She grabs one of my hands. “I think you’re being paranoid over nothing. Talk to him about it.” She narrows her eyes. “Otherwise it’s going to eat you up inside.” She tops off her wine then pours the rest into mine, and I’m suddenly wishing we had another bottle.
Ugh. I think I had way too much wine last night. I open an eye and groan, as the sun beams straight through the cracks of the blinds, making the throbbing in my head feel worse. There’s pressure weighing on my body. I drop my gaze to the tan, muscular arm flung over my stomach. Luke.
“Morning,” he grumbles into the pillow. “Does that mean I should leave?”
I shut my eyes and wince. “It’s not you. My head is just …” I pause. “When did you get here?” Last I remember, I was alone and never heard him come in.
“It was late. You were already passed out,” his voice is rough with sleep. I love the way it sounds.
“You’ve been doing that a lot lately.” I rub my temples. “Is everything okay?” Maybe he’ll bring up the letter. Ever since the night with his father, he’s been coming here to sleep, and sleeping in the same bed is against the rules. It just makes it harder to keep our hands off one another. But we’ve broken it several times. I think it’s a stupid rule anyway. I’m not the one that made it up.
Instead of answering, he lays his head on my stomach, and I run my fingers through his disheveled hair. When my shirt rides up, his warm breath tickles my skin, and a rash of tiny bumps appear. I squirm when he lightly brushes his thumb across them, before he’s peppering my belly with soft kisses. Soon, I’m a quivering mess. “I’m going to get you something for your head?” he whispers.
“You’re a tease,” I murmur, a little breathless. “And don’t ignore my question.”
He’s watching me from under his lashes, and I notice the heat in his gaze. “I’ll be back.” He pushes up on his forearms then kisses my forehead and makes his way to the door. My eyes stay on him the whole time, before I get up to brush my teeth and take a swig of mouthwash. I climb back into my bed, hoping he finishes what he started, but I know it’s wishful thinking.
Moments later, he’s back with three ibuprofen and a tall glass of ice water. “Drink up. It’ll help.” My eyes drop to his taut abs, and he softly chuckles. I guess I’m not so good at being discreet.
“Thank you. And next time you don’t have to be so bossy.” The corner of his mouth tips in his signature grin. Then I do what he says, set down my glass, and ask, “Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?” I grab his hand and pull him down next to me. “Tell me what’s going on?”
He runs a hand through his hair and opens his mouth like he’s going to speak then decides against it. Finally, he says, “Lets just enjoy each other right now, okay?” He scoots me back on the bed and lies down on top of me, nuzzling his face in my neck. It’s a movement that normally brings me comfort, but his words do the exact opposite, so I lay there chewing on my lip, wondering when my heart will start again. “Just relax,” he says.
“How can I relax when you say something like that?” I ask softly. I want him to pull back and look me in the eyes, but he doesn’t. Instead he squeezes me tighter, keeping his face right where it is. I begin to wonder if he’s doing it on purpose. So he doesn’t have to look at me. “Will you look at me, please?”
When he does, it only confirms my suspicions. The distance in his gaze has me biting back tears, out of fear. I’m scared of what’s to come. This past week and half has made me an emotional wreck. I need to know the truth about the letter. This guessing game is getting us nowhere, and my patience is wearing thin. “There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there—something you’re afraid to tell me. I can see it in your eyes.” He watches me carefully, without giving a response, then a moment later he slowly nods his head, gently brushing his thumb down my cheek. He looks sad. I cup his face in my hands. “Are you afraid you’re going to hurt me?”
He switches to a sitting position, resting his elbows on his knees, and I sit up and watch him. “I was waiting for the right time.” He turns to me. “But I guess there never really is a right time. And yes, I’m afraid of hurting you.”
“Try me.” I scoot over next to him then take his hand and squeeze it, deciding now would be a good time to go ahead and bring up the letter. “Does this have to do with the letter?”
He furrows his brows. “Letter?”
