Getting There Ch. 07

Gemma ran up to Ryan's bedroom, and sat on the floor with her back against the door. She pulled out her phone and called Rachel.

"The little bitch." She replied after hearing Gemma describe the afternoon's events. "That venomous little snake."

Gemma giggled as Rachel did her best to distract her best friend, although she was fully aware that Sophie's constant bitchiness was beginning to wear Gemma down.

"Now get back out there and don't for a second listen to a word she says. Okay?" Rachel ordered.

"Yeah, I'll do my best. Thanks." Gemma walked over to the mirror and composed herself.

...

Back in the kitchen, she brought out some pastries that she had collected from the patisserie on the high street. As she made her way out, she noticed that Sophie was looking at her with disdain. Gemma smiled at her and offered her the plate of pastries. She pointed at the dark chocolate tart. "You might want to watch out... that one's a little bitter." Gemma said, wryly.

Ryan grinned at her and pushed his hands into his pockets. He walked towards her slowly and gave her a peck on the lips. He took the plate from her and set it down on the table and she allowed him to scoop her up into a loving hug, while his parents looked on with smiles on their faces. Sophie, on the other hand, wasted no time in gathering her things together and announcing her departure. Her husband, Mark, clenched his jaw shut.

"Sophie, there is no need to be rude." Her father, usually incredibly jovial, remarked. "I think you are right to be leaving, especially after being such an ungracious guest. I'm surprised Gemma didn't kick you out herself."

Sophie's face had turned scarlet. She marched out of the front door, letting it slam shut behind her leaving her toddler and husband behind. Mark looked aghast. He nodded at Gemma by way of apology and took his son to the car, bidding the rest of the family farewell.

..

By the time everything was tidied away, and Ryan's parents had left, it was terribly late. Gemma rubbed her eyes as she looked at the delicate silver watch on her wrist. Ryan pulled her on to his lap and kissed her softly. She allowed herself to get lost in the taste of his mouth, the way his hands were sliding up her thighs... He pulled away, pushing her hair out of her eyes, and looked into them. He opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out, well, nothing but a barely audible whisper. But his lips moved, and Gemma's eyes caught their every movement. There was no mistaking it. She kissed him hard, and moaned into his mouth, "I love you, too."

..

Summer had faded into autumn in what had felt like a blink of an eye, and it wasn't long until Ryan found himself pacing up and down on the pavement outside a French restaurant in Hampstead one evening in mid November. He called Gemma's phone again. "This is the Vodafone voicemail service for Oh-Seven-Seven-Three..."

He redialed.

"This is the Vodafone voicemail service for Oh-Sev..."

And again.

"This is the..."

His brow furrowed. The rain poured relentlessly, and the wind was blowing so hard that his umbrella was rendered useless. He sighed, and tried her number again. The familiar voicemail greeting played. This time, he left a message: the sixth of the night. "Babe, it's me. I'm worried. Are you okay?"

"Mr Lewis, I'm sorry, but it is restaurant policy not to hold a table for more than forty minutes. Would you like to start alone or would you like to give the table up?" The maître d' asked, patiently.

Ryan reluctantly gave up his reservation. He'd had this evening all planned out, he had something to ask Gemma and this would have been perfect. Good food, great wine. Casual enough to not be intimidating, polished enough to know he was serious.

He panicked for a moment. Maybe she had stood him up intentionally? But things had been going so well... He called her house phone to check. It rang and rang and rang. Just then, he heard the clicking of heels against the pavement. He looked over his shoulder and saw Gemma walking towards him. She was wearing black high heeled boots, with her dark blue skinny jeans tucked into them, and an olive-green trench coat fastened at the waist, accentuating her hourglass figure. Her dark hair was drenched, hanging either side of her face, her mascara running and her cheeks rosy with the bitter wind. He could tell she was cold and miserable. She spotted him on the pavement and ran towards him kissing him passionately.

He kissed her back, of course. Unfastening her coat and sliding his hand beneath her sweater and top, finding her nipples, tweaking them with his cold hands. She felt flushed and kissed him harder. She rubbed her thigh against his crotch. She felt the bulge in his jeans. She pulled away. "Sorry." She said, biting her bottom lip.

Ryan laughed. "That's okay, let's go dry you off." He took her by the hand and they walked back to his place.

"AND THEN since the trains weren't working AND I couldn't get a taxi I had to run for a bus, and I was just about to make it when my blackberry fell into a puddle." She sat wearing one of Ryan's sweatshirts and a pair of his socks as she sipped on her rum and coke. Ryan was trying to salvage her contacts from her phone sitting on the floor next to her.

"What happened next?" Ryan teased, he loved how she got so animated while narrating stories.

"So then I had to wait fifteen minutes for the next bus." Gemma replied, not taking his bait. "I really am sorry I messed this up, babe." She added, quietly.

Ryan tilted her chin up, and kissed the tip of her nose, which was still a little bit red from the cold. "There was something I wanted to ask you tonight, Gem." He said. "I know we haven't been together long..."

Gemma felt flustered. She set the glass down on the table and looked at her boyfriend intently.

"And I wanted to ask you somewhere special." He continued.

"Ryan.." she knew what was coming next and she smiled, tears filling her eyes.

"I suppose this is probably the perfect setting, in a strange way, isn't it? I've loved you forever and I will love you forever. This house is as much yours as it is mine, and I want it to be that way for the rest of our lives." Ryan slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box.

"Yes." Gemma said.

"I didn't ask you yet," Ryan laughed.

"Oh hurry up and do it then." Gemma giggled back.

"Gemma..." he began, opening the box. "Will you marry me?"

He slipped the ring on her finger as she said yes, kissed her while she cried with happiness, and carried her up to their bedroom.