Rush Me

by Allison Parr

  “Get out,” Ryan said.

  Thomas stiffened his shoulders. “Come on, Rachael. Let’s go.”

  Beside me, Ryan froze.

  I jerked my chin at the door. “You go on.”

  Thomas shook his head stubbornly. “I can’t leave you here. He obviously has anger issues.”

  Ryan’s face shut down even more.

  My gaze flickered back and forth between the two, and then I dropped Ryan’s hand and hauled Thomas off by the elbow. “Thomas, I can handle this, okay?” I pitched my voice low as we approached the pool house door.

  “Rachael...”

  “Thomas. I like you. You’re a good friend. But that’s my boyfriend.”

  “Your violent, asshole boyfriend.”

  I pushed the door wide and gave him a pointed look.

  He let out a long sigh. “Fine. Whatever. But, you know, if you’re not back in twenty minutes I’m going to come back for you.”

  “Don’t you dare.” I gestured him out. “Oh, and Thomas—if you’re looking for a rebound, I think Sara Milton is, too.”

  “Ye of little faith,” he snorted, but I saw the flare of interest and the slight grin as he left.

  When I turned back to Ryan, his glacial expression hadn’t changed.

  I lifted my chin. “He kissed me. I didn’t kiss him.”

  Ryan said nothing.

  “I was looking for you. And he followed me. We were talking about you, actually. And then he just—it was totally unexpected.” My words blurred together at the end. Why wouldn’t he say anything?

  And then he did. “Okay.”

  I stared at him. That was it? Okay? “So—it’s fine?” I hedged. He’d punched Matt Barrett in the face for leering at me.

  That wasn’t quite right. He’d punched Matt for winning the game, insulting Ryan’s skill at football and with women, and implying I’d wanted him. Still, if Ryan believed me, why wouldn’t he warm up?

  “I don’t care that he kissed you.” I waited for my chest to unfold but it remained tight and tense as his expression. “I want to know if he was right.”

  I flipped back through our short conversation. Right about what? Ryan couldn’t possibly think I was using him for his money, could he? The thought made me sick. “What are you talking about?”

  “Why haven’t you come to my games?”

  Utterly confused by this turn, I shook my head. “What? I’ve gone to some of your games.”

  I watched his throat convulse. The blue lights of the pool flickered strangely across his face, shaded veils that waved over his skin. “But why won’t you go to the away ones?”

  “I don’t know. They’re far away. Besides, it’s super expensive to get out to all those places.”

  “You know I’d pay.”

  My stomach clenched. “I don’t want you to pay!”

  He shoved his hands through his thick golden hair, frustration clear in his voice and on his face. “And that’s what I just don’t get. Why are you always pushing me away? Why can’t I buy you dinner, or a taxi, or a plane ticket?”

  How did wanting to be financially independent constitute rejection? “Okay, first, the first two aren’t even in the same realm as the last. And second—because! I’m not a gold digger! I don’t want to use you for your money!”

  His head jerked up. “You think I don’t know that? You think I’m not perfectly aware you’d prefer I was like Thomas or John or some Williamsburg hipster in weather-inappropriate scarves?”

  “What is that even supposed to mean?” I rubbed my hands over my cheeks and kept my voice low because it hurt to force the words out. “What are you talking about?”

  He shoved a hand through his hair. “I just meant I know that you never wanted anyone like me.”

  What did he mean, he knew I never wanted anyone like him? I stopped and stared into his proud, wide eyes, and felt my gut twist and tug my heart lower. He was intelligent and strong and funny and determined, but that wasn’t what he was talking about. Did he think I still saw him as I had that very first night? Had I been heaping insult to injury every time I didn’t go to a game? It hurt to think he didn’t realize how proud I was of him. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

  Ryan locked his hands behind his back, impossibly stubborn and proud. “And no one thinks you’re trying to use me. I want to spend the money. I don’t get why you won’t let me.”

  “Because! I’m not—I don’t—” In my frustration and confusion, I couldn’t even think how to articulate. It wasn’t normal, at least not to me. Maybe Thomas was right—I wasn’t one of those girls. “I’m not a leech. I can support myself.”

