I’ll admit, I left them. But I get it now. I should have tried harder when it came to you. I should have called. I should have visited. I messed up, but I swear, I never left you.”
I pull off my cap and run my hand through my hair. He never left me. Beth’s right—I left him. My throat thickens. “I’ve missed you.” I shake my head, trying to find a way to say the next words. “I never cared that you’re gay, but I cared that you…that you left.”
“Yeah.” His voice becomes gruff. “I know.
It’s okay, Ry. Me and you, we’re okay.”
He stands and the action takes me off guard.
We’re Stones and Stone men don’t touch, but the moment he puts his hand on my arm, a tentative offer, I accept and allow him to pull me into his body. Our arms wind tight around each other for one brief second. I squint my eyes to combat the tears and when we release, we both retreat to opposite sides of the room.
“So.” Mark clears his throat and claps his hands together. “Tell me about Beth.”
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Beth
I DID GOOD. Me, Beth Risk—I did a good deed.
I would have made a great fucking girl scout and I so would have scored the Reunite Your Jock-Sorta-Boyfriend with His Jock-Gay-Brother badge. If they don’t make those, they seriously should. Ryan will look back in twenty years and not think of the girl that left in the dead of night. Nope, he’ll remember the girl that gave him back his brother.
I stare up at the gray clouds moving across the sky. Ryan and I lie on the banks of a large pond located on the back end of his father’s property. Just like everything else about Ryan, this spot is perfect. This day is perfect.
Propped up on an elbow, Ryan tucks a stray hair behind my ear, causing a warming tickle to caress my neck. I’m going to enjoy myself today. I’m going to laugh. I’m going to smile.
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I’m going to drop the chains that drag me down. Ryan’s a great guy and for some reason, he’s really into me. Or better, he’s really into the mirage he’s created.
“You’re beautiful,” he says.
“So are you.” He truly is. I reach up and take the baseball cap he’s been wearing backward off his head. He’s hot with his hat on. He’s gorgeous with it off. His mop of sandy hair blows with the breeze.
When I release the cap from my grasp, Ryan twines his strong hand with mine. Strong is an understatement. This hand can make a ball fly faster than most cars will ever go. His hand on my skin can make warmth curl in very private areas of my body.
“So…” Ryan says as he glances away and
attempts to look nonchalant. I know what’s eating him. On the way back from Lexington, he gave me more of his zombie story to read.
Waiting for my thoughts drives him insane. “I think George and Olivia will end up together.”
Five minutes. He couldn’t go five minutes outside his Jeep without asking. I try to keep from smiling, but I fail miserably. He catches it and his forehead furrows. “What?”
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I shrug. “You’re cute when you’re
anxious.”
“I’m not anxious.”
“I like it about you.” I like everything about Ryan. “The story was fabulous. Really. I’m sucked in when I read it, but I have to disagree with you. George and Olivia will not end up together.”
“Why not?”
“They live in two different worlds and
they’re sort of two different creatures. I mean—he’s a zombie and she isn’t.”
“But he loves her,” he says doggedly. “And she loves him.”
“George is going to walk away from
becoming the leader of his zombie friends for her?” I ask. “Come on, you have him wanting to be the leader so badly that he crossed his best friend for the title. And do you honestly believe Olivia is going to walk away from her family for him?”
“Her family sucks.” Ryan grins as if he won.
My stomach hurts like someone stabbed me.
“Yeah, but it’s still her family. I don’t think I could like her if she walked away. What does that say about a person?”
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“I think it says she’s willing to live her own life.”
Overhead, honking Canadian geese fly in a V formation and head south for the winter.
That’ll be me soon, but will I feel as free as they look? “I think it says she’s selfish. How can she walk away from her dad? He needs her.”
“He uses her,” says Ryan.
I shrug again, not a fan of conversations that go nowhere. Ryan loosens his grip on my hand and begins to trace the ribbon tied to my wrist.
He’s nervous and something deep within me nudges that it’s not about the story. “What’s going on?”
My anxiety level increases as Ryan
continues to outline the ribbon.
“I want us to be permanent,” he says. “I
don’t like the idea of you dating other guys.”
Panic seizes my chest and I feel suddenly claustrophobic. I’m leaving. Soon. As soon as Mom gets the car out of impoundment. A clamminess invades my hands and I
immediately roll away from Ryan. I need air.
Lots and lots of air.
I stumble to the edge of the pond and catch HC TITLE-AUTHOR