by Hall, Marie
But Ryan’s demons are dark and dangerous and something I’m terrified to get involved in, problem is… I think I already am. Because I can’t stop wondering, can’t stop trying to make sense of the madness that was that night. Why had he done it? What had forced him to a point in his life that he really thought he had no other choice?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Stepping out of the shower, I run my hand across the steamed up mirror. My cheeks are pink, hair clings to my face.
And maybe part of the reason why I can never seem to forget him is the fact that I always have to shower. Though my bathroom is full of butterflies and flowers, I don’t see any of those things. I see a white fluttering curtain, wet tile, and blood.
“Apurate, mija,” my mother calls, urging me to hurry. “You’ll be late for class. Ade made tortillas.”
“Coming, mama.” Turning my back on the mirror, I hurriedly dress in a pair of white shorts and a light yellow halter top.
After breakfast I turn to my son. He’s dressed, sitting on the ground and flipping through a comic book. My heart pitter patters at the sight of his soft wet curls around the nape of his neck.
Thank God he looks nothing like his father.
A half-eaten peanut butter sandwich sits on a plate next to his booted foot.
“Baby, you ready for school?”
He stops turning the pages and looks up, his eyes halting at my chest. Javi never looks in my eyes.
Putting on a brave face, I turn to Ade and mom. “Okay, I’m off. Wish me luck. Today I get to articulate a skeleton.”
“Didn’t you do that before?” Mom asks.
I shrug on my back pack. “Yeah, but I did that freshman year, I think they want to make sure we haven’t forgotten. Anyway.” I kiss my fingers and blow it at them.
“C’mon, baby.” I hold out my hand to Javi.
Standing, he grabs his comic, unzips his book bag and gently slides it in. He ignores my hand completely.
Hand hanging in midair, I bring it slowly back to my thigh and smile like it doesn’t bother me, but it does, it always does.
Three hours later I’m done articulating the bones. But I hadn’t liked it. I nailed the test, I know it, but it was an infant skeleton. It’d felt macabre. Some of the guys in my class had laughed, calling the bones cute.
To me they weren’t cute. They were the bones of a child a mother had lost. So when I stepped out onto the campus lawns, I was grumpy.
The day is warm. Hotter than it’d been the last few weeks, with temperature’s soaring past one hundred an hour ago, and that only made me crankier.
I need a drink.
And I know immediately where I’m going.
There’s a good chance he’s not even there.
My stomach flutters.
Really I have nothing to worry about.
But if I’m being honest I’d known I was going to go there this morning. It’s why I’d taken such care to look nice. Why my hands had been shaking all day. Biting down on my tongue, I cross the street, smelling the coffee long before I open the door.
I moan in appreciation.
It’s so bright outside it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust.
When they finally do, he’s there.
Not Alex.
But Ryan.
***
Ryan
I’m not ready to see her.
Maybe ever.
She walks into the coffee shop looking better than I’d remembered. Her hair is pulled back in a messy bun and she’s wearing a yellow crop top that shows a flash of belly at the bottom.
Gorgeous.
Knock out.
I close my eyes. Last time she’d seen me she’d seen the loser. The asshole who’d tried to off himself because he just couldn’t deal. I’m getting stronger every day. But I’m still not ready for this.
She looks over her shoulder, back at the door as if debating whether to leave. Like maybe I haven’t seen her yet.
“Damn me,” I mutter under my breath, knowing I should just let her pretend, make it easy on herself and me, but I don’t. Getting up from the table, I go to her.
She trembles, staring at me wide eyed, hugging her hands to her chest. Just like last time. Will I ever get her out of my head?
Slipping my hands into my pocket I stop a safe distance from her. “Hey.”
Worst line ever.
But it seems to work.
Her entire body inhales, then exhales, and a smile slips across her features, lighting her face. “Hi. Nice to see you again.”
My lips twitch, not sure how to respond. Grabbing my arm she gives it a gentle squeeze. “You look good. Healthy.”
Healthy.
Fan-fucking-tastic. Just what a man wants to hear.
Tunneling my fingers through my hair, knowing it makes it stand up every which way and not giving a damn, I nod. “Every day. Going through the twelve steps. In fact, I finish tomorrow.”
“Oh. That’s good.”
Rocking on her heels, she looks over my shoulder. This is starting to get awkward, not good. She wants to leave, I can sense it; fell her thoughts shiver through the air. A muscle ticks in my jaw, now that she’s here I don’t want her to go.
Hell, half the time I don’t know what I want anymore.
“Yeah, umm…” I scrub my jaw, “one of the twelve steps is to you know, apologize and crap.”
Those pink full lips I can’t stop obsessing about quirk. “Really?”