“The letter from your agent … about Brazil. I was getting a drink of water. It was just lying there—open—on the counter.” I rub his arm. “Did you think I wouldn’t support you if you wanted to go? Is that it?”
Something flashes in his features then quickly fades away, confusing me. “The letter.” He nods. “I wasn’t sure how you’d take it.” He stares at the floor. “I know how you are about people leaving.” Turning to face me, he says, “You don’t take it so well. I was worried you’d be upset.”
Narrowing my eyes, I reply, “I support you, Luke. If you want to fight, then go fight. I want you to be happy. I’d never try to hold you back from something you love.” I shrug. I mean, yeah, I’m going to miss you, but I can visit, and we can talk over the phone. We’ll work it out.”
He shakes his head and swallows. “It’s not that easy. They don’t allow visitors, and I don’t know when I’ll be able to call. My schedule’s going to be crazy.” His statement doesn’t sit right. Visitors aren’t allowed?
“Okay, well I guess we’ll figure that part out.” I frown. “Call them. Tell them you accept the offer.”
“I already did,” he replies, his eyes stare straight ahead.
“Oh.” It’s a little late to hide the expression of shock and disappointment on my face. I’m sad he didn’t come to me first before making his decision, simply out of respect. “So when are you leaving?”
“Friday.” His eyes move to mine, and he tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I’m at a loss for words.
Friday? Friday is only two days away. WTF? Tears prick the back of my eyes. I had no idea he’d have to leave so soon. Has he considered my feelings about this whole situation at all? I honestly don’t think he has … clearly. Oh God, I need to talk to Gia. What did he expect me to do—schedule my whole life around him? Because I should be considerate of his needs. But who cares about mine. Right?
“Reese,” he says softly. “Tell me what you’re thinking?”
I flick my gaze to his. “What am I thinking?” Here goes. “I’m thinking I’m a little hurt that you waited until now to tell me all of this. It’s a pretty big deal, Luke. And the only reason you told me is because I brought it up. Did you even think to consider my feelings at all?”
His face goes pale. “Of course I thought about your feelings.”
“I don’t think you did. I gave myself too much credit. Here I am wondering if I’m holding you back. I wanted to tell you I support you. But the truth is, your decision had nothing to do with me. You had already made it, and I was left in the dark. You were leaving anyway.”
He closes his eyes. “Come on, Reese. Don’t do this. Not right now.” He rubs the space between his brows.
I glare. “When would you like me to do it, Luke? Friday? It’s only two days away. Two days! Were you even planning on telling me? Or were you just going to leave?”
He clenches his jaw. “Look, I understand why you’re angry; you have every reason to be.” His eyes are watery, and it’s hard to even look in them. It plays with my mind.
“Well, I’m glad you understand.” I lift my brows and cross my arms. “Because that would have really sucked if you didn’t.” He growls, gripping the back of his neck. “Have you been playing me for a fool this whole time?” I shake my head. “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.” I bite back a sob, as the lump grows larger in my throat.
“Why would you say that?” He reaches out and wipes a tear from my cheek, pressing his lips into a tight line when I flinch at his touch. “You mean everything to me.” He sounds so sincer
e, but I’m not buying it—not anymore—not after this.
“I hope you realize my anger has nothing to do with your decision. I planned to stand behind you. I wanted this for you, do you understand?” I point then wipe away a few more tears. They won’t stop coming.
Placing his hands on my shoulders, he pleads, “I need you to listen to me. You’ve got it all wrong.”
“Let me finish!” I yell. “It’s your priorities, and where I come on that list. I can’t believe I thought I might even be a factor in your decision. What did you think was going to happen? You’d leave, without warning, and I’d have nothing better to do than wait around for the infamous Luke Ryann?”
That pisses him off. “Just let me explain and stop coming to your own conclusions?” he fumes then paces back and forth, tugging on his hair. “You’ve got this all wrong.”