  I could tell by the slight narrowing of his eyes that he spoke to cut. “Your parents are supporting you.”

  The truth sent heat creeping up my neck and hollowed out my stomach. I twisted my fingers together and blinked. “They’re my parents. I’m sort of their responsibility.”

  “You’re twenty-three.”

  I closed my eyes, swallowing against the ache in the back of my throat. “Well, what are you suggesting? That I should just rely on you for everything?”

  “Not everything, but when the disparity’s so obvious—”

  Oh, God. “I don’t care. I want to hold my own. I need to support myself, Ryan. It’s principle, it’s pride—”

  “For God’s sake, Rachael, you have to be reasonable.” The derision in his voice made my back stiffen and my cheeks burn. “What happens if you move in with me? Are you going to insist on paying for half of the apartment, too?”

  My eyes snapped open and I glared at him. “What makes you think I’d move in with you?”

  He recoiled as though I’d hit him, and I watched him shutter all emotions. The satisfaction from gaining a point was buried by the growing sickness. “I get it. So what are we even doing here? If you don’t want to move in eventually or help each other or accept gifts—what the fuck are we, then, Rachael? Just some casual fling?”

  “Ryan!” I screamed, not sure how this had snowballed so quickly. “I’m not—I just brought you to meet my parents! You’re the one who treated this like it wasn’t serious!” I caught my breath.

  “Me? I had to cajole you into letting me come. You are so standoffish, so scared of letting anyone in—”

  Said the man who refused to introduce me to his family. What a hypocrite. “Fine,” I snapped. “Fine, I guess you’re right. I guess we aren’t anything.”

  He scoffed and reached out for my wrist. “Don’t be—”

  I evaded him. “What? I am an adult, Ryan. I don’t want you to baby me or map out each of my Sundays until you retire or use your clout to find me a job. That’s not me.” I shrugged. It hurt in the place behind my eyes, where tears begin. “Maybe Thomas was right. Maybe I’m just not cut out for your world.”

  “Maybe you’re not trying.”

  “You know what? I did try. And I’m done. I don’t want to have to deal with jock millionaires and weird values and unreasonable demands anymore.”

  I watched the surprise and pain flash across his expression, and then his face hardened to granite. He took two lightning steps forward, stopping only a breath from me. His entire body trembled with suppressed emotion. “Then I’m glad I didn’t introduce you to my family. I don’t want them to have to meet some uptight elitist.”

  But I had wanted to meet them so much, his crowd of brothers, his loud grandmother. I wanted to see the farm and listen to his brother Rich play the piano and see where his parents had taught him to ride. “I want you to leave.” My voice shook. He stood too close, and my body wanted to lean into him. The rest of me wanted him to leave so I could cry in peace.

  “Fine.” He didn’t move.

  I needed space. My hands flashed out and shoved at Ryan, hard, but he didn’t even rock back on his heels. I shoved again, and now his restraint broke and his arms were up, wrestling mine up and back. We tussled briefly, as I tried to elbow him in the chest or at least grind my heel into his i
nstep, but he was stronger and faster and had me pinned against the wall in a breath. I bucked my body against his but instead of moving his it threw me flush against him. He slammed his lips down on mine, angry and demanding, hard enough to hurt. I bit down on his lower lip, hard.

  “God, you’re a bitch!”

  “Get the hell off me.”

  His eyes, hot with desire, focused on mine, but he came no closer. He drew back, his body leaving me cold and alone, and I clamped down on the urge to follow.

  His finger reached out, tracing along my collarbone, the rough pad of his forefinger dipping into the hollow of my neck. My heart leaped rapidly, my skin on fire as his touch rested lightly on my pulse. “Fine.” He dropped his hand and stepped back.

  I could barely think, my mind was so foggy with need.

  “Go on.” His own voice was unsteady. “You can walk away from me. Get what you need from Tommy.”

  “Don’t be a jerk.” I pushed off from the wall, teetering away.

  His arm snaked out and hauled me toward him. I didn’t resist. When he slanted his mouth down to kiss me, I leaned in eagerly, our mouths opening, tongues tangling. Our hands twined over each other. He thrust his leg between mine, and I wrapped mine around his waist. I felt hot and dizzy, my breath caught in the back of my throat. His fingers slid over my bare skin and I moaned, my eyes hot with tears, my body aching with desire.