I lick my own. “Yeah.” Being bold, not sure why, I take a step closer.
She tenses, and again I know she’ll bolt if I push too far. Taking a trembling breath I stare down at her face memorizing each exotic line and plane of it. She has cat eyes, so green they remind me of spring. It’s hard to tell, but I’m pretty sure they aren’t contacts. I’ve never seen eyes like hers before. Not on someone of her skin tone.
I smile when I see the freckles. I’d dreamed about them last night. Kissing each perfect dot along the bridge of her nose as she’d panted, grabbed my ass, and the rest had been a blur of moans and skin. I’d woken up so hard it’d been a miracle I hadn’t shot off in my sheets. Hadn’t had one of those things happen in years. But the intensity of the dream had felt so real.
The shower hadn’t helped either, because I couldn’t go in without remembering how she’d held me.
Alex had told me everything. How, when she’d called, he’d immediately run home to find her still in the tub, her legs spread apart and me cradled between them.
I’d have given anything to have seen that for myself.
Which is probably pretty fucking disturbing on my part, but it’s the truth.
To my surprise she doesn’t flinch, or look away. In some ways she reminds me of a timid lamb, but in others, a fierce lioness.
She fascinates me.
“I’m sorry,” I say it slowly, drawing out the words, letting her feel the sincerity of them. It’s surprisingly easy to do.
When I’d had to do it with Alex, he’d given me shit about it for three days. Cold shoulder, cold food, and monosyllabic answers. Which I guess I deserved.
Her lashes flutter like a tiny paintbrush upon the tops of her cheeks.
“I still dream about it,” she admits in a quiet voice.
Green eyes swallow me up, look straight through me. I hate it. But I need it too. When I’m around her, I feel alive.
“Finding you. Holding you.” She clamps her lips shut and something in the region of my heart shakes.
Inhaling deeply, she gives me a grim smile. “Yeah, so. Thanks.”
She’s slamming the door, angling to get away. Taking a side step to the left, I know I’m a glutton, why can’t I just let her go?
“Have you had lunch yet?” My knuckles pop when I flex my fists.
I should just let her go. Let her walk out of my life forever. But for three months all I’ve thought about is her. Why she did it? Why she cared? I have to know.
“I know a better place.”
Her smile holds so many mysteries, unfathomable like the Mona Lisa’s smirk and I can’t help but return it.
“Better than the world’s best coffee?” There’s a note of doubt there in her tone.
“I’m pretty sure the place I’m thinking, has the market cornered on that. You like sushi?”
Pursing her lips tight, I can see the indecision warring on her face. “Coffee and Sushi? That’s like my kryptonite. Gross, but true.” She laughs. “You drive a really hard bargain. Fine. But,” she holds up a finger, “this isn’t a date. Got it?”
Grabbing it I gave it a quick squeeze. Her eyes widen and my blood thrums at the nebulous heat that zips between us.
“I never said it was,” I grin like I hadn’t felt it. Like I hadn’t noticed she’d felt it too. Like the world hadn’t just titled on its axis from the point of contact.
“Lily bean?” A familiar voice calls over my shoulder ruining the moment.
Her eyes tear from mine and a huge smile stretches across her face, looking almost like relief. She runs to Alex, jumping into his arms the moment he spreads them for her.
Their hug is quick but fierce and it’s a hammer blow to my gut.
Alex gives her a quick peck on the cheek and I’m seconds away from bum rushing my cousin. Thankfully she moves out of his arms before I act on it.
“Venti mocha latte soy with no cream?” Alex says, walking behind the counter and throwing a white dish rag over his shoulder.
“Actually, no.” She glances back at me and the smile she’d given Alex is no longer there, but there’s something else. Something that makes my breathing hitch. “Ryan’s asked me out to lunch.”
Dammit, the second she says it I know Alex is going to give me the look.
He whips his head up, and his eyes say clear as day to stay the hell away from her. Any other girl, Alex doesn’t care. But there’s something about Liliana that makes him crazy.
I take a step back.
Bro code says you don’t hit on the girl your buddy wants. But Alex swears there’s nothing there, tells me that over and over. But maybe I shouldn’t. She’s seen me in a horrible way, she knows something about me I wish she never did. Maybe I should stay out of her life, be content with the dreams and the possibility of what may have been.
“Don’t let him give you crap,” Alex cautions, never looking away from my face. And I know he’s giving me the green light, even if he doesn’t really want to.
“Don’t worry,” Lily tosses me a flirty grin and my heart almost stops beating, “I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself. Besides, I can never turn down sushi.”
Glancing at her wrist she says, “I’ve got forty minutes before I have to get back. Is it close?”
“Yeah,” I nod and gesture toward the door. “Let me pull the car around.”
