The List (19 page)

C
ami wanted me to go out with her friends again on Wednesday night, but just thinking about it made my head pound. There was no way I could do it. Her friends were a little wild for my taste, plus I had too much on my mind to try to make small talk with a bunch of giggly girls who only thought about getting laid. Seriously, that's what they had talked about most of the night. Since I hadn't crossed number thirteen off my list yet, I'd had absolutely nothing to add to the conversation.

I was in the middle of trying to figure out how to get out of it when my phone rang. It was my dad.

“Hi, Daddy,” I said, ducking outside so I could have some privacy.

“Annie.”

His voice shook and I had to squeeze my eyes shut when the usual guilt rolled over me.
Hold on, this will only hurt a little . . .

“How's California?” My voice squeaked like a little, tiny mouse.

“I miss you, honey. Why couldn't you have come home for Thanksgiving?”

Nope. That hurt way more than I expected it to.

“We talked about this, Daddy. It was just too expensive.” Total lie and we both knew it. “I couldn't afford a ticket for Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

“Annie, you know I would have paid for it.”

There was no way to win this conversation.

“Did Adam make it home?”

Dad sighed and the sound sliced me in half. “I picked him up in Sacramento this morning.”

“Then you're good. You have him and Aiden and Austin. You guys can watch football and drink beer and do guy stuff. I'll be home at Christmas.”

“I just want to know you're safe.”

“I'm on the phone with you right now, Dad. Of course I'm safe.”

“I just worry, Annie.” His voice shook.

The door behind me opened and I spun around just as Ryan stepped out. He froze when he saw me. I swallowed and his eyes held mine.

“Annie? Are you there?” The panic in my dad's voice brought me back to the present.

“Sorry, Dad, I got distracted.”

“Is everything okay?”

“It is. Dad, I need to get going. Cami and I were getting ready to go out.”

“Go out? Where? By yourselves? Are you sure that's safe?”

I exhaled and worked at controlling my breathing. Ryan didn't move behind me.

“It's okay, Daddy. We're just going to a movie. We'll be careful.”

“Be safe, Annie.”

“I will. Talk to you later.”

When I turned around, Ryan was staring at me. “Your dad?”

I nodded. He took a step toward me, but I shook my head. I was too exhausted to play games with him.

 

After Cami left to meet up with her friends, I walked down to the river. The house was stifling, but being outside didn't seem any better. The air was cooler and the breeze from the water was nice, but I still couldn't breathe. It was like someone had wrapped their hand around my lungs and was squeezing, trying to prevent me from getting air. It was working.

I walked to the end of a small dock and eased down, setting my flip-flops behind me and wiggling my toes. My legs dangled over the water. I stretched out my feet, grazing the surface with the tips of my toes. I'd only been there for a few seconds when footsteps pounded down the dock behind me. I stiffened and took a deep breath. They were too heavy to be Cami's.

Ryan sat down beside me, leaving about six inches of space between us. It felt like a mile. “Cami ditch you, Buttercup?”

I shrugged and stared at the water. “Not really. She wanted me to go, but I didn't feel like it. I'm tired.” That was the understatement of the year.

Ryan didn't say anything, so I finally tore my eyes away from the rippling river. He was watching me. Smiling. It made my heart pound.

Ryan leaned over and nudged me with his shoulder. “I'm glad you're here.”

“Why?” He didn't act like he wanted me around. Ever.

He frowned and turned to face the water. “You know why.”

I did and I didn't, but I kept my mouth shut. There was no sense rehashing the same conversation over and over again.

“Your aunt and uncle are nice,” I said.

Ryan's lips turned up and he nodded. “They've always treated me like a son.”

“I'm sure that would make your mom happy.”

He swallowed and the smile melted away. “I'm not sure there's a whole lot that would have made my mom happy.”

I blinked and tried to wrap my mind around his words, but they didn't make any sense. “Why do you say that?”

Ryan flinched and shifted, keeping his eyes on the water. Maybe I shouldn't have asked. Questions about my mom were off limits.

“I'm sorry,” I said. “You don't have to tell me anything.”

He didn't move his head, but his eyes darted my way before going back to the water. “It's okay.”

“I know you don't like to talk about it.”

He took a deep breath, then slowly turned to face me. His gray eyes locked on mine and I inhaled. The magnetic pull was back, stronger than ever before. We were so alone on the dock. There was no chance anyone would interrupt us and it was almost impossible for me to stay away from him. I shifted and every muscle in my body jerked, moving me closer to him. Time stood still, but everything around us swirled; the water below us, the trees above. His eyes never left mine.

A splash in the water made me jump and Ryan tore his eyes away from mine. He bolted to his feet and grabbed my arm, pulling me back from the water. “'Gator!”

My eyes scanned the water and my heart literally stopped beating. An alligator that had to be close to seven feet long had surfaced only five feet from where we'd been sitting.

I scrambled back, stumbling over my own feet. Falling to my knees. Then I jumped up and ran from the dock. Ryan chuckled behind me and my heart started working again. Only it was beating so fast I had a hard time catching my breath.

I spun around to face Ryan, who was lazily walking toward me with my flip-flops in his hand. “Why are you laughing?”

He shook his head and ran his fingers through his blond hair, grinning at me. “It was funny.”

“Almost getting eaten by an alligator is amusing to you?”

He dropped my flip-flops at my feet, chuckling. “You didn't get almost eaten. He wasn't even close.”

I huffed and rolled my eyes, then shoved my feet into my waiting shoes. “Sorry if sharp teeth scare me.”

Ryan chuckled again and put his arm around my shoulders; it made my heartbeat change from a constant pounding to a dull thump that vibrated through my skull. He started walking, dragging me with him. His arm stayed around my shoulders.

“Come on. I want to show you something.”