  Ryan pulled my dress over my head, the cloth falling in a puddle of blue silk, and I flicked off my panties, letting them tangle at my ankles. Ryan dropped to his knees, his hands gripping my hips, fingertips biting into my skin hard enough to bruise. I threw my head back as his mouth found my center, my hands closing over his shoulders. “Oh, God,” I groaned, heady sensation flooding my senses as he teased and tantalized. I slumped again the wall, my knees weak and unable to hold my weight. “Ryan,” I breathed. “Yes—there—” Just a little more. I was so close, just on the brink and I wanted to burst, to break and fall and I was so, so close. Just a little deeper, a little more...and...

  Ryan dropped his hands and drew back.

  I fell to the floor, my legs splayed apart. “What?” My entire body was titillated, my nipples peaked, my center swollen and wet. I reached blindly for Ryan, trying to pull my lover back to me. “Ryan...”

  When I finally focused my dilated eyes on him, I saw his own gaze blazed hot and angry. “You’re kidding,” I gasped, when I realized he intended to just leave me on the brink, unfulfilled. I almost could have laughed. A game for a game, was it?

  Fine. I stretched my hand down. I could do this myself.

  Ryan caught my wrists and pinned them between one of his own large hands. “No. That’s not how this works,” he said through gritted teeth.

  I was teetering into pain. “Ryan.” I let all my desire, all my need, fill my voice. I arched toward him. Right now I didn’t care if he hated me. He just couldn’t walk away.

  And he didn’t. Instead, he cursed and shed his clothes in seconds before pulling me back into his arms. We fell together against the wall, the momentum carrying Ryan as he buried himself in me in one smooth, deep movement. I cried out. That was all it took. I was over, climaxing, the world sky blue and bright as I spun through it.

  Ryan didn’t stop, still thrusting deep and hard, until he stiffened and pulled my body tight to him. We fell to the floor together, a tangle of limbs, as he groaned his satisfaction. Eyes closed, I smiled.

  He seared my lips with a kiss, and then withdrew. I opened my eyes, confused. Usually we lay with each other after making love. But now he was jerking up his jeans and buttoning them. He was windswept, but fully dressed, and when he looked at me, naked, my clothes strewn around me and legs sprawled open, his face was impassive. “Goodbye, Rachael.”

  I pulled my dress over my head, starting to feel uncomfortable. “Ryan—what are you doing?”

  “Leaving.”

  I sat up, filled with disbelief. “You can’t be that pissed off.”

  “Come find me when you’ve grown up a bit,” he said coldly, and walked out the door.

  I sat there in shock. “When I’ve grown up!” I finally shouted. “What about you? Compromises aren’t made by one person!” I wobbled to my feet, smoothing my dress down. “Ryan!”

  It didn’t matter. He had already left.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “I’m impressed,” Gretchen said a week later. She sat in her chair, salt-and-pepper head bent, while I stood at attention before her. She patted the manuscript on her desk. “You’ve done a great job on this.” She hesitated, and then smiled at me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen such a full-blown smile on the editor’s face, such sly satisfaction curving under her wire-rimmed frames. “It’ll go into the fall line-up for next year.”

  For a moment, I could hardly breathe, and then my mouth split open in a huge grin. That Gretchen had been willing to give Alexandra’s book a glance was favor enough; that she thought it was worth publishing came straight from my daydreams.

  “Thank you so much. That’s wonderful. And I think it’s going to do really well. The website’s been really successful—oh, and I was talking to a college friend interning over at Tenth Review and she thinks she can get a spotlight done on it.” I snapped my lips shut, aware I was babbling, but I couldn’t wipe the happiness from my face.

  “You’ve certainly done your homework.” She considered me long enough that my nerves started to corrupt my joy. “Well. There’s a position opening up in the publicity department for a digital marketing assistant. I’d be happy to have a word with Howard, the creative director, if you’re interested.”

  My throat dried up. This had to be a dream. “Really?” I tried not to squeak, and then I concentrated on sounding a little more collected. “I would really appreciate that.”