I turn away because I can’t look at him anymore. “I understand what you meant when you said it would have been better if you had never walked back into my life,” I say quietly because I’m sobbing. “You wouldn’t have had to hurt me. Now it’s too late. I know you care about me, Luke—just not in the same way.”
“Fuck! Would you just listen for one second?” he yells, and I flinch.
“You should go,” I reply with my back facing him. A second later, there’s a loud noise and then the sound of a slamming door.
Yesterday morning was the last time I saw him. Aside from a few trips to the bathroom, I haven’t been able to get out of bed. What’s the point? Everything that surrounds me reminds me of him: my room, his lingering scent, this entire condo. That he gave me for free. “For free! Who does that?” I say out loud then throw another tissue toward the wastebasket and miss yet again.
“Knock, knock,” Gia says, making her way into my room. She went to the store to grab another box of Kleenex. “You need this?”
“Come in.” I give her a weak smile. “Thank you.”
“Were you talking to yourself just before I walked in?”
“Yep,” I reply with a sniffle.
She sits on my bed, and grabs a pillow, placing it in her lap. We’re both quiet for a minute before she decides to break the silence. “He’s in love with you. You know. Maybe you should give him a chance to explain himself. Logan says he’s a mess.”
“Screw Logan!” I growl. “And you’re wrong. He’s not in love with me. Not even close.”
“Hey!” She frowns. “Logan’s a good guy. He didn’t do anything to you.”
I roll my eyes. “The man drives me crazy, especially now that he’s sticking up for my liar ex-boyfriend.”
“So he’s a little immature and has his friend’s back.” She giggles. “But he means well, and he’s hot … sweet even. And Luke is not a liar. He’s just good at … keeping secrets.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. You should at least hear him out.”
I give a short, sarcastic laugh. “Now you’re starting to sound like Luke. What is with you two?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “Maybe we see things a little differently than you do. I’m not saying that we’re right and you’re wrong. Oh! That reminds me,” she snaps. “Your father called.”
I sit up and throw off my covers. “Really? When?
“A couple hours ago, after you cried yourself to sleep.” She makes a sad face. “He said he was just calling to check on you.”
I furrow my brows. “Why would he need to check on me? That’s new.”
“Maybe he’s trying to be your father for once.”
I get out of bed, seriously needing a shower. “Is Logan here?” I pull off my shirt then unbutton my jeans, kicking them off with my feet.
“No. He’ll be here soon. Are you going to call your dad back?”
I don’t even want to answer. I’m overwhelmed with everything else. “Man I stink. I’m going to go hop in the shower.” My eyes water again, so I head to the bathroom, biting back a flood of tears. The reality of what happened yesterday keeps flashing through my mind. I don’t look at her, but softly say, “I’m not avoiding your question Gia, I just … I just need to deal with one thing at a time right now. Adding my father to the mix of everything that’s going on is just too much for me to handle. You know what I mean?” She gets off my bed and pulls me into a big, warm hug. “I’ll call him when I’m feeling better.”
“I understand, completely.” She pulls away, keeping her hands on my shoulders, and when I look into her eyes I can see the emotion in them. “You’re a strong girl, Reese. You’re going to get through this. Everything will work out.” She means well, but I can’t say that I agree.
After a long sulk in the shower, I put on a light blue tank and a pair of white boy shorts then tidy up my room to keep busy. Every other minute, I check my phone for a text or missed call, and every time, my heart breaks a little more when I don’t see what I’m looking for.
“Reese,” Gia calls from the other room. I throw the rest of my pillows on the bed then grab my phone and make my way over to join her. She’s sitting on our couch in her pajamas, worrying her lip between her teeth, looking a little concerned. Then her eyes flick up, and she notices me standing beside her. “Logan just called,” she pauses, and I can tell there’s more she wants to say.
“And?” I arch a brow.
She scoots over and pats the spot next to her, and I take it. “Luke is with him. I guess he’s not doing so well.”
“Good. Neither am I. At least it shows he cares somewhat.”
“He said he’s wasted.”
