Only With You

by Alexander, Monica

  I might have been annoyed with him in that moment, but he was kind of bailing me out, so I couldn’t be that pissed off. In his own way, he was being a good friend – even if it meant he was going to take Olivia down to the den so he could hook up with her. I didn’t care. I wasn’t interested in her anymore.

  “But I was hanging out with Ryder,” she protested.

  “He’s busy.”

  “Was that his girlfriend?” she questioned.

  Jake laughed. “Yeah right.”

  I shot him a middle finger over my shoulder. He just laughed again.

  When I got back to my room, I closed and locked the door behind me, figuring Jake would be tied up for a while occupying Olivia, but I didn’t want to chance any of the other guys barging in. I wasn’t sure why Syd was there, but she’d risked a lot coming to a college campus alone in the middle of the night. I didn’t see any of her security guys with her. Maybe they were outside.

  “How did you get here?” I asked, turning around to face her.

  She’d pulled the beanie off of her head, letting her long brown hair fall down her back as she leaned back against the carpeted loft. She moved so her elbows were resting on the platform and the hem of her hoodie moved up to expose just an inch of her tanned stomach that I wanted to plant my lips on for several days. That inch of skin was the freaking devil. It was driving me mad, and I couldn’t look away from it. It was seriously giving me a semi. This girl had her hooks in me so far, and she didn’t even know it. I was gone. G-O-N-E. Gone. And I kind of hated her for it.

  “In a car,” she said sarcastically.

  “You drove?”

  I didn’t think she drove anywhere anymore.

  She nodded. “Yes. I used Dillon’s rental car since I gave him my hotel room for the night.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “You borrowed your boyfriend’s car so you could come yell at me for blowing you off?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Yes, I did,” she said indignantly. “Except, he’s not really my boyfriend.”

  Say what?

  “Then who the hell is he?” I demanded.

  “He’s my fake boyfriend,” she said, and my head started to spin.

  Seriously?

  “Fake? But last night you acted like he was real and coming to visit you, so you could sing some duet with him,” I said derisively, not believing what I was hearing.

  “He has a girlfriend back home,” she muttered. “His label doesn’t like her, so they set us up. It’s all for show. He’s just a good friend. So good, in fact, that tonight I flew his girlfriend down so they could spend some time together and gave them my hotel suite.”

  “That was nice of you.”

  She shrugged. “I guess.”

  I narrowed my eyes then, realizing I’d gotten upset and left the night before over nothing, but then again, she’d led me to believe he was her boyfriend. And that pissed me off. “Why didn’t you tell me that last night? That he wasn’t really your boyfriend?”

  She was supposed to be my best fucking friend, and as far as I knew, we’d never kept secrets from each other in the past. What made her start now? I didn’t believe for a second that it was the distance. She’d had an ulterior motive. Maybe she had been trying to push me away, but if that was the case, what was she doing here now?

  She sighed. “The only people on my team who knows the truth are Chris and Laurie. There were three people standing nearby last night when Dillon called me, so I couldn’t exactly tell you the truth. Then you left a minute later.”

  Oh. Right. I had done that, but only because of what she’d said. Now I felt like an asshole.

  “So who is Jake exactly?” she asked me then, changing the subject.

  “He’s my roommate,” I muttered, not sure why she was asking about him. There was no way she was interested in him. “I’ve told you about him before.”

  She nodded. “He’s not the womanizing jerk who sleeps with multiple women in a week, is he?”

  “Yeah, that’s Jake, and I get the great honor of sharing a very thin wall with him,” I said, patting the wood that separated our caves. “It’s charming, really.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said, shaking her head. “You were hooking up with that girl.”

  She looked pissed all of a sudden, and her mouth had twisted into a distasteful sneer. What was she pissed about now? Was she actually mad that I’d been making out with Olivia? That was so not cool. She had absolutely no right.

  There was no way she could expect me to spend my life pining away for her when she didn’t want me. I’d taken a shot. She’d had her chance, and she’d chosen to reject me. And when she’d pushed me away, every hope that I had about her being the girl for me, came crashing down like a house of cards – that were actually made of bricks now that I think about it – and they’d crushed my poor heart to pulp when they fell. She’d fucking ruined me. I’d been a mess for months because of her.