The minute she’s out of earshot, Alex walks back around the counter and grabs a fistful of my shirt. His jaw’s clenched so tight it’s like it’s made of granite.
“I’m not going to tell you no,” he mutters, “but don’t screw with her. You got me? She’s a good girl, Ryan, and she doesn’t need your shit. I’m serious.”
Shoving his hand off, I straighten my shirt. “You like her. That it?”
Running has hand over his head, he nods. “Yeah. A lot. But there’re things. Things I know damn well I can’t handle. So out of respect for her, I stay away.”
I cock my head. “What things?”
Alex shakes his. “She wants you to know, she’ll tell you. Play nice, Ryan, and no more crap.”
I look back at the door. She smiles at me. All soft and sweet and I know I’m screwed.
“I swear.”
Chapter 7
Liliana
“So you really eat sushi? I’m shocked.” I shove another spicy tuna roll in my mouth, moaning with two parts pleasure and one part pain as the wasabi hits my brain, bringing tears instantly to my eyes.
Laughing, he nods. “Yeah. I do.”
To prove his point he pops another unagi roll into his mouth and chews.
“I’m a fighter. Lean protein, clean carbs. It’s what keeps this body moving.” He winks and my stomach dips.
Who is this guy?
Not the same one I remembered from months ago. He makes me laugh, forget about the stress of time, of homework, of work, of Javi or Mom.
The place is a dump. The carpet is stained and ripped in spots. The tables are nothing more than the fold out kinds and there are cracks in the window. I keep expecting a health inspector to walk in any minute, tape a closed sign to the door, and tell us to run and never look back. But at least there aren’t bugs and the fish does taste fresh.
But the coffee sucks the big one. It’s old, bitter, and so gross I’d only managed two sips before having to set it away.
Ryan’s eyes twinkle, his skin looks flushed and healthy, and for the first time I see hope in him. My fingers curl. I wanted to hug him, to make sure he’s really real. That this is real.
“So how’d they’d take the whole incident? Your,” I shrug, “coach?”
I can’t help but glance at his wrists. The skin still looks a little raw, but more pink than red. In time the marks will become a silvery white.
Noticing where I’m looking, he drops his arms to the table.
“Trainer?” He sighs. “Yeah, about as well as you’d expect. I’m on a short leash with them. One more screw up and that’s it.” I could see his tongue rolling along the inside of his cheek.
I know he’s remembering.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry.”
Shrugging, he pours himself some green tea and then offers me some too. I nod, needing to get the repugnant taste of coffee off my tongue.
“Don’t worry. I told you, twelve steps. You saw me, can’t take it back now, right?”
The last comes out full of vicious regret and my heart gives a painful squeeze in my chest.
“So you know my secrets, what’s yours?” He smiles and I push my empty plate away.
“Yeah, I don’t think so.”
His lips quirk. “Thought so. You really are an angel, aren’t you? Sent from above to rescue the hero in distress.”
I laugh. “Hero in distress? Don’t you mean damsel?”
“Hell no.” He runs his hand down his chest. “All man here, baby.”
I snort and drink, the mellow tea helps calm my suddenly frazzled nerves. This is just supposed to be lunch. Friends going out. Why does it feel like more now? Like we aren’t really strangers getting ready to become friends, but like we’re so much more, like fates been waiting for the right moment to throw us together?
I don’t like this. Don’t want this.
“Yeah, well,” I say more frosty than I’d intended, “Anyway, have to get back to campus.”
The twinkle in his eyes dim and why the hell should that hurt me?
This is too much, too soon, too real.
We pay our bills and leave, the ride back much less relaxed than lunch had been.
“It was good, thanks,” I mumble, feeling like I at least owe him that. “And I’m sorry about…”
His jaw works from side to side, but what he says next surprises me. “Go out with me tomorrow.”
“What?” I blink.
Please don’t do this, don’t ask me out on a date. Please don’t… I chant it over and over and over to myself, mentally projecting it as powerfully as I can, hoping that somehow I’ve developed psychic abilities since noon.
Stopping at a red light, he looks at me. The brutal honesty is stark in his face, it’s raw and vulnerable, and I can’t look away, can’t pretend it’s not there.
“Go out with me. Doesn’t have to be a date. We can go--”
“I have a son.” I hadn’t meant to say it, but it came out anyway. Pain flares through my chest and my fingernails dig into my palms, leaving crescent
marks behind. “He’s autistic and he’s seven.”
There, it’s out. Now I can breathe, now I can see the light dim, see his eyes shift around with embarrassment as he pretends he’d never asked me out in the first place. He’ll do the math, realize I’m nothing but a statistic and that will be that.
