The Problem with Forever

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  Paige, Ainsley, and yesterday we...we went pretty far and I—” Pressing my lips together, I cut myself off.

  “What?” she asked softly.

  I didn’t want to say, because it made the hurting in my chest so much worse and it scared me so badly. Terrified me, because I knew what I was feeling was a big deal and acknowledging it made it true.

  “You love him, don’t you?” she said.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I forced a shallow breath. Yesterday the mere idea of falling in love, being in love, was as terrifying as it was exhilarating. Now it was just one of those things.

  “Yes. I think I am.” I opened my eyes and met Ainsley’s stare. “No. I don’t think I am. I know I am. I’m in love with him. I think I’ve been in love with him my entire life. And I love the grown Rider even more than I loved the boy when we were younger.” My heart rate kicked up. “And that’s scary.”

  “Damn straight it is,” she agreed, one side of her lips curling up. “It’s why I’m totes okay with whatever happens with Todd. I don’t love him. I don’t even know what that feels like, but I know it has to be scary.”

  I studied her for a moment and the knot expanded. “I thought Rider felt the same.”

  “Let’s not freak out too much. Okay? We don’t know what was going on there. They were asleep on the couch, not cuddled up—”

  “She was pressed against him.” Saying that made me feel sick, but I had to get it out of me and into the air between us. “He wasn’t holding her or anything, but there was no space between them. None.”

  “That still doesn’t mean anything.”

  My brows rose.

  “All right, he’s going to have to have one hell of an excuse for it, but we really don’t know what was going on there. Paige is a friend of his and Hector’s, right? She knew Hector’s brother?”

  I nodded.

  “It could be harmless.”

  I wanted it to be harmless. And a part of me didn’t. How crazy was that? But if it wasn’t harmless, then it would hurt and it would suck but my life would go back to normal. I wouldn’t have to worry about things like this. Or what Carl and Rosa thought of Rider. I wouldn’t have to fight for him.

  Or fight in general.

  I squirmed, uncomfortable with where my thoughts were going.

  Ainsley placed her hand on my arm. “Has he tried to call you since you left?”

  I glanced at my bag. “The phone rang a couple of times, but I...haven’t looked.”

  She stared at me like I had half a functioning brain. “You should look. Seriously.”

  “It’s probably Rosa or Carl.” But I slid off the bed anyway and grabbed my bag, bringing it back to me. I sat and opened the compartment. I hit the screen and disappointment crashed into me. “It’s not Rider’s. It’s an unknown number.”

  “Oh.” She sighed heavily.

  “Whoever it is left a message. Let me see who it is.”

  “Maybe Carl and Rosa hired a private investigator to find you.”

  Despite everything I laughed as I hit the message button. “That would be an excessive— Oh!” I stopped talking as I recognized the voice.

  “What?” Her eyes widened as she rocked forward. “What?”

  Shaking my head, I held my hand out as I hit Speaker on my phone. Both of us stared at it as Rider’s deep voice filled the room.

  “Mallory, this is Rider. I’m using Hector’s phone. I forgot the battery was running low and mine died. Didn’t even realize it. I’m charging it now. Shit. None of that matters. He said you were here. That you were in the attic. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

  There was a pause and Ainsley muttered, “Good question.”

  I shot her a look as Rider continued. “Hell. I know why. Mallory, call me. Try this number or try mine. Call me.” There was the sound of a door shutting and then he said, “Please, Mallory. Call me.”

  The call disconnected and we both sat there, continuing to stare at it.

  Ainsley was the first to speak. “Are you going to call him?”

  “I...” Hope rose, sweet and sugary compared to the bitterness of disappointment and frustration.

  “He said his phone was dead. That explains why he didn’t answer when you called,” she reasoned. “And he’s never lied to you before, right?”

  I shook my head. His battery had been low. I remembered that now.

  “And he called, obviously right after you left,” she continued. “That has to mean something.”

  I thought it did, but I honestly didn’t know what to think anymore.

  “Call him,” Ainsley urged. “Give him a chance to explain himself.” As I looked up at her, she smiled faintly. “I’m not an expert in the whole love thing, but if you love him, you’ll give him a chance to explain himself. And you love him, right?”

  My heart screamed yes.

  “Call him.”

  Chapter 33

  I didn’t know what to do.

  Well, I knew I had to go home and face the music, but when it came to Rider, I had no idea. I wanted to talk to him and I didn’t.