  Yeah, I was being dramatic. I was drunk. Sue me. But fuck if she was going to be mad at me for moving on. I didn’t need that shit.

  “Who was she?” Sydney demanded when I didn’t answer her.

  I shrugged. “She’s just a girl.”

  “She’s not your girlfriend?”

  I shook my head. “Nope,” I said crisply. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  I‘d never had a girlfriend, because I was an idiot who spend half his life wanting a girl he couldn’t have and the other half comparing every girl he met to her. I hadn’t even hung out with any other girls until Sydney moved away. Then when I’d kissed a girl for the first time, I’d looked at her and thought, she’s not who I want. She’s not Sydney. So I’d never stayed with anyone long enough for them to become my girlfriend.

  #stupidunrequitedfeelings

  #Ryderisanidiot

  #whendidistartspeakinginhastags?

  Damn, I was really fucking drunk. And I just wanted to lie down. Without another word, I hoped up onto the platform and unceremoniously flopped back onto the couch.

  Sydney narrowed her eyes at me as she turned around. “So do you make out with random girls often?” she snapped, resting her forearms on the platform.

  Was that really jealousy in her tone?

  “I guess,” I said, aiming for aloof. Let her think I was a giant player. Was there actually a chance that she might want me then? Was that seriously a possibility? “The randoms pass the time, since I haven’t met anyone yet who I can see myself actually dating.”

  Outside of you, but you don’t want me. Are you changing your mind? Are you? Please say yes.

  “Who are you?” she asked then, so obviously not impressed by me.

  And the house of bricks came crashing down once again. I was like one giant, epic, fucking fail no matter what I tried with her. But like they say, when you’re down, you can’t get any lower.

  “Ryder Thompson, International Stud,” I said, shrugging and completely using one of Jake’s lame ass lines. I didn’t care anymore. I was so done. Let her think I was an ass. I could give a shit.

  Then she laughed, and I wanted to groan at how sweet and tantalizing the sound was. I fucking loved it. I was so not done.

  “Whatever,” I told her. “You can date Asshole Actor, Boy Band Douche and Aussie Rock Star Guy, but I can’t hook up with a few sorority chicks? Please.”

  “What the hell is that? Do you have nicknames for every guy I’ve ever been with or something?” she demanded.

  Yeah, come to think of it, I did.

  I shrugged. “Maybe. They’re all idiots, so I’d rather not remember their real names. They all treat you like shit, and you let them.”

  Okay, that was mean. But it was kind of true.

  “I’m not actually dating Dillon!” she insisted, not refuting my statement. She knew I was right. “I just told you that. And he’s a really nice guy. I also told you last night that Paul was gay. Truthfully, I thought you’d really like him. He thought you were hot when he saw you at the
show two nights ago.”

  Okay, that was odd. A gay guy thought I was hot. Should I be flattered or weirded out? I wasn’t sure.

  “Uh, tell him thanks, I guess.”

  She sighed exasperatedly. “I actually thought about hooking you up with him if you were single, but that went out the window. You’re not gay.”

  No, I’m not. Never have been, in fact.

  “Why in the hell would you think about hooking me up with a guy?” I asked her.

  Apparently it was because she actually thought I was gay – like, for real. I realized then that I’d never asked her why she’d made that comment about thinking Jake was my boyfriend. Did she seriously think that?

  She threw her hands up in the air. “Because I obviously thought you were gay!” she shouted.

  Well, yeah, I got that.

  “I’m obviously not!” I shouted back.

  “I know that!” she screamed, and I just shook my head.

  What the hell was going on?

  I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. I didn’t need to keep yelling at her.

  “Did you seriously think I was gay?” I asked her in disbelief, since I could not wrap my head around that concept.

  “Yes,” she said softly, all traces of anger gone from her voice.

  Shit. Seriously?

  “I’m really not.”

  “Well, I know that now!”

