Reluctantly, I separated from him and climbed out of bed. Ry stared at me quizzically from where he still lay. Without explanation, I raced for the living room to retrieve my sketch pad and set of charcoal pencils. No more than a minute had passed by the time I returned, and upon entering his room again, I found Ry stretched out on the mattress, hands folded underneath his head. There was no doubt that the guy was handsome. From his blond hair and blue eyes to the toned muscles in his legs, he was utter perfection.
It wasn’t as if I hadn’t drawn him before. I had more sketches of Ry than I would ever admit, but there was a subtle difference to his countenance that I wanted to capture. Even though I couldn’t quite figure out what had changed, I needed to draw him all the same.
“What are you up to now?” he questioned in a playful tone.
“You’re going to be my muse.”
“Come again?”
“I don’t know why you’re so surprised. You’ve been offering to pose for me ever since we met.”
“Yeah, and the majority of the time, you turned me down. That includes the times I offered to pose naked as well.”
“That’s because I didn’t want to see you naked for the first time as part of a project for school,” I spat in exasperation. “I wanted it to happen because we were together.” I slapped a hand over my mouth, wishing I could swallow the words that had just slipped out. That particular part of my body seemed all too eager to spill my secrets.
And Ry already knew more than he should.
I tried to keep my distance, but Ry had other plans. He captured my wrists before I could slip away. “I wanted it to happen that way too, but if you’d have asked me to strip, I wouldn’t have told you no.” As he inched closer, I was hypnotized by the expression in his eyes. “I know you’ve been through a lot, but I’m handing myself over to you as well, so you don’t have to keep me at arm’s length any longer.”
Ry was the only person who had the ability to render me speechless. I had a knack for witty responses, but he always knew what to say to tie my tongue in knots. After what felt like eons of silence, I was finally able to reply.
“I’m not.”
His grin informed me that I was knee-deep in trouble. “You’re just a conversation extraordinaire.”
“I don’t like you much.”
“Yes, you do,” he countered without hesitation. “You like me a lot, in fact, and I’ll prove it.”
I didn’t even have time to blink before he lunged for me. Ry’s arms caught me around my waist as he pinned me to the bed.
“Ry—”
The fact I had even able to utter his name was incredible, because his lips fastened to mine fast enough to steal my breath away. The embrace we shared may have only been a kiss, but the feelings it conjured had a much deeper meaning. Time slipped away as our mouths moved in unison, tasting and touching to our heart’s content. When we eventually parted, my chest heaved, and once again, my lungs craved the air we had deprived them of.
Ry had awoken something buried within me, something I never dreamed would see the light of day.
Hope.
I hoped he would kiss me until my lips cracked and bled, I hoped he would hold me until his arms grew numb, and I hoped above all that I could stare into his blue eyes until no other colors seemed to exist.
After a long while, he released me. “Alright, I’m ready to be your muse now.”
The electrically charged air hovering between us dissipated. The change left me reeling, as if I’d experienced whiplash. I was at a loss for what to say, so instead, I picked up my sketch pad and pencils.
Ry leisurely propped himself against a pillow. My hand worked in a frenzy to depict him. As I sketched his face, I noticed his eyes never left me. Emotions were etched into every single line I made. He’d always been a beguiling person, but the fact Ry could continually keep me on my toes set him apart from every other guy.
Smudging a line with the tip of my finger, I scrutinized the work I had done thus far. The edge of his jaw had been perfectly recreated, but I needed to focus my efforts on his brow. A plethora of emotions existed within the space between his eyes. Even if I studied him for an eternity, I’d still never be able to guess all his secrets. My heart soared as I continued to draw. The curve of his smile, the bulging muscle in his bicep . . . Every inch of him was represented on my sketch pad. The majority of the time, I would draw whatever piqued my interest. I loved creating flowers and landscapes as much as I did people. Only Mom’s face had ever haunted my thoughts, but Ry was slowly overtaking my mind.
And whether that was a good or bad thing, I wasn’t sure.
“Are you ever going to let me draw you?” he asked.
“Huh?”
“You’re using me as a model right now, so I only feel like it’s fair.”
“Do you even draw or sketch?”
“I draw stick figures.”
I snorted. “You want to draw me as a stick figure?”
“No, I just want to stare at you for long periods of time. I know that would make you nervous, though. So, I figured, if I was pretending to draw you, it wouldn’t make you feel as uncomfortable.”
“Oh,” I answered. Chewing on the end of my pencil, I considered the best way to answer. “I could try to not fidget a lot.”
“That so?”
“I’m not making any promises.”
“Of course not.”
I shrugged. “But I’ll admit, it would be the fair thing to do.”
His smile widened. “Yes, it would.”
Sighing heavily, I finished shading in the majority of his boxers before relinquishing the pad of paper. “Have at it.”
“Thank you.”
Over the course of the next few minutes, I watched as Ry tried his best to draw me. With his tongue poking out through his lips, he regarded me with a serious expression as his hand flitted across the paper. I didn’t know what to expect, but watching Ry attempt to draw me was even more entertaining than the movie had been.
