I’m fuming, positively infuriated. My hands are shaking too much to eat. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ryan talking with Lawrence. He looks up then and sees Jocelyn walking away from me; I can practically feel him burning with anger. In the reflection of my glass, I see him break off the conversation with Lawrence and head across the crowded dance floor to find me.
I’m not ready to talk. I need a minute to think, to process, to calm down. Pretending I don’t see him, I make my way quickly, casually across the dance floor and slip into the ladies’ room just as he reaches the dessert table.
I poke my head out of the door and watch as he runs a hand through those gorgeous locks, his eyes scanning the crowd, likely searching for me, and my heart pangs with longing. More than lust, more than desire, it’s something deeper.
Ryan, as a whole, fits me. He matches me, and I match him, but the timing is all wrong, and that fact breaks my heart.
The first tear slips down my cheek, and I recoil into the restroom, locking the stall door behind me. I put down the toilet seat and collapse onto it, my chest breaking open with sobs. Maybe there’s a way to make this work; nothing is impossible, as they say, but it sure feels like it in this moment.
I want everything—my career, Ryan, and Ryan’s career.
However, those three things don’t work together in any sort of logical semblance. He signs with Jocelyn, and he breaks up with me. He doesn’t sign with her, and we live with some sort of doomed long-distance relationship. I could move here, but what about my career? My family, Lisa…the life I’ve built is there.
As my tears dry and my sobs expire, I’m left weak, tired, and exhausted by the entire evening, but at least I’ve come to some sort of conclusion.
It’s early enough in the relationship that it shouldn’t hurt too much to call things off with Ryan. We’ve only been dating officially for less than twenty-four hours. I’ll call it off now, let him sign with Jocelyn, and maybe down the line, things will work out for us. One can hope.
In the meantime, I’m going to spend my last night enjoying Ryan, his presence, his comfort, and then tomorrow, I’ll leave with clean-cut ties. My flight is early in the morning, so I’ll tell him then.
I wonder, as I leave the stall, if I’d have come here in the first place if I’d known the goodbye would be so hard.
CHAPTER 45
Andi
The ride home is a quiet one. After I gathered myself in the restroom, reapplied some mascara and lip gloss, and wished the smiling newlyweds a good night, Ryan and I left.
He holds my hand tight throughout the drive. I ask once if he’s okay, and he grits out a short yes. I wonder what happened between him and Jocelyn tonight, if he tried to change her mind. It doesn’t matter anyway—her mind obviously wasn’t changed.
Clearly neither of us are in a chatty mood, so I pass the time by watching the stars fly by the window.
The previous night, the stars had seemed so bright, so warm, so hopeful in their very nature. Tonight, however, they look like icicles pricking through the black night sky, poking holes in what was pure happiness just hours before.
“Do you want to shower?” Ryan asks once we’re in his room. He’s busy taking off his tie, and though I suspect he’s not upset with me, he’s too frustrated to untie the knot. “I’ll get in after you.”
I move across the room and silently help him out of the tie, then the jacket, and rest them both on the bed. He watches my motions in the mirror, his eyes soaking in every detail. It’s almost uncomfortable, as if he can see through me, straight to my core.
When he’s free of his troublesome outer layers, I offer a smile and make my way toward the bathroom.
I turn at the door and pause to watch him for a moment. He’s sitting on the bed, head in his hands. The look on his face nearly rips my heart out of my chest, and I know what he’s thinking.
It’s me or the game.
Well, I’m not going to force him to make that choice.
“I’m sorry,” he says when he sees me staring. “I’m not upset with you, it’s…Jocelyn, she’s—”
“I know,” I say. Then, I lie. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay.”
I rest against the doorframe. I can’t wait until morning. “I don’t think we should do this.”
His head jerks up. “What are you talking about?”
“Us. Me and you.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Andi?”
“Look, Ryan, I came out here as a joke. This whole thing started as a joke. If I weren’t such a crappy, clumsy delivery girl, none of this ever would have happened. Let’s just call it what it is: a good time.”
He stands, his eyes blazing, hard now, unlike the melted chocolate look that takes over when he is aroused, happy, or otherwise pleased. “That’s not what this is at all. I love you, Andi.”
“You think you love me,” I say. “It’s not real. We’ve been pretending so long that it’s easy to say.”
“Do you love me?”
I remain silent. Of course I do, but I can’t tell him that. My heart is heavy, a stone in my chest as I look him in the eyes. “It doesn’t matter. We’re not meant to be. Those are the facts.”
“What did she say to you?”
“She?”
“Jocelyn.” He stands, moves across the room. “What did she tell you tonight?”
“Nothing,” I lie again.
“It was about the deal, wasn’t it? That I have to give you up to sign with her? Well, I’m not going to do it.”
“It’s not about that.”
“I should have told her tonight. I just didn’t want to cause a scene at my brother’s wedding.” He looks down, shaking his head. “I’m an idiot.”
“I trust you.” Despite my words, he looks so flustered. I reach out and cup my hand against his cheek. “But that doesn’t change the other things. So what if you turn her down? You live here, and I live there.”
“Stay.”
“I…” It takes a second to register. “What?”
“Stay here, with me. I’ll decline anything with Jocelyn—that doesn’t matter anyway. I’m happy here, playing for the Stars. Stay by my side. Live with me in Minnesota.”
I swallow, and the words that come next are hard. “But what about me, Ryan? What about my dreams? My dad, my friends, school, my career—I have a real chance at making comedy work. If I stay, I’m giving all of that up.”
His eyes are hollow. “I can’t ask you to give any of that up.”
“And I’m not asking you to give up hockey for me.”
“Where does that leave us?”
My eyes smart, and I blink back tears, my soul splitting as I step toward him. My hands clasp his face, and I bring my lips to his in a tender moment.
The kiss is soft, full of all that could be, but never will…full of memories we’ll never make, full of the relationship we’ll never have, the laughs we’ll never share. Instead, stung with its sweetness, strands of pain seep into my very essence. We are right for each other, so very right—but at the wrong time.
When I pull back, his eyes are still closed, his lips pursed in the lingering semblance of a kiss, as if his very world will shatter when he opens his eyes. The illusion will be gone, and the painful truth of reality will set in and drag both of us down with it.
I rise up on my tiptoes, rest my hand on the back of his head, and leave one last brush of my lips against his forehead.