  She let out another full smile. “Yes, I thought you would. We’ll be sad to lose you, but you’re a good worker, and you deserve a job.”

  “I’ll still be working with Alexa, though, won’t I? My author?”

  “I imagine it will depend on your workload, but I don’t see that it would be a problem.”

  In fact, even if Penelope Books didn’t want my editorial input, I might see if Alexa wanted to work with me directly. If she was interested in collaborating on a companion website, I definitely was.

  I grinned bright and dumbfounded as Gretchen nodded briskly. “Good. I’ll talk to Howard, and then I imagine you’ll meet with him the next time you come in. Monday?”

  I nodded.

  “Good. We’ll make it official then.”

  As I stepped out into the cold December wind, joy warmed me, excitement bubbling up and spreading from my fingers to my wide-spread grin. I wanted to hum, to dance down the streets, to laugh out loud, to tell the world...

  I wanted to tell Ryan.

  The grin slowly collapsed, and I pulled my coat tighter.

  I couldn’t. We hadn’t spoken since the reunion. Every time I’d tried to pick up the phone, my courage had depleted. Every time I thought about the insults hurled, my stomach curled in on itself.

  I lifted my face into the bracing, stinging air. Maybe it was better this way. We hadn’t worked out. We’d been too alike; too stubborn, too passionate, too immature. But wasn’t that what relationships, what life, was about—figuring out who you were, what you wanted? Trying things and then when they failed, learning from your mistakes? That’s what this had been—a learning relationship. Ryan had been right in the end—I did need to grow up. I had judged him off the bat and it had affected our relationship for the worse until we were nothing.

  That was what I should be taking away. I should try to be more open and give people the benefit of the doubt. Next time I wouldn’t go in with so many defenses and so much scorn. We would start from a better place.

  Except I didn’t want there to be a next time. I still wanted this time.

  My phone rang before I reached the subway, and my stomach tightened at Mike’s name. I’d see
n him and Abe and the other usual suspects once since I’d come back, with a glaring hole in the group. The guys hadn’t seemed to notice; they accepted Ryan’s excuses that he was busy, and when they needled me about him they didn’t seem to expect a response. I didn’t know why Ryan hadn’t told them we were over, but I couldn’t make myself because then I might lose these friends, too. Still, every time I saw them the knife twisted even deeper.

  “What’s up?”

  Mike sounded panicked. “You’re still in the city, right? You haven’t gone home from work? You’ve got to get over here. Bri’s freaking out.”

  I frowned. “What? What are you talking about? Come where?”

  “Oh, right. Sorry. We’re at Per Se.”

  “The Thomas Keller restaurant?” I swallowed. Per Se was generally considered to be one of the best restaurants in New York; some lists put it at one of the top in the world. I wouldn’t know, of course; I tended not to spend three-hundred-plus dollars on a meal.

  “What happened?”

  Malcolm had spilled the beans to the guys; he’d planned to propose to Briana at Per Se tonight. Several of the guys, thinking themselves sneaky, snuck into the restaurant. I wasn’t sure how one snuck into Per Se. I supposed it had to do with that special NFL treatment again. They planned to wait until after the proposal, and then to pop out with a bottle of champagne and a cheer before vanishing again.

  Only now, for some reason, Briana had locked herself in the ladies’ room and Malcolm had stormed out, leaving the guys unsure of what to do.

  It didn’t take me long to get there. When I did, a knot of Leopards greeted me. “At least try to get her out of there,” Mike begged. “We can’t just leave her locked in the bathroom, but we have no idea when Malcolm will be back.”

  I nodded, automatically searching for Ryan. I hadn’t seen him for two weeks, and I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to see him now. Just the thought made my stomach tense and my lungs constrict and—there was Abe, shaking his head. “He went after Malcolm.”

  Fine. I had Bri to sort out, anyway.

  The restaurant employees were pleased to finally have a female to deal with the hysterical woman in their bathroom. Apparently, she had been scaring the other customers, which was not a phrase I would ever have thought to apply to Briana Harris. I pushed open the bathroom door and found her sitting on the floor of the tiny antechamber, knees tugged up, head down.