“You look so serious.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to draw a beautiful woman over here,” he explained. “This is a very delicate matter and I want to be sure to do you justice.”
“Are you even drawing anything, or just scribbling?”
“So many assumptions and accusations.”
“Well, your brain is hardwired for business and economics. It’s not like the assumptions I’m making are all that inconceivable.”
“Hush.”
“Can I at least see what the hell you’re doing over there?”
After giving me an exasperated sigh, Ry consented. Handing over the sketch pad, I barely had time to curl my fingers around the edges before laughter bubbled up from my stomach. Art comes in a variety of forms. Music, paintings, graffiti, sewing, and literature are all fine examples, but Ry’s creation couldn’t even pass as a drawing.
“Alright, so it’s not that great,” he admitted, the apples of his cheeks tinged with red.
“Not that great?” I glanced several times between him and the picture I held. “This doesn’t even look like a person! I mean, basically, it’s scribbled nonsense.”
“I was going for an abstract style.”
“Picasso is an abstract artist, and at the end of the day, you can still discern what his subject matter is. This looks like you had a seizure while trying to draw an atomic particle.”
He shot me a glare. “It’s not that bad.”
“It’s not that great either.” I studied the sketch again, still not quite sure what the hell I was even looking at. “I’m trying to figure out what you were drawing.”
“We both know I was drawing you.”
“But were you?” I questioned in disbelief. “Because if this is what I really look like, I’m jumping off a bridge.”
“Always so dramatic,” he replied, crawling over to me. Easing the sketch pad out of my hand, Ry hovered over me.
“A lot of people happ
en to like drama. Shakespeare made a career out of it.”
“I suppose you have a point there.”
“I have a lot of points.”
“I know.” His mouth nipped at the collar of my shirt. “And I like all of them.”
THREE DAYS PASSED IN the blink of an eye. Ry and I spent practically every waking moment with one another. I even went as far as skipping a few of my classes because I had no desire to leave his apartment. If it was an activity happening outside of the bed, it held no interest for me. Ry, on the other hand, only managed to skip one class. Believe me, I coaxed and coaxed, but the guy had goals. He was intent on graduating school with a double major, which only made me like him even more.
Actually, there wasn’t one single thing about him that I didn’t like. Even the walls I’d erected around my heart hadn’t deterred him.
The touch of a hand on my back chased away the dregs of sleep. Scooting over, I pulled back the edge of the comforter. “Go ahead and get in.”
“I can’t.”
“Just so you know, I’m not a fan of your answer.”
“I promise to make it up to you.”
“Promises, promises,” I sighed. “I want you to get in bed with me right now.”
Ry’s laughter slid over my flesh like a warm blanket. “I wish I could, but I’m meeting Logan at the gym.”
I pouted to demonstrate my utter dislike of this information. “But why?”
“Because I love working out and it relaxes me.”
“I can help you relax.”
“Like hell. Whenever I’m around you, relaxing is the furthest thing from my mind.”
“Then I guess I know what we’re doing when you get home.”
Home. The word slid off my tongue so naturally that I almost didn’t realize what I’d said. But the space within these walls did feel like home to me. And I wasn’t talking about the couch or the cabinets in the kitchen. I was talking about the person who lived here, the one who made me smile whenever I was on the verge of tears. Wherever he was would always feel like home to me.
Dread spread throughout my body like wildfire. I’d gotten in too deep. I tried to be cautious, tried to deny the connection Ry and I shared, but all of my efforts had been in vain. I fell for him, despite knowing better. Entanglements of the heart only ended one way—with tears.
Love wasn’t supposed to be a part of my destiny. It never had been and it never would be. I dated Blake knowing he wasn’t the one for me. I stayed with him for months because it was safe. My heart would never allow me to get too involved. But that sentiment no longer held true. Ry had invaded my consciousness. He painted himself into the fabric of my life, and the fact I let him in left me feeling terrified.
“Sounds good to me, babe,” he whispered, leaving a kiss on my temple.
I smiled. My face feigned happiness so he wouldn’t be aware of the turmoil surging inside of me. It took every ounce of willpower I possessed to keep myself from latching on to his arm and begging him to stay. Part of me believed he could fix whatever was wrong with me. The other part understood I couldn’t be fixed, that I couldn’t be saved. The right thing to do would be to let him go and never look back. He should be happy, not tied to someone who was incapable of allowing herself to feel anything remotely similar to the word love.
“Okay,” I croaked. I prayed he would assume my trembling voice came from being half asleep, because he couldn’t know what I was planning.
His eyes connected with mine and, for a second, a lopsided grin covered his face. The gaze we shared only lasted for a moment, but for me, an eternity passed. It physically pained me, but I made myself memorize every darker fleck of blue in his irises. I wanted to remember everything about him so that, when I was old and gray, my mind would recall his visage with perfect clarity. I had no doubts his face would be one to linger. Would I spend a hundred nights sketching the most minute details of his face? Or would it be a thousand?
