply, the covers falling off our bodies. I look down, soft moonlight giving us a stippled glow, our legs tangled. “Tessa showed you? I’ll kill her.”

“No — Ryan, it’s actually good. It helped me to understand. And you look like a lot of the guys I liked back in high school.”

The shy look he gives me makes my heart say Awwwww “I’ve changed a lot since then.”

“Haven’t we all?”

“More on the outside than the inside,” he says, clearing his throat. “I didn’t realize it until you were available and I could take a chance. Tell you how I felt. Suddenly, though, it was all too — ”

“Real?” I interrupt, snuggling against his chest, listening to his heart. Who knew pillow talk could be so revealing? When Jamey and I talked after sex, it was mostly about the new deCordova museum art exhibit or whether Blue Ginger was still worth the hike out to Wellesley.

Ryan talks about feelings. Naked. Feelings and nakedness combined are lovelier than any new trend.

His hand strokes my shoulder. “Yes. And I’m sorry I ran away from the wedding. That really was cowardly of me. I heard you and Chloe at the reception. You told her we weren’t compatible.”

“No, I didn’t!”

“Yes, you did. But that’s all in the past.”

“Ryan! I told her we weren’t compatible on the surface, but deep down we were.”

“I know. Chloe told me.”

“You talked about me with my boss?” My self-respect starts Irish dancing in my throat.

“I went to O to resign, and Chloe — ”

“You resigned?”

“Yes. I really am moving back to California.” He squeezes my hand. “With you.”

“California.” My words sound breathy, like an ocean breeze. A Pacific Ocean breeze.

“Stanford it is. My mother is going to love you.” He kisses my temple.

“Your mother?”

“My dad’s sick. She wants me to move back home anyhow. So I’ll go for Stanford instead of Cal Tech.”

“We’re both moving to San Francisco.” I sit up and stare at him, heedless of my bare breasts, suddenly comfortable being on display. Enjoying it, even. “Less than an hour ago I was eating takeout and hating on Dermot Mulroney. Now I’m naked, in your arms, and you’re talking about moving to San Francisco with me to start a new life.”

He smiles. It’s electrifying. “Sounds about right.” His arms tighten, pulling me closer.

“Don’t you think it’s all kind of… fast?”

“No. We wasted two years, C-Shel. I can’t be with you fast enough.” Tension fills his body, all of the parts of me touching him shifting as he turns into one giant, gorgeous rock. “Unless you’re having second thoughts.”

“What? No! Hell, no.” I crawl up him, my bare belly against his, straddling him as we kiss, a deep wet affair that leaves me with no doubt that Ryan’s ready for round two, should one of us call for it. “Fast isn’t fast enough for me, either.”

“You look incredibly beautiful,” he says softly, as our heart rates slowly return to normal, our kiss a seal on a deal we’ve been waiting to make.

A self-conscious laugh escapes me. “Yeah, no…”

I know for sure — I’ve heard from Jamey and his predecessors — that this is not my best look. Messy hair that I should have washed today, flushed face, lipstick long gone (was I even wearing any?), maybe a little sweaty…

What is he doing now? Ryan flips on top of me, pinning me in place, but he has twisted sideways and he’s rummaging on the floor next to the bed. He comes up with his phone in one hand and swipes at the screen with his thumb.

“What are you doing?” I crane my neck, trying to see what’s on the other side of the phone.

He slides over next to me and holds the phone at full arm’s length. His face is pressed right next to mine and he is smiling at the screen, which reflects us.

I know what this is, and I screech “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” as I yank the bedsheet up over my face, trying unsuccessfully to stop the selfie from being taken.

“I am saving this moment forever. For all time. So someday I can show you how gorgeous you are and how much we love each other. In case you ever forget.” A heated kiss follows his words, tongues dancing, mouths saying more than we can in any other way.

“But it’s my mission,” he adds as he pulls away, leaving me open-mouthed and panting, “to make sure you never, ever forget.”

I close my mouth. I narrow my eyes. I drop the sheet. This is me, trusting him. After all, making things look better is in my blood.

A huge smile spreads across my face as he pulls me in the frame, as is, perfect just as we are, rumpled and disheveled, wild and free.

Click

* * *

;)

* * *

Dear Readers: a huge thank you to all of you. Elisa and I deeply appreciate your taking the time out of your busy lives to read Ryan and Carrie’s story. If you haven’t read Our Options Have Changed, which is Nick and Chloe’s book, we encourage you to grab your copy now and sink into their unconventional tale:

Our Options Have Changed

About Julia Kent

Text JKentBooks to 77948 and get a text message on release dates!

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julia Kent turned to writing contemporary romance after deciding that life is too short not to have fun. She writes romantic comedy with an edge, and new adult books that push contemporary boundaries. From billionaires to BBWs to rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every book she writes, but unlike Trevor from Random Acts of Crazy, she has never kissed a chicken.