She shakes her head at me. “Nothing I didn’t deserve. I’ll be OK, Ransom. I just need—”
“Another minute?” I finish for her.
She exhales shakily, and the cinnamon smell of my toothpaste engulfs me. “I guess. I don’t know.” She finds her palms interesting in that moment. I glance down and take them in. They’re small but steady and strong. “I don’t know how to recover from this betrayal.”
“Betrayal? Who betrayed you? What happened?”
She traces a pattern on her hand before sighing. “It’s not important. I’ll get over it. It just … hurts.”
Surely it couldn’t be as bad as all that. “Maybe it’s not as bad as you’re thinking. Maybe you got your wires crossed. A misunderstanding?”
Nodding, she looks back up at me. “Yeah, that’s it. A misunderstanding.”
She’s too quick to agree with me. I frown at her. “Bullshit.”
“Yep, that was bullshit.” And I earn myself a tiny grin.
I narrow my eyes. “You just don’t want to talk about it. And would say anything to get me to drop it, right?” I joke.
Another tiny grin. Why did that make me feel like I hung the damn moon? I somehow refrain from grinning with pride and continue, “I guess I really only need to know one thing. Did anyone hurt you … physically?”
She maintains eye contact, her eyes hardening before she mumbles, “No.” She doesn’t like look she’s lying, so I just nod and relax. I didn’t realize how tense I was, waiting for her answer. I was ready to kick some necessary ass on her word. I may not like her very much, but I wouldn’t let that pass. “But I did,” she confesses and flips her hand over, showing me her swollen knuckles. “You’d be proud. I threw the punch from my core.”
“You hit someone?” I marvel, as I run my thumb over her hand.
She shrugs. “Yep. Deserved it. And it wasn’t my first time to throw a punch at a face.”
“We’ll get you some ice, and then I guess I can bring you to your dorm.” Her semi-relaxed state morphs right before my eyes. Her eyes shift from mine. She takes a deep breath and folds in on herself a little. That scares her for whatever reason. I can’t imagine why. It’s just a bunch of girls. Then it hits me. It’s the girls who’ve hurt her. Not a guy. They must have upped their game. I guess a person could really only take so much. “Unless you want to stay here,” I hear myself utter. Her eyes dart back up. Shit. Really? What the hell’s wrong with me?
Her relief is even more visible than her tensing a second ago. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, I’ll sleep on the couch. You can sleep in here.” Her eyes tighten, but she nods her head.
“Thank you, Ransom. For everything. I know you … don’t like me much.”
My hand finds her knee and gives it a quick squeeze, but not quick enough. It registers immediately that I like how soft she is. “Hey, don’t worry about any of that. Water under the bridge.”
“Really, Ransom?” she says with hope this time.
“Really. Let’s call a truce, yeah?”
“Yeah.” She nods her head somewhat enthusiastically. “I’m sorry for being a bitch.”
“I’m sorry for being an ass. Or … what was it?” I tap my chin thoughtfully while a little blush steal over her cheeks. Holy shit! A blushing Denver? That has to be a first. And that does more for me than the bikini-clad Denver or even the badass, barrel racer Denver. “A jerk of a thousand shades.” I laugh, remembering her insult. “Can you really think of a thousand nuances?” She opens her mouth, her nerves practically bubbling out. “Hey, I’m kidding. I thought it was funny. Later. Much later.” That actually gets me a little laugh.
Pete comes home before I can text him. I ask him to let Maggie know what’s going on while I brief him on the situation.
After I get settled on the couch, I realize it’s around four in the morning. I don’t think much else because I promptly pass out, but not before a pair of sad, honeyed eyes float through my mind.
I don’t know how long I’m asleep before a blood-curdling scream jars me from my dream.
Sprinting toward my room with a pronounced limp, my heart is lodged firmly in my gut when I get to her. Pete meets me at the door, looking wild. I shrug and throw the door open. She’s quieted herself, so I don’t turn on the light. The moonlight casts a glow over a very still Denver. A too-still Denver, for someone who’s just released that scream. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I’d dreamt it. Once my eyes adjust better, I can see that her eyes are moving steadily and her body is frozen, yet stretched completely out on my bed. I hobble over to the bed and sit beside her, reaching out and trying to wake her.