“What? Why is he driving?” I shake my head, surprised. “And why would Luke let him?”
“No Reese, not Logan. It’s Luke. Luke is drunk.”
“Are you sure you heard him right?” I furrow my brows, confused. Luke doesn’t drink. He told me he quit, long before he started the job at the gym. Then again, he said he wasn’t fighting anymore either. Maybe he’s just a pathological liar, and I fell victim to his lies.
“I guess they were involved in some kind of a bar fight,” she murmurs.
“What?” My mouth drops. “Are they okay?”
“They’re fine, but I’m not sure about the other man. Apparently Luke walked right up to him and knocked him out with just one punch. Logan said he wouldn’t even give an explanation, just said the guy deserved it. Then he had to get him out of there before the police were called.”
“Did the guy know who he was? Anybody could have recognized him.” I run to my bedroom, digging through my closet for a sweatshirt and pants.
“No idea. What are you doing?” Gia asks, following behind me.
“I’m going to go wait outside.” Sure, I’m angry with Luke, but it doesn’t change the fact that I care about him—much more than I’d like to admit. His behavior has me worried. It’s just not like him to do these kinds of things. At least I think it isn’t.
“Wait. Let me get my shoes. I’ll come with you,” she replies. I watch her slide on a pair of pink flip-flops, and we make our way out the door. We cut through the grass and sit down next to the driveway in front of Luke’s place. “Brr, it’s cold out here,” she says.
“Why didn’t you grab a sweatshirt when we were inside?”
“Because I’m a dork and didn’t think about it at the time,” she grumbles. “I’ll run back and get one real quick.”
“Mine’s big enough to share if you want,” I reply. That’s because it’s Luke’s, and I’m not going to give it back, even if he asks for it. It’s the least he can do, since I gave him my heart—a shirt for a heart. I frown at the thought.
“Thanks, but I want my own.” She shivers. “Be right back.” She leaves me in total silence, except of course, for the crickets. I don’t understand why she’s so cold. It doesn’t seem much cooler than last night. Then again, she was dressed in warmer pajamas and fuzzy green socks to keep her feet warm.
I drop my gaze to my bare toes then my heart rate picks up when I hear the sound of male voices in the distance, g
etting louder by the second. Is that them? I thought they drove. I glance over my shoulder, looking for Gia, but she’s nowhere in sight. How long does it take to find a flipping jacket? Two male figures are headed my way, but it’s hard to see them in the shadows.
On the outside, I try to stay calm. On the inside, I’m totally freaking out. Do I smile? Do I frown? Do I act like I don’t care? What if I do care? Where the hell is Gia?
I step to the edge of the sidewalk as the figures come closer, trying to get a better look. “Well hello there,” an unfamiliar voice says. I’m immediately aware that these men are not who I thought they were, and would bet, one of them is the new neighbor Gia was talking about.
“Sorry, I thought you were somebody else,” I say politely, surprised by how much the man directly across from me resembles David Beckham. Gia was right, except I’m not noticing any tattoos.
He grins. “Must be a lucky guy.” His eyes sparkle, and he has a nice smile, but it doesn’t matter. I’m out here waiting for Luke. When I grin back and reach out my hand, Logan’s truck comes around the corner, and I’m back to square one, hoping Gia will hurry her ass up.
“I’m Reese,” I say quickly, attempting to look oblivious about the truck pulling up. “I live over there.” I hear them closing their doors, and it only takes seconds before someone’s walking toward us. The hair on the back of my neck stands up.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Sean, and this is Will.” He nods his head toward his friend and still hasn’t let go of my hand. “We live over there,” he says, his grin growing wider. I know Luke’s standing behind me. I can feel it, even before his hands grip my shoulders, and I turn around, looking into his eyes. They’re glossy and focused on the two men standing across from me.
“Is there a problem, boys?” he asks in a menacing tone. I turn back around, mortified by the lethal stare he’s pinning on them. They didn’t do anything wrong. Then again, neither did I.
Raising Ryann Page 19