The bright flash of light blinds me. The distinct sound of clicking fills my ears. I hide my face in his neck, realizing a second too late what I’ve done.
They’re like vultures, getting closer, blocking Cole’s attempt to get me into the car. He isn’t saying anything, neither of us answering the same question being asked repeatedly. “Are you back together?”
I scream at the top of my lungs as soon as he shuts my door. I count the seconds until he’s inside. Thirty seconds pass and then a minute. I turn and look. Is he talking to them? Are they blocking his way to the door?
He finally opens his door. The flashes start again. They are taking photos of me, shoeless and dirty with road grime. I know I said I didn’t care, but that was before. Now I’m screwed.
“What the hell was that?”
He shakes his head as he starts his car. He’s careful not to hit any of the paparazzi. If it were me, I’d run them over.
“That was me saving you. I just thought I had more time.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Ian called. Someone saw you walking down the street without your shoes. They told him you were going in and out of different bars and were staggering.”
“Bull crap. No one knew I was out here but you. You set this up.”
He pulls into my hotel and is out of the car before I can protest. My door opens and the valet helps me out. He takes one look at me and smirks. Jerk.
Cole follows me in, his hand on the small of my back. I want to push him off, but I owe him a thank you for saving me. He follows me into the elevator. I take one side, he on the other. I’m not sure why he’s still here. He could’ve gotten off on the next floor, but he’s still with me.
The car dings on my floor and he steps behind me. “What are you doing?” I ask without turning around. He pushes me forward when the door slides open, directing me down the hall.
My mouth drops when he opens my door. He smiles as he holds it open.
“Ian thinks you’re about to head back east. I’m here to stop you.”
CHAPTER 25
Ryan
I’m avoiding the cafeteria today. It’s not because of the meatloaf or lumpy white pile of gunk that they call potatoes, but because Dylan told me I need to lookup Hadley on the Internet. When I asked her why, she rested her hand on my arm and looked at me like I had just lost my dog.
I thought maybe the usual suspects would be talking about her in class. I tried to pick up on conversations, but no one was saying anything. I resolve that I need to go to the library and find out why Dylan would tell me to lookup Hadley.
I sign in at the desk, showing the librarian my student ID and wait for her to assign me a computer.
As I pull out the chair and sit down the machine stares at me, mocks me really, because I don’t know what I’m doing. I haven’t felt the need to search Hadley on the computer before, so why am I here now? I lean my head back and close my eyes. I picture her, in a dress and the cowboy boots she loves so much, leaning up against the oak tree outside of church. I’m standing there with her, my arm above her head. I like that I’m taller than her. I like that she has to look up at me.
We haven’t spoken in twenty-four hours. I’ve ignored her because I’m angry and jealous. I knew this was going to happen. I knew that someone would come along and show her that I can’t offer her anything. I’m a high school student going nowhere fast. Destined to be a shop foreman like the Stones before me, a family legacy that I have zero desire to be part of. What really sucks is that I’m powerless to stop either from happening.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I know it’s Hadley. She knows it’s lunchtime. We talk at this time every day so why would today be any different? Because yesterday she told me she’s going on tour with her ex-boyfriend and not just any ex, but one that she lived with. I know in my haste of being pissed off, I brought up sex. I can’t help it. There are things that I want to try with her, but she doesn’t let me. She stops me each time we’re getting somewhere and I have all these…I don’t know, urges, running through me and when I touch her, they increase and make me feel good. She makes me feel good. I just want to be with her.
I pull out my phone, her gorgeous face smiling at me. I ignore the call. One of these times I’m going to make a mistake by ignoring her. She’ll just text me that we’re done, that I’m childish and immature and not ready to handle an adult relationship. And she’s right. I am.
My phone vibrates, this time with a text.
I love you, Ryan. I miss you. Please, we need to talk before it’s too late.
Too late? What the hell does that mean? I hadn’t realized we were on some type of time limit.
Too late for what?