“Hey, Denver, you’re dreaming. Wake up,” I say gently. I don’t want to scare her any worse.
She thrashes around a little at the sound of my voice. I run my hands up and down her arms and hear her murmur the name Blake, which makes my teeth clench. Who the fuck is Blake? Another one of her “friends”?
I shake her a little harder on that thought. Did I think things had suddenly changed between us because of her vulnerable moment? If so, I’m stupider than I thought. “Denver,” I say gruffly. Finally, her eyes edge open.
“Greer?” she asks, obliviously confused. Fuck, how can she keep all their names straight?
“Nope, Ransom,” I mutter and hear the door close behind me.
“Ransom?”
“Yeah, you’re staying at my place. Remember? Bad night filled with evil bitches?”
Suddenly, she sits straight up and wraps her arms around me tightly. I hold my arms out to the side until she whispers, “Oh, thank God it’s you, Ransom.”
I am high at her relief that’s it me. I shouldn’t give a damn, but … damn. She whispers my name like a prayer, and it goes straight to my head like the purest form of oxygen. I wrap my arms around her and drop a kiss on the top of her head and know that I’m screwed. All that I buried for her is, not-so slowly, fighting its way to the surface. I can feel it clawing and scraping and freeing itself. “It’s all good. You’re OK.” I squeeze her in response to her squeezing of me. She turns her face and buries it my chest, breathing deeply. I shudder and gently push her away from me. I can only take so much.
“You good?”
She nods but then says, “Stay? With me. Please.”
“I don’t know—”
“It’s OK,” she rushes out, and panic registers in her eyes as she starts pushing me off the bed. “I don’t know what I meant, saying that. It’s fine. I’m fine.”
I chuckle. She’s anything but fine. I grab her wrists and still her arms. “I’ll stay.” I contemplate putting a shirt on, but don’t decide quickly enough because she’s flipped her wrists and is pulling me down next to her.
Chapter Twenty-four
Denver
KEEPING MY EYES closed upon waking, I pray that when I finally do open them, I won’t be in Ransom’s room, his won’t be the warm body I’m wrapped around, and I won’t have forever lost the only person who’s ever tried to love me.
Lost.
Destroyed.
Scorched into nothingness.
I just don’t get how he could hurt me like that. That’s not true. I so got it. I was the lost one. Destroyed him in the process. And scorched us into nothingness. His actions were merely reactionary. A wrecking ball only goes the direction you send it. It was only fair that it had come crashing back into me full force.
That acceptance didn’t mean his betrayal hurt any less.
I can’t wallow in that though. I’ve got to get up and move on. Both figuratively and literally. What was I thinking last night? I practically begged Ransom not to make me leave and then begged him again to sleep with me.
Question is … how do I extract myself from him and make my great escape without waking him up? I look down our bodies and gauge how thoroughly we are tangled with each other. My bottom leg is thrown over his. His top leg snakes around mine. My arms are squeezed between our chests like I’m gearing
up to box him, but his arms are wrapped firmly around me. One of his hands threads through my hair, and the other rests on my lower back. Ransom’s a cuddler? Who’d have thought it?
And it makes me feel … safe. I feel so safe in this moment. How I can feel this way in his arms after he’s been so damn mean to me, truly boggles the mind. I shake my head back and forth a little, and thoughts of how good he was to me last night rattle around. The way he helped me had been kind of funny. I could tell he really didn’t want to, but his manners had won out.
I am so numb though. Under normal circumstances I’d have given all that attitude back, but I just couldn’t last night. That had worked out in my favor since I can’t imagine anyone else would’ve helped me without a ton of questions. Questions I just wasn’t ready to answer yet. I don’t even know the answers myself right now. I just know I hurt.
Greer.
My golden boy.
Gone.
Tears spring up again. Damn. I can’t believe I have any left after last night. Suck it up. You’ve got to get out of here.
