The pain and hatred Ry displayed as he explained the estranged relationship he had with his father was all consuming. He had been abandoned by someone he thought would love him forever. How could a person ever learn to trust after something like that? Death was the only thing capable of tearing my mother away, but for Ry, his father had chosen to leave. He cared more for his other children than he did for his first son.
So much space seemed to exist between us. In this moment, Ry believed himself to be alone, but I needed him to know he wasn’t. I wanted him to realize he could count on me just like all the times I’ve had to count on him. “Ry,” I began softly, “you are twice the man your father could ever hope to be. You are so kind, strong, and thoughtful—it’s enough to take my breath away. Your father is the one I feel sorry for, not you. Because he discarded one of the best souls he’ll ever have the fortune of meeting.” I inched closer to him, only stopping when I was fully seated in his lap. His strong arms cradled me as I touched my lips to his forehead. “It’s his loss. Never forget that.”
“I’ll try.”
I sighed, knowing his confession needed to be repaid in kind.
“The worst part about Mom getting sick was watching the effect it had on my dad,” I confessed with more confidence than I felt. “At the end, her body was so frail that I was sometimes afraid to touch her, because it looked as if she might break.” My voice wavered slightly, and I knew more tears wouldn’t be far behind. Thinking of those last few months, of the hope my father had continued to carry in his heart, was the worst pain I’d ever known. “But he was so strong through it all. He was there for her when we were told she had cancer, he was there for all the chemo treatments that made her sick for days on end, and he was there when her hair began to fall out.” My hold on him increased and I exhaled with relief as his hands began to rub my back. “My mom was strong and beautiful. She lived her life without regrets, and when she learned that she only had a few months left on this earth, she accepted her fate without a shred of fear. The love my parents had for one another is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. They were soulmates, and when Mom was gone, part of my dad was missing too.” Swallowing hard, I willed myself to keep speaking. “And he was never the same again.”
“I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m afraid of going down the same path he did. I’m terrified that one day I’ll care for someone so much that I’ll never recover if they get taken away from me. I don’t want my happiness to be solely dependent on another human being. I would rather be alone than wander the earth, missing the other half of my soul.”
My heart thrashed against my ribcage. The secret fear that had been weighing me down had been released into the world. Confession could be as cathartic as it was terrifying. And I could only pray Ry wouldn’t judge me too harshly.
“Both of our biggest fears stem from fates our parents shared,” he whispered, his mouth brushing the side of my neck.
The gesture was barely anything at all, but I didn’t want him to stop. Why was it the things that frightened us the most were also the things we wanted more than anything else? Was it some sort of subconscious reverse psychology? Or maybe even a common trick of nature?
Every living creature on this earth had wants and desires, but their minds were also awakened to the concept of fear. It was as if the universe continually sought to make mankind walk a tightrope, teetering between temptation and reluctance.
“I had the exact same thought when you were telling me about your dad.”
“Whoever would’ve guessed that?” His question was meant to help lighten the mood, but a small part of me still felt burdened.
“Ry . . .”
“What?”
“There is one more thing I want you to know.”
“Okay.”
Closing my eyes, I inhaled. “I’m not as brave as I’ve led you to believe, especially not about things that matter.”
“Then I guess we can be cowards together, because neither am I.”
“Don’t make light of the situation. This is difficult for me.”
“What are you trying to say exactly?”
I continued holding on to him out of fear that he would be pulled from my grasp at any second. “I don’t—”
“Ter,” he whispered. “You don’t have to confess every secret you have in a single night.”
“Are you sure?”
Again, his lips met with my flesh. “Does it look like I’m going anywhere?”
.
Sometime during the course of our conversation, my legs had wrapped around his waist. “It’s not as if I’m really giving you a choice.”
“Believe me, I’d rather die than leave.”
My nails dug into the fabric of his shirt as I attempted to pull him closer. “Please don’t say something like that to me.”
“Shit,” he muttered. “I’m an ass, I wasn’t thinking—”
“It’s fine, but just let me stay here tonight.”
“Whatever you want.”
I couldn’t help but find a small amount of humor in his reply. If he knew what I truly wanted from him, would he even give it to me? Sleeping at his place without Wren present was dangerous. There were clear lines establishing the boundaries of our friendship, but those restrictions became more blurred by the day.
On Halloween, we had both hinted at wanting something more than friendship, but was that just the alcohol and excitement of the environment talking? Clothes were limited, our thinking hindered, and we had rubbed up against one another. In the heat of the moment, it had been allowable to let the situation get out of hand. But what about now? There were no lapses in our judgment this time, so if we truly wanted to broaden the spectrum of our platonic relationship, then why weren’t we doing so?
After talking for what felt like hours on end, we decided to lie down in his bed. There was only so much emotional strife the mind could take before raising a white flag
“Hey, Ter?” he asked.
