I had no idea how to respond. I felt hollow at his words. Somewhere, deep inside, I knew he was right; I did feel that way. It was obvious he was trying to make it clear that we were friends and nothing else. I sighed, realizing that I did, in fact, feel something more for him, but now I felt guilty, too. I should never have let myself feel that way. Ryland was my best friend, and somehow I had let my feelings change without even realizing it. It almost seemed like a betrayal of trust.
“No, Ryland, it wasn’t that at all!” I tried to force a smile. “I love the necklace, but I know we’re… I mean, I understand…” I looked up to him in a desperate attempt to find the right words and felt my heart sputter again.
He was looking at me, bright blue depths boring into mine with a look I had never seen before. His face screwed up in a heart-stopping half-smile that revealed a tiny dimple. I could feel my face fall again.
I grabbed the necklace from underneath my sweater and tried to screw my face back into a smile rather than the shocked disappointment I was sure I displayed. “I can give it back, Ryland. It’s okay.”
Ryland’s hands shot across the small table to land on mine, hindering my intent to remove it. “No, Jos,” he whispered, “I don’t ever want you to take it off. Can you promise me that? That you will never take it off?”
I nodded, and his smile widened. He kept his hand on mine, his gaze smoldering me before I broke away and went to staring at my bowl of ever mushier Fruit Loops.
“So, what is wrong?”
I chanced a glance at him before returning to stare at my Fruit Loops. I didn’t know what to tell him, or even how much. After my mother’s reaction, I worried he would blow me off, too. I sighed and poked at a mushy red ring of cereal in my bowl.
“Joclyn, you can tell me,” he said, his voice low and comforting.
I felt that familiar wave of relaxing warmth I always got from Ryland, my resolve returning.
“My father,” I said.
“Your father?” His confusion was understandable. We never talked about my father, just as we never talked about his mother. They were both kind of taboo topics.
“He sent me a letter for my birthday.” I decided that I could be more truthful with Ryland than with my mother. I still had to keep some key details from him; he had no idea about my ugly mark, and I didn’t want him to find out. “But don’t tell my mother,” I added. “I only told her he made contact with my grandparents.”
“What did the letter say?” Here, again, was something I couldn’t answer with the full truth. I focused on his dark curly hair, not wanting to look at him again, worried I would lose myself in his eyes for yet another time.
“He referred me to a cult.” I dropped my head into my hands as the desperation over everything that had happened since Thursday night came crashing down on me. I needed to pull it together.
“Oh, Jos, I am so sorry.” I heard his chair scrape against the linoleum as he rushed over to me and gathered me in his arms, moving into my chair and sitting me on his lap. His strong arms wrapped around me, pressing me into his chest.
I buried my face in his shirt, the smell of a million bonfires and a million rugby practices consuming me. I could hear the steady thrumming of his heart as it echoed through my head, the rhythm calm and soothing. It did more than mend my frayed emotions; it told me it was okay to feel them. His arms held me tightly, his rough hands moving over my back. He moved his head down to rest on mine, surrounding me with a blanket of warmth, love and comfort. Only, that blanket was Ryland.
My heart rate didn’t increase; instead it steadied as my emotions evened out. Ryland’s touch was some sort of perfect drug that took all my pains and worries away. We stayed like that until my Fruit Loops had become a rainbow mush. Even though my frayed emotions had calmed, I didn’t want to move; I felt so comfortable in his arms. I could tell he didn’t want to move either; his arms held me against him, his tense muscles making a comfortable pillow. I sighed into him and he rotated his head to kiss the top of mine.
His lips brushed against my hair, his hot breath sending a warm tickle of joy down my spine, and I shivered. His chest heaved as he laughed, the sound echoing through my ears. My stomach tensed into a tightly wound basket as his lips began trailing across my head toward my temple. He breathed against the skin there, and the basket inside of me snapped. I jumped up out of his arms, leaving him looking lost, sitting alone in the chair. Necklace or no, he had just made it clear that our relationship had to be purely platonic, and I didn’t like the summersault my stomach was now doing.
“I have to get dressed,” I sputtered as I fled from the room, my head spinning.
I moved the few steps to my room and shut the door behind me. I stood there, my back to the door as my heart rate steadied. I wasn’t sure what had just happened. Okay, that was a lie; I knew exactly what had happened. Had I not jumped up, Ry would have kissed me. My stomach did a joyful swoop at the thought. Did I want him—Ryland LaRue, my best friend—to kiss me? I pictured myself kissing him, his hands against my face, his soft lips pressed against mine. I slid to the floor as my legs forgot how to support me. Obviously, I did. I really, really did. This was bad.