Slipping my legs from his, I twist my middle and scoot. His legs and one arm fall away, but his one hand is still twisted in my hair. I wind my hand through and work to free his. Ow! It’s like his hand is fisted back there. I finally extract myself. Easing down to the end of the bed, I look over my shoulder at him.
He’s stretched out on his back now. The sheet had fallen, exposing him from the waist up. His is such a strange attractiveness. It’s like God had put together all the imperfect qualities he could think of to make this perfect-looking human being. Then Ransom had gone and adorned that perfectness with his own works of art—those glorious tattoos.
I’ve never really been able to study them before, but boy had I wanted to. Dark black barbed wire stretches across his biceps, and scrolls lick their way up both of his arms in an arrangement that didn’t make much sense to me, but, among them were representations of meaningful bits of his life—a bull, a cross, a cowboy hat, the number eight. I know there’s more, but no more are visible from here. He has those gorgeous sleeves, but then his chest and the rest of his body, all that I’d seen anyway, remain untouched. My eyes roam across his bare chest that had been kissed by the sun quite a bit, making the silver scar running along his collarbone shimmer. Most people appear vulnerable in their sleep, but not Ransom. He still looks like the badass he is. I can’t help the light sigh that my body releases.
I glance around the room, finally taking in my surroundings. It’s surprisingly neat and clean with very little adorning it—a couple of rodeo posters and one of a boxer. His array of cowboy hats hangs from the pegs on one wall. Underneath a few of them, hang his bull ropes.
Slipping out of the bed and out of the room, I close myself in the bathroom and pick up my clothes from last night. I should put them back on, but I’m not going to. Ransom will have to be OK with me borrowing his clothes. I slide the phone out of my pants pocket to call Maggie for a ride. I could walk, I guess, but really don’t feel up to it. I press the wake-up button but nothing. Great! I guess I’ll be walking home after all. I pull my socks and boots on quickly.
Finally, I look in the mirror and I look … normal, but I don’t feel normal anymore. Had I ever been normal though? Well, I don’t feel my version of normal. My hair’s a total disaster, so I quickly pull my fingers through it, combing it into submission. I splash some warm water on my face and run a toothpaste-covered finger over my teeth.
I should start my walk. Maybe I could find something and leave Ransom a note telling him thank you. He was incredible to me last night. I still can’t believe that. A small smile plays at my lips. There are good people out there.
Somehow, someway, I had to allow myself to find them and move on from people who hurt me. But the fact that I am the common denominator here plagues me, and the little nagging detail about me being unlovable rears its ugly head. Once thing’s for certain though—the way I’ve been trying to live my life wasn’t working out so much, so I need some kind of change.
Quietly, I ease open the bathroom door, turning the light out as I close it behind me. Turning back toward the hallway, I startle at a dark figure standing a few feet away. My hand flies to my throat, and a nervous laugh bubbles up when I register it’s just Ransom.
“Mornin,’” he greets with a small smile.
“Hi, umm … I was just heading out. I didn’t mean to wake you after everything you had to put up with last night.”
“Well, you did wake me.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmur.
He cups the nape of his neck, and his brow furrows. “When I realized you weren’t there … it scared me. I needed to know you were all right. How ‘bout that, huh?” He scratches his head and runs his hand back and forth over his cropped hair. “I guess I really meant what I said about bygones being bygones. I don’t want you hurting. So, how are you?”
“I’m … better. I really will be fine. I’ve recovered from worse than this.” Liar, liar.
“Yeah, then why you think it hit you so hard last night?”
My gaze flies to the floor as the confidence in my ability to overcome such a betrayal wavers. I was hit hard last night, and I really can’t imagine just getting over it. “I, um—”
He puts his hand on my chin, forcing me to look at him. Those green eyes knowing, yet unknowing. “Don’t downplay how you feel. You were obviously hurt last night. I saw it, and you don’t have to pretend otherwise. You don’t have to pretend with me.”
I swallow hard and nod. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“You’re welcome,” he says with a smile and a nod. “I’m gonna jump in the shower, and then I’ll make us something to eat before I take you to your dorm.”