  What the fuck? No, seriously. What. The. Fuck?!

  “How could you honestly think I was gay?!” I questioned, my voice rising about three octaves, which I was well-aware didn’t make me sound any less gay than she apparently thought I was. “I’m not. Trust me. I’ve never even kissed another guy before. I’m definitely not gay. Why would you think I was gay? Seriously? I mean, come on?”

  I was babbling in a really high-pitched tone. Why wouldn’t my voice drop? I sounded like a little girl!

  “But you’ve never dated any girls,” she reasoned, and I felt like laughing. It was that comical.

  “Yes, I have.”

  Then she started to get mad. “Ryder, I’m your best friend. I’ve known you since you were eight, and you’ve never dated any girls.”

  “I’ve dated tons of girls, but I didn’t start dating until junior year of high school, and you were already living in L.A. Hell, I lost my virginity to Megan Bates in the back of her SUV after the homecoming game that year.”

  Her jaw dropped open, and I wondered if I’d taken it too far. She probably didn’t need to know that I’d slept with one of the girls from our high school she’d never gotten along with.

  A lot of the girls we went to school with hadn’t liked Sydney for some reason. I didn’t know if it was because she was equally as talented as she was gorgeous or if it was because she’d just always gotten along with guys better, but she didn’t really have many girl friends when we were growing up. And Megan and her friends hadn’t ever been very nice to Sydney, which is another reason I never told Syd I hooked up with her. And I could see from her face that she wasn’t happy with me for doing that.

  “Megan Bates?! Really, Ryder?! What were you thinking? And how the hell did I not know that? We talked on the phone all the time. I saw you plenty of times, and you never thought to bring that up?”

  “No, I didn’t bring it up. What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I miss you, and by the way, don’t be mad at me, but I screwed Megan last night?’”

  “No! But you could have told me you were seeing her. You never talked to me about any girls, and you’ve never once changed your status to ‘In a Relationship’ on Facebook.”

  That’s because I was in love with you, hence no relationships for Ryder.

  And the last thing I’d ever do was announce to the world that I had a girlfriend via social media. Not cool.

  “That’s because I’ve never had a girlfriend,” I explained, instead of telling the truth. “But I’ve dated, and I’ve had a decent amount of sex – with women – but I’ve never wanted to get serious with anyone. I didn’t tell you about any of the girls, because they weren’t important enough to me.”

  Sydney was looking at me as if I’d suddenly sprouted horns and started speaking in tongues.

  “What?” I asked, annoyed at the turn this conversation had taken.

  “Holy crap. My mind is spinning right now,” she said, putting her hands on either side of her head. “All these years, I completely thought you were gay.”

  “Not even close.”

  Then she looked hurt, and I wondered why. “Oh, my God. This makes it so much worse!”

  “What? What’s worse?” I asked, sitting up.

  “The kiss,” she said, as she buried her head in her hands.

  Crap. I honestly hoped she wouldn’t bring that up. Couldn’t we just move past the embarrassment?

  “Our kiss?” I questioned, stalling for time. She nodded, her head still in her hands. “You mean the best kiss I’ve ever had?”

  Okay, where did that come from? I wasn’t supposed to actually say that out loud. I’d thought it for months, but I wasn’t supposed to tell her that.

  Her head suddenly popped up, her eyes wide. “Are you serious?”

  Too late to take it back now.

  “Yeah, I’m dead serious. That kiss pretty much ruined me. You pretty much ruined me.”

  And there I was, out on a limb for her to reach out and push me right off so I could fall to my death. If she rejected me again, I knew I was going straight into the bathroom to drown myself in the toilet. Just let it be over. Make the lambs stop screaming!

  “Me?! Why?” she asked, and she sounded like she might be on the verge of tears.

  So I took a deep breath and prepared myself to put everything on the line, tell her all of it, because I’d been holding it in for too many years. Thank God I was drunk. I wouldn’t initially feel the pain of rejection.