  Right now I didn’t want him to have to worry about...about relationship drama. The boy he considered a brother had just been killed. He didn’t need to deal with me and what was and was not happening with us.

  But I was also scared of what he had to say.

  Scared of how it would make me feel either way.

  He apparently hadn’t needed me.

  I flinched. I hated that thought, because it was spiteful and it hurt. It clawed around in my chest, because when it came time for the script to be flipped, for me to be there for him, someone else had beaten me to it. The feeling sounded ridiculous, but that was how I felt. That was real.

  And I felt like I failed somehow.

  When I came home just before dinner, I expected Rosa and Carl to be where they were, in the kitchen, waiting to pounce on me the minute I walked through the door.

  That didn’t happen.

  The door to the library was closed, and I could hear someone moving around in the kitchen, most likely Rosa. I halted at the stairs, knowing I should just get this over with, go into the kitchen and face the music.

  I hurried up the stairs instead and closed the bedroom door behind me. Pulling my phone out, I dropped my bag on the window seat. My phone had rung while I was driving. It was Rider, this time from his phone. He’d left a message again.

  Knots formed in my belly as I lifted the phone to my ear and listened to the message. There was silence and then, “Dammit.” He didn’t say anything else. The message ended.

  I sat on the window seat and stared at my phone. Stomach churning, I bit down on my lip.

  I loved Rider.

  Oh, God.

  I was in love with him.

  I knew that much was true. Love was the swelling, hopeful feeling in my chest every time I saw him. Love was the way I could forget about everything when I was with him. Love was the catch in my breath when he looked at me in his intense way. Love was the gasp he could draw out of me with the simplest of touches. Love was the way I could...I could be myself around him, know that I didn’t need to be perfect or worry about what he was thinking, because he accepted me. And all of that?

  Love scared the hell out of me.

  I didn’t want the heartbreak. I knew Rider cared about me, even loved me in a way one would love their childhood friend, but I didn’t know if it was the same emotion I felt for him. Because there was a difference between loving someone and being in love. And he hadn’t said he was in love with me. He’d said a lot and done a lot...to me, but those words had never been spoken. Seeing him with Paige hurt in a way I could barely put into words, a feeling I was so unfamiliar with. I felt sick and anxious, as if I was forgetting to do something, but there was nothing for me to do.

  Heartbreak could only be worse.

  I didn’t want to lose him one day, and God, there were so many ways you could lose someone. I didn’t want to disappoint him. I did
n’t want him to disappoint me.

  Restless, I rose from the window seat and walked to the door. I stopped before I opened it. Where was I going to go? If I went downstairs, I’d have to face Carl and Rosa, so I retreated to my bed and I...

  I didn’t face them.

  I didn’t call Rider.

  Like the Mallory of twelve years, I did what I did best.

  I hid.

  * * *

  Today was going to suck.

  That was all I could think as I dragged myself in the back entrance of Lands High. Jayden would not surprise me at my locker. He wouldn’t randomly appear at lunch and flirt with the girls while stealing their French fries, and I imagined everyone would be talking about what happened on Saturday.

  Every part of me ached as I climbed the stairs to go to my locker. The heavy sweater I wore did nothing to ease the chill settling deep into my bones. I’d hardly slept last night, and Rosa must have sensed that, because all she’d said at breakfast was to dress warm since it was supposed to snow. Somehow her tiptoeing around the events of yesterday had been scarier than her confronting me. Feeling like I needed a nap already, I started to open my locker door.

  “Mouse.”

  My body jerked and then I whipped around. Thoughts scattered as I stared up at Rider.

  He looked...he looked exhausted standing there. Dark shadows had blossomed under his eyes. His hair was messy, as if he’d been shoving his hands through it several times. There was a smattering of scruff along his jaw, and I wanted to rush toward him and wrap my arms around him. I wanted to hold him, because as those hazel eyes met mine, there was a wealth of sorrow in their depths.

  I stood still.

  Rider stepped forward, ignoring the person he cut off. “Can we talk?”

  My heart pounded in my chest. “I have—”

  “You have to go to class. I know,” he said, stepping even closer. So close our shoes touched. “I couldn’t wait until lunch. I mean, I will, but please give me a chance to talk to you.”

  I opened my mouth and I don’t even know what I planned to say, only that what came out of me surprised me. “We can talk now.”

  “Now?” Relief flickered across his face. “You’ll leave school?”

  Nodding, I closed the locker and then faced him. I had no idea what I was doing. Last night I hadn’t been ready to talk to him. I wasn’t sure I was ready now, and leaving school was a bad, bad idea.