“You don’t need to do that. It’s not far, so I can walk.”
Ransom moves in close, his hand sliding from my chin to cup my cheek, his fingertips resting on the nape of my neck. “Nothing I just said contained a single question. You can wait for me in the kitchen.”
Before I can respond, he’s moved around me and into the bathroom. I go to the kitchen to wait.
AFTER RANSOM MAKES me breakfast, he follows through on his promise to bring me back to the dorm. Our conversation en route is much the same as it was throughout our meal—highly personal, yet somehow, light and comfortable. He won’t allow me to give quick answers; he makes me explain why to my every response. He wants to know everything about me, like what I do for fun, my favorite songs, and my favorite candy, among other things. I suspect it is all a ruse to keep my mind off of what happened. It doesn’t quite work out like that, since almost every memory of mine features Greer, and thinking about all that quietly kills me because most of them are beautiful.
I lose myself a little bit as I consider what not having Greer in my life will look like—bleak and dreary and hopeless. A deep sigh works its way out of me.
“You’re going to be OK. You’re a little fighter,” Ransom says as he runs his thumb over the back of my hand. I glance at him in surprise when it dawns on me he hasn’t stopped touching me since last night. And he swore he’d never touch me again. I can’t help but laugh a little on that thought. He’s become my knight in shining armor despite my spouting that I didn’t need one of those. He’s completely unaware, though, since he has no idea how much he helped me. “You’re laughing—that’s a good sign.” His fingers thread their way through mine, and I stop laughing. I like that. Too much. I give him a squeeze and release him, placing my hands in my lap. He doesn’t retract his hand from the seat.
“Yeah, I guess it is.” I lean back against the headrest. “Thank you for everything last night, Ransom. I don’t think you get how much you helped me. I …” A sob has worked its way up my throat, and if I continue, I’ll start bawling again. So I just shut up instead. God, I’m sick of crying.
The truck comes to a stop. “Hey, little fighter,” he calls. I slant my head toward him and look up at him through my lashes because if I don’t, he�
�ll see the tears that have pooled in my eyes. I gaze in utter fascination as he swallows hard and stares at my lips. His eyes slowly make their way back up to mine. I love how alive they look. “You are one of the strongest, most bullheaded women I’ve ever met.” My grin is smug. “You are going to get past this and be pissing everybody off, including yours truly, in no time at all.”
I laugh in earnest at his assessment of me, and I bob my head in agreement.
He gives me one decisive nod, as though it will be that way because he has decreed it, and turns into our parking lot. I spot Maggie and Pete sitting on the steps. She’s sitting in front of him between his legs with her head thrown back. He has her in a lip lock.
“They’ve sure got it bad for each other.”
“They do,” I agree. Since I already told him thank you about a million times, I just hop out with my bundle of clothes. After I close his door, I give him a small wave through the window. He ducks his head and gives me a wink.
“Hey, you two,” I say, turning to the lovebirds I love so fiercely.
Maggie’s head jerks up, bumping Pete’s in the process. “Denver!” she screams as she propels herself off the steps and hugs me hard. “I was so worried. If I’d known there was trouble, I never would’ve left,” she rushes out.
“I know that,” I say as I hug her back. “It’s all good. I had a fight with Greer, but I’m fine. Ransom was good to me last night,” I assure her.
She pulls back, and Pete runs his hand over her wild hair as he moves around us to speak to Ransom. “I can’t believe he let you stay with him after everything.”
“I know. Me either. I was surprised, but he was … incredible.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Oh, Denver, are you gonna tell me what happened? I had to threaten to call the campus police since Greer wouldn’t leave here quietly. I’ve been so worried about you.”
I open my mouth to respond, but Pete cuts me off by calling her over to him. “Hold that thought,” she says as she kisses me on the side of my head and skips over to Pete and Ransom. She leans in and gives Ransom a kiss on his cheek. A stunned Ransom laughs at her while Pete frowns. When they all glance at me, I cringe and turn, running up the stairs.
Used (Unlovable, #1) (Unlovable Series) Page 22