I rolled over to face him. Even in the dim light, I was still able to make out every single line of his face. That was one of the drawbacks of being an artist. Whenever someone got under your skin, you had to recreate them in a variety of mediums. But I had my doubts that paint, charcoal, pencil, or ink could do him the true justice of capturing every emotion locked within his expression.
“Yeah?”
“How was your appointment with Jonas? Did he like the concept you came up with for the show?”
“Well, he didn’t tell me to change my concept as much as he encouraged me to confront my deepest fears. He told me that I was great at evoking emotion with my work, but he wants me to delve deeper and deliver something everyone is sure to remember.”
Absorbing my words, Ry nodded. “He’s right, you know.”
“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“You are great at evoking emotion with your work, but you do always play it safe.”
My lips pursed together as I glared at him. “I’m going to be honest, you’re not one of my favorite people at the moment.”
“You know what I mean.”
I rolled my eyes at him, knowing he wasn’t completely wrong. “He did like my idea to use human bodies as canvas for the show.”
“I didn’t know you were planning on doing that.”
“Didn’t I tell you about it?” I asked, infusing my voice with excessive amounts of sweetness.
“No.”
“Alright, you kind of got me there. I was struck with the idea while I was in Jonas’s office and it slipped out. Fortunately, he loved it.”
“I take it you’re planning on using Wren and I as your guinea pigs then?”
My eyebrow arched as I leaned toward him. “You mean to tell me that you’re opposed to letting me cover your entire body with paint?”
His gaze narrowed slightly as he regarded me. “Never said that, but I am wondering what I get out of helping you with this art show.”
/>
“My hands touching every single part of your body.”
“I’m in.”
“That didn’t take much.”
Feigning shock, he gasped. “Should you really be insulting the help like that?”
“Oh, shut up!” When I tried to smack his chest, Ry’s hands caught my wrist. “Ry,” I warned.
“You should use your new drawing as your inspiration for the show.”
“What new drawing?” I asked.
“The one where you’re standing with your dad in a meadow of yellow flowers.”
My heart fluttered like the wings of a butterfly. How had he even seen that drawing?
“How?”
“You thought I was asleep, but I was actually watching you.”
He tried to move next to me, but I pulled away. “That’s a huge invasion of privacy!”
“You were just sitting on the couch. How was I supposed to know you didn’t want me to see it?”
“Because.”
“The figure standing between you and your dad, it’s the spirit of your mother, right?”
I nodded, my mouth suddenly incapable of speech.
“I think it’s beautiful and it’d be a crime if you didn’t share it with everyone.”
“You do?” His hands continued to hold my wrists, and I cherished the sensation of his skin on mine.
He stared at me intently, his eyes studying every single curve of my face. “I think it’s the second most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
This was one of those moments where I needed to bridge the gap between us, where I needed to show him that I was willing to meet him halfway. But despite my desire to do so, my body wouldn’t move.
He pulled me closer until the tips of our noses touched. “Should I come to you then?” he questioned in a whisper. All I had to do was lean in and press my mouth to his. An inch of air separated us. How could such little space feel like miles?
My heart was dragging me to the edge of a cliff. If I took one more step, I’d be free-falling through the air. But what would happen when I hit the ground? A fall from that height would change me in ways I couldn’t yet comprehend.
“Stop going places where I can’t follow.”
His request was enough to break the daze I’d been wrapped up in. “What do you mean?”
“I can only imagine how beautiful it is inside here.” His lips lingered against my flesh as he kissed my forehead. “But since I can’t join you there, won’t you stay out here with me?”
It was impossible not to smile at his question. He may not have known it, but I would’ve gone anywhere he asked. “If that’s what you want.”
“What I want is to show you something.”
“Then show me.”
He shook his head, a smile barely discernable on the edges of his lips. “You’re not ready to see it just yet.”
I AWOKE THE NEXT morning to the feel of Ry’s arms wrapped around my waist. I think we’d fallen asleep sometime after midnight, but I wasn’t sure. When I tried to slip from his grasp, his hands tugged me closer to him.
Heat from his flesh seeped through the thin T-shirt I wore, warming me from the outside in. “Ry,” I whispered, “I need to get up.”
“Not yet,” he mumbled sleepily.
“Well, it seems like my bladder is happy to disagree with you.”
“Five more minutes.”
“Ry . . .”
When I tried to move, he held me in place. Then, without warning, his hand slipped beneath the fabric of my shirt, migrating past my belly button and up to my chest. Shock rippled through my body in a series of waves.
This kind of touch was definitely outside the confines of our friendship.
“Jesus Christ!” I called out. “Ryan!”
“What?” His voice indicated irritation.
Well, join the fucking club, dude. Touching me like that was a tease in the worst possible way, so if he had no intentions of finishing what he was starting, then he needed to leave me the hell alone.
“If you don’t remove your hands from my tits in the next five seconds, I’m going to sucker punch you in the throat.”