  But I did it.

  Rider studied me for a moment, like he didn’t believe me. I didn’t even believe myself, but we started walking. And we kept walking, right out into the cold air and straight to my car, going against the sea of students. No one stopped us. No one looked twice. We got into the car and I turned it on, cranking up the heat. I didn’t let myself think about what I was doing or how much trouble I’d get into if the school contacted the house.

  I looked over at him and realized then he was only wearing a black thermal and jeans. No jacket. “Aren’t you freezing?”

  His gaze roamed over my face. “I don’t even feel the cold right now.”

  Looking away, I slipped the car into Reverse and backed out of the parking space. “Where to?”

  “We can go to Hector’s house,” he offered. “No one is there right now. They’re over at his aunt’s.”

  I thought about his wording. “Why don’t you...ever call it your house?”

  He didn’t answer and when I glanced over at him, he was staring out the window, his jaw locked down.

  “Rider,” I persisted. “You...you want to talk. Let’s talk.”

  “I wanted to talk about what you saw yesterday,” he replied.

  The knots in my stomach doubled. “I want to talk about this first.”

  Rider kicked his head back against the seat and several moments passed before he spoke. “It doesn’t... It doesn’t feel like a home, Mallory. Not my home.”

  I focused on the road. “What does that mean? Your home looks like a home.”

  “Yours feels like a home. You’re there. In the living room and in the kitchen. In your bedroom,” he explained. “But I’m just sleeping in mine.”

  A sick feeling twisted up my insides. “Does Mrs. Luna...make you feel that way?”

  “No,” he sighed. “Of course not, but I’m not— I’m a foster kid, just one of the many Mrs. Luna took in. I’m not her grandson. God knows I’m not a replacement for Jayden, and no matter how much they make me feel welcome, I age out as soon as I graduate. I am not blood. I’m just another mouth to feed. I have to remember that. I always have to remember that.”

  I thought about what Carl had said yesterday and I understood that feeling, but I wasn’t sure if Rider was giving Mrs. Luna enough credit. Or giving himself enough credit.

  “It’s not a big deal,” he added.

  “I think it is.” I slowed with the traffic and glanced over at him. He was still staring out the window, tracing his fingers along the glass. I took a breath and then gave voice to thoughts I’d kept to myself. “I don’t think...you realize how much Hector and Mrs. Luna care about you—how much Jayden cared about you. I don’t think you believe you’re worth it. It’s the same with your artwork and art school—with college.” My hands tightened around the steering wheel and certainty filled me. “You’ve given up on yourself before anyone else has a chance to.”

  Silence greeted me.

  I could feel Rider’s stare on me. Several moments passed. “That’s bullshit, and kind of priceless coming from you. You gave up on me yesterday.”

  I started to defend myself, but I couldn’t. I swallowed hard. “I know. You’re right about that, but I’m also right.”

  “And how’s that?” Challenge hardened his tone.

  “Because I give up on myself on a daily basis,” I admitted. My cheeks heated but I continued. “I know.”

  He sucked in an audible breath. “Mallory...”

  I shook my head as I thought about all the conflicting emotions and needs and wants. “It’s true. It’s what I do. I don’t mean to. Or maybe I do. It’s...it’s easier being scared of everything.”

  “How...how can that be?” His voice softened. “How can that be easier?”

  My smile was faint. Suddenly, I really wished I was at home, with my head under the blankets. “You can’t fail when you don’t really try, right? You’d know that.”

  Rider cursed under his breath, and he didn’t say anything after that. As I pulled into the parking spot a few houses down, I figured coming to talk was a bad idea, so I didn’t turn the car off.

  The click of Rider unbuckling his seat belt echoed. I looked over. “Maybe we should...we should talk later.”

  “What?” He paused with his hand on the door. “No. Not after what you just said. You’re not giving up without even talking. Especially not after you just called me out for virtually the same thing.”

  Well, he had a good point there, but I hesitated.

  “We’re here. Okay? Let’s talk.”

  The urge to run back to school or home rode me hard. I really couldn’t even believe I’d left school and was sitting outside Rider’s house—the house that didn’t feel like a home to him.

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  Rider waited until I grabbed my bag and got out of the car before he did, almost like he expected me to drive off the moment he stepped out. I followed him up the block, shivering as the wind lifted the hair off my shoulders.

  The house was quiet as we walked in and it smelled more like