That was the one quality about time people tended to overlook. Time persisted in spite of love, hate, fear . . . everything, really. When you’ve lost someone who is such an integral part of your soul, you stop thinking about the years you spent together and begin to dread the years you’ll spend without them. The truth is that time is a shackle from which you can never escape. It will chase you to the ends of the earth and make you become its prisoner until your last breath. That is the only kind of promise life has to offer. You will love, you will lose, and you will die.
The end.
When I heard the door to the apartment close, I fought back tears. I didn’t deserve to cry. I was the lowest of the low, a deplorable human being too far removed from the depths of compassion. Sometimes in life, the only choice was to bite the bullet. The pain I felt now would be indescribable, but in the long run, my wounds would heal and I would forget.
Eventually, I wouldn’t be able to recall the exact scent of his body wash or the warmth of his hands on my skin. His laugh, his smile, every wonderful thing about him would fade from my memory. He’d cease to exist in my thoughts and in my soul.
This wasn’t a simple fling or even a hookup. The connection we shared possessed a permanence my heart wasn’t courageous enough to attempt. I was and always would be a coward. Any fears Ry had quelled in the last few days only gave birth to new ones. My trepidation was like a glowing ember. If you didn’t extinguish the cinders, it was only a matter of time before it erupted in flames.
I had the ability to destroy both of us, and even though I was a piece of shit, there was something I could do to protect Ry. He would hate me now, but after some time passed, he would thank me. This was the right decision. Actually, it was the only one.
My warnings had been loud and clear. I expressed my hesitations to him on more than one occasion. But despite my efforts, the rules I established in order to protect myself had been obliterated. Now, retreat was my only alternative. I’d be able to accept his hate. Hell, it would be what I deserved. Because the real sin would be allowing him to love me when it was inevitable that I would let him down. The fact I would disappoint him was almost as inevitable as time. This wasn’t make-believe. It was reality, and sometimes, things don’t end the way we intend. Death, taxes, and Terayn Andrews being a royal fuckup were the only certainties life had to offer. I was fully aware of my place in this world, but after a few days with him, my perspective had shifted.
Unfortunately, it was the kind of shift that would never last.
A couple days couldn’t undo years of conditioning . . . and that was a truth I needed to remember.
Hopping out of bed, I raced to grab some clean clothes. I slipped on a pair of jeans and sneakers faster than what should be humanly possible. After sliding on a sweatshirt, I focused my energy on gathering all my things. Art supplies, clothes, and makeup were tossed into my duffel bag at random. When I finished, the only indication I’d ever been here was the drawing Ry had framed above his bed. I’d given it to him out of appreciation and it wasn’t my place to take it away.
I made his bed and fluffed the pillows while a timid voice in the back of my mind pleaded with me to stay. Maybe Ry was the solution to all my problems. Maybe I did need to take a chance on something worthwhile. But in the end, fear won out. Scribbling out a quick note, I left my apology on the kitchen counter and ran away as fast as my feet could carry me.
When Ry went to the gym, he was usually gone for at least an hour. I prayed the same held true today as well. Hopping into my car, I caught a glimpse of the morning sky. Storm clouds in shades of purple and gray littered the horizon. I dropped my belongings in the passenger seat and rounded the front of my car to slide behind the steering wheel. Everything about this felt wrong. A sensation of dread seeped all the way into my bones. This was the right decision—in fact, it was the only decision. I glanced at the clouds one more time. It was almost as if the universe was attuned to the tempest raging within me.
What would Mom think if she could see me now?
; Brushing away the tears dripping from my eyes, I sucked in the deepest breath I could manage. Asphalt passed beneath the car in a blur as I drove. I wasn’t sure where to go, but when I finally put the car in park, I realized I was at Wren’s apartment. A quick scan of the parking lot informed me that she wasn’t here. Whipping out my phone, I tapped her name and waited for her to answer. After the fourth ring, I began to panic. Luckily, her voice was the next sound to fill my ears.
“Hey, I’m somewhat busy at the moment.”
“I’m in trouble.”
“What? What do you mean?” she asked, anxiety lacing her voice.
“Where are you?”
“At clinical. I don’t have much time to talk.”
“Oh, I didn’t even think about you having clinical today. Wait a second, how are you even answering the phone? Aren’t you supposed to be helping take care of people in the hospital?”
“I’m peeing, if you must know! I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket and saw it was you, so I answered,” she explained. “So, what’s going on? Do I need to leave to come get you? Are you in jail?”
I sighed with exasperation. “I call you to say I need help and your first question is if I’ve been arrested?”
“Have you met you?”
“I just want you to know I resent that question.”
“Ter, you could talk a Baptist pastor into drinking hard liquor, buying a motorcycle, and getting a ‘Hell Raiser’ tattoo on his neck.”
“Alright, I’ll concede. That’s fairly accurate.”
“Oh, I know it is.”
“Why do I put up with you again?”
“Because you love me.”
“At the moment, that’s debatable.”
“So, what do you need?” she asked again. “Do I need to go find a bail bondsman?”
God, was I the most selfish person on the planet? My best friend was taking care of sick people and I was bothering her while she was on a pee break. My personal crisis could wait a few hours. “No. It’s just something stupid. I’ll tell you about it later.”
Not Without You Page 17