My threat, it seemed, was enough to startle him awake. He bolted upright, his hands ripping away from me. “Fuck, I wasn’t trying to—”
“Cop a feel?”
“I promise I was asleep. If I’d been awake, I wouldn’t have been touching you like that.”
“Am I that repulsive?”
“You don’t get to play both sides like that,” he countered. “You can’t be pissed I felt you up and then ticked off when I say I wouldn’t do something like that while awake.”
“Then—”
“I wouldn’t consciously do something like that without your consent.” Leaping out of bed, Ry picked up a shirt from the floor and pulled it on. “And now, I’m going to cook breakfast because you’re always nicer to me after you’ve eaten.”
He slipped into the hallway, but I managed to catch up with him. Weaving my arms around his waist, I rested my cheek against his back as I held on to him. “Thank you for listening to me and talking with me last night.”
“You did the same for me.”
“I know, but you’ve done so much for Wren and me. We’re lucky to have you.”
“You’ve got that wrong, because I’m the lucky one.”
I gave him a final squeeze before releasing him. “Will you make me an omelet?”
“Of course. Anything else you want?”
“Coffee, please.”
Heading for the kitchen, he said, “I can make that happen.”
“Thank you! You’re the breast!”
“Just couldn’t resist slipping that one in there, could you?”
I laughed, thoroughly sensing his discomfort. “You mean like you slipped your hand up my shirt just a bit ago?”
He groaned loudly. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”
“I’ll forget about it once I can’t think of any more titillating replies.” Doubling over, I laughed until I was gasping for air.
“Yeah, that just doesn’t sit well with me.” By the time I realized he was charging for me, it was already too late. Ry scooped me up in his arms, rushing toward his room. Together, we crashed on top of his bed.
“Ry!”
“Admit defeat right now, and I’ll let go.”
“I’ll admit defeat when hell freezes over!”
“Always so stubborn.”
I tried to escape, but Ry had me pinned to the bed. “I’m going to give you one more chance, and then I’m going to tickle you, starting with your feet.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, I think I would,” he replied with a wily grin.
“I’ll never admit defeat.”
“Then this is your fault.” His fingers trailed down the length of my legs, halting as he reached my feet.
I squirmed beneath him, my desperation to slip away increasing with every passing second. “Ryan,” I seethed. “Don’t you dare do it.”
“Nope, still not the response I was looking for.”
Squealing, I thrashed back and forth as he tickled the soles of my feet. “Please, Ry.” Laughter filled the air around us, echoing off the walls of his room. “Please, stop.”
“Not possible, babe.”
The term of endearment brought our lighthearted encounter to an abrupt halt.
My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath. “Am I your babe now?”
“Would you like to be?”
Words were only simple groupings of letters, but some possessed enough power to decimate an entire city. And his question was no different.
“Did you mean what you said on Halloween?” I asked.
“I drank a lot of alcohol and ran stark naked through the yard of every house on Greek Row on Halloween, so I’m going to need you to be a bit more specific.”
“When we were dancing at the club . . .”
“That doesn’t really
narrow it down, so I’m going to need you to spell it out for me.”
I was officially an idiot for bringing up the conversation at all. Things said under the influence of liquor weren’t always truthful.
Ry wasn’t the one hitting on me—tequila was.
“It was just a stupid joke we made,” I lied, praying he wouldn’t press the subject any further.
“A joke?”
“Yeah, between two drunk people. Really, I don’t even remember all of it.”
The look of disbelief altering his features informed me that he didn’t believe a single word I was saying. “Okay. Well, I better get started on breakfast.”
“Okay.”
My heart sank as I watched him walk away. This is what I deserved for not being honest with myself or with him.
Part of my mind believed owning up to my fears would change the way I behaved in situations like this. Self-preservation wasn’t an issue for those who had nerves of steel. I wanted to be brave, to stare down my own apprehension in the face. But when push came to shove, I was all too willing to deflect toward my usual comfort zone.
The sad part was that I yearned to become this unattainable, idolized version of myself. Yet, I wasn’t made of gold, and eventually, there would come a day when Ry would grow tired of hanging around me. If I was incapable of being honest, then he deserved something better than I could offer.
I was a fool for even dreaming he would stick around forever. Everything in life was temporary. That was a universal truth known far and wide. Last night, Ry told me I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. More than anything, I wanted to be the person he saw whenever he looked at me. But unfortunately, such a reality would never come to pass. It was only a matter of time before my luster faded in his eyes, and when that day came, I’d have no choice but to watch him walk away.
Terror pumped through my heart like blood. In the short time Ry and I had known each other, I’d come to need him. Yesterday, when it had felt as though I was suffocating from all the thoughts weighing me down, I ran to him as fast as my feet could carry me.
And if I allowed him to slip through my fingers, it would be a regret I’d carry with me until the end of my days.
Not Without You Page 14