  In the morning I would feel it, and then I would end things by drinking a bottle of arsenic, because I knew she was going to reject me again. Of course, I wasn’t exactly sure where to find arsenic, so maybe I’d just throw myself off the roof of the house like in Jake’s fake play. Ooh! Or I could throw myself directly into Lake Alice and let the alligators finish me off. That would be less messy – no body to clean up.

  Oh, Jesus. What was I thinking? I was in a dark, dark place if my brain was getting excited about the different ways I could gruesomely off myself.

  Then I made the mistake of looking at Syd, and I saw something in her eyes that I’d seen once before – on New Year’s Eve. It was the look that had given me the courage to kiss her that night. The look I’d read wrong. Unless, she’d only rejected me that night because she thought I was gay. Could that be it? But I’d kissed her. How could she think I was gay after I kissed her? Was it a bad kiss? Did it seem like I was inexperienced in kissing women? Why was my brain hurting?

  I needed some answers, and in order to get them, I figured it was confession time.

  “Sydney,” I said, gathering my sanity and praying to whichever deity might hear me as I stood and reached for her hands. She let me take them, so I slid my hands down to her waist and pulled her up onto the platform. “Here’s the deal. I’ve pretty much been in love with you since we were thirteen, but I knew you never felt the same way. Then in January when we were at my house and we were drinking, I took a chance. I kissed you. Then you pretty much shot me down, and it really sucked. That’s why. Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.”

  Okay, time to go ahead and just die now. But I was very aware of the fact that she didn’t push me away, and my hands were still on her waist.

  “You rejected me!” she suddenly said, her voice reaching an octave I’d only ever heard when she sang.

  “No, I didn’t. I kissed you, and when I pulled back, you were looking at me like I had two heads, and I knew you hated it.”

  “Because I thought you were gay! I was confused!”

  Okay, so apparently she had thought that.

  “Ho
w could you seriously think I was gay?! We were best friends. Do you not think that if I was gay I would have told you?”

  “I don’t know. I figured you didn’t want to talk about it,” she said softly.

  “Syd, I would have told you something like that. I tell you everything else.”

  Her eyes shifted, and she looked up at me through her lashes. God, she was so beautiful. “Then how come you never told me about the girls you dated,” she asked, probably because the answer I’d given her before was bullshit, and she knew it.

  I sighed. “Because I didn’t want you to think about me with other girls. I didn’t want to talk about them with you. Whenever we talked, all I could think about was you. The other girls didn’t matter. You were the only girl I ever wanted to be with, and I couldn’t have you. But I always held out hope that one day you’d change your mind, and I didn’t want me having a girlfriend to keep anything from happening between us.” I shook my head. “It’s pathetic. I know.”

  “It’s not pathetic,” she said softly, as her hands covered mine and her thumbs ran over the backs of my hands, sending chills up my arms. I knew she was just comforting me, but it felt so damn good. “It’s actually kind of sweet. How come you never told me?”

  Ugh. I didn’t need her pity.

  I shrugged. “I had a good reason for that.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Rejection. It sucks. See me standing here right now, rejected? It’s not a fun place to be, and I’ve been feeling it for years but even more so in the past few months.”

  Then I wasn’t so sure I’d actually been rejected anymore as she lifted my hands from her waist and laced our fingers together between us in a really intimate way.

  She shook her head. “I didn’t reject you, Ryder,” she said softly, leaning closer, and my heart started to pound. “I never rejected you. I wanted to be with you that night, and you rejected me. And it sucked.”

  My eyes got wide in that moment. “Say what?”

  Holy shit! Did she just say she wanted to be with me? I couldn’t think. I couldn’t focus. Then suddenly, she was standing on her tiptoes, her mouth was on mine, and her hands were sliding around to grip the back of my neck.

  Then in one swift move, she pushed me back onto the couch, her lips assaulting mine, searing and hot as she crawled up over me and put her hands on either side of my face, holding me there. All around me fireworks were shooting off, as I tried to rationalize what was happening. Sydney was kissing me. Me. Apparently she wanted me. Damn, she was a good kisser, and she tasted like candy. Holy shit. She was actually kissing me. And I was just lying there doing nothing.