I nodded and padded along with him, but it wasn't easy. My feet were like two weights. I had a difficult time lifting them.

We walked farther from the house, past gardens and huge oak trees. The branches stretched across the sky, tangling together over our heads while the Spanish moss swayed with the breeze. Birds sang and squirrels skittered across the ground, and everywhere we turned, huge azalea bushes grew, blooming with pinks, purples, reds, and whites.

“It's so pretty here,” I managed to get out after a few minutes.

Ryan nodded and his hand slipped down. His fingers rested on my waist and my breath caught in my throat. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to imagine we were together. That I hadn't run over Chris's toes. That when Ryan rescued me from that drunk at the bar, Chris had no claim on me.

Ryan stopped walking and my eyes opened. We stood in front of a cemetery surrounded by an old iron fence and dozens of azalea bushes. Most of the headstones were ancient and crumbling, too damaged by the weather and age to even make out the names. But there were newer ones too.

“This is where my uncle's family is buried. Where we buried my mom.”

I swallowed and his hand moved lower. He laced his fingers with mine and pulled me through the open gate. His shoulders were tense and his jaw tight, and his palm was moist against mine.

We stopped in front of a headstone that had DARCY COLE inscribed on it. Ryan dropped my hand and kneeled down next to it. He placed his hand over his mother's name and closed his eyes. His shoulders shook.

“Ryan, I—” My throat tightened, and I couldn't think of a single thing to say. He didn't even talk about his mom, but he'd brought me to her grave. What did it mean?

He didn't open his eyes. “She was sick my whole life.”

I exhaled and lowered myself to the ground next to him. Ryan's hand dropped to his side and he fell back, as if his legs couldn't hold him anymore. He raised his eyes to mine and they shimmered with tears.

“We lived alone when I was really little, but I don't remember. She couldn't . . .” He swallowed. “. . . keep a job.”

He glanced at the headstone. When he turned back, a tear slipped from the corner of his eye. He brushed it aside so fast I could almost convince myself I'd imagined it. “We moved here when I was two. My aunt raised me, even before my mom died. I know Mom tried her best and she loved me, but she just couldn't cope.” He took a deep breath and his lips twitched before turning up into a sad smile. “Still, there were times when she'd be better for a while and she'd take me to the beach or downtown. But it was rare.” His smile faded.

An ache sliced through me. I wanted to wrap my arms around him, but that would be crossing a line. Wouldn't it? “You don't have to talk about it, Ryan.”

The corner of his mouth turned up into a sad smile. “I want to, Buttercup. I've never wanted to talk to anyone about her before, but with you . . .”

His eyes held mine. The wind blew a few strands of hair across my face, tickling my nose. I lifted my hand to push them aside, but Ryan beat me to it. He tucked them behind my ear and his fingertips trailed down my cheek to my jaw. I held my breath.

His hand fell to his side and he exhaled, then climbed to his feet. “Let's go for a walk.”

We headed back toward the house, but the pace was slow. Relaxing and soothing, yet filled with melancholy. His hand brushed against mine, but he didn't hold it like before.

He nudged my arm and smiled down at me. “So how's that list of yours coming?”

My body stiffened and the comfortable atmosphere slipped away. “Is this your way of asking if Chris and I have slept together?”

His eyes darted to my face, then up to the sky. “No . . . I kind of already know the answer to that one.”

I stopped moving. “You asked him?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground. “Not really. He told me.”

I shook my head. There was no way I'd heard him right. “Excuse me?”

Ryan cleared his throat and I took a step closer. He finally tore his eyes away from the ground and met mine. “He told me about that night in your dorm room. How you wanted to . . .”

A rush of heat swept up my neck to my cheeks. “You mean when he turned me down? Just like you did?”

Ryan raked his hand through his hair and took a step closer to me. “You know I wanted to.”

“Did you?”

He groaned and moved closer. “God, Buttercup. Every second I'm with you is like this magnificent torture. I live to be with you, but it burns. Deep inside me.”

My heart hammered against my ribs, like it was trying to force its way out of my body. My brain was on overload, spinning around in circles while I tried to decide what to do. All I wanted was him.

“Chris is just a distraction, so I can try to get you out of my system.”

“How's that working?”

I laughed and it was loud and bitter. A group of birds took off from the trees above us, making me jump. I ended up less than six inches from him, and he exhaled. His warm breath brushed across my cheek and my blood burst into flames, shooting to every nerve ending in my body. Scorching me from the inside out.

“Not at all,” I whispered.

Ryan's gray eyes consumed me. They pulled me in and I couldn't do a thing to stop it. I took a step closer, and my breasts pressed against his chest. He inhaled when I ran my hand up his chest to his shoulders, then gripped the back of his neck. He didn't resist. His mouth covered mine and his hands grabbed my hips, pulling me against him. His lips were gentle, coaxing my mine apart, so he could explore my mouth with his tongue. I melted into the kiss, running my tongue over his while threading my fingers through his hair.

My heart was pounding by the time he pulled away. He brushed my hair back and frowned. “I can't seem to stay away from you.”

“I don't want you to.”

“I don't want to either.”

My heart jumped. “Then don't.”

“It isn't that simple, Buttercup.”

“Yes, it is.”

Ryan frowned and his arms fell from my body. He took a step back and an overwhelming sense of loss came over me.

“Chris would never forgive me.”

“Your aunt seems to think he would.”

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “So she talked to you too.”

I nodded, and even though the tears were so thick they clogged my throat, I managed to keep them inside.

“Well, she's wrong. Chris could forgive a lot of things, but you . . .” He shook his head again. “You don't know, Buttercup, and I can't tell you.”

My heart stuttered like a dying engine. “So that's it, then? Chris gets to tell us whether or not we can be happy?”