The Opposite of Wild (25 page)

“I really need my sleep,” she said, avoiding his eyes because then she knew she’d cave.

He tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I just want to be with you.”

She gazed into his eyes, read the sincerity there. Without a word, she led him to her bedroom.

Once there, she fled to the bathroom. “I’ll be right back,” she called over her shoulder. She did a mad cleanup, hiding the tampons and pregnancy test she’d bought, scrubbing the toothpaste off the sink. She glanced in the mirror. Her hair was messed up on one side from leaning against his warm body, and she wore no makeup. She brushed out her hair. At least she could do that. After she’d finished brushing and flossing, she opened the door and handed him an extra toothbrush she kept on hand for guests.

“Thanks,” he said, looking at it with amusement. “This is mine from now on?”

He wants to keep a toothbrush at my place? That’s a good sign, isn’t it? Stop reading into things.

“Sure,” she said.

He disappeared into the bathroom.

She moved to her bed, placed the throw pillows to the side, fluffed up the sleeping pillows, and got in. She laid flat on her back, staring at the ceiling, wondering what it meant when a guy wanted to spend the night with you knowing he wasn’t going to get any. She hated feeling like the old Liz, thinking so much about the relationship. But that’s what a possible pregnancy could do for you. Bring everything to a very serious—if unstable—level.

Ryan stepped out a moment later, whistling. He peeled off his T-shirt and jeans and dropped them on the floor. Before she could ask him to fold them neatly and leave them on the dresser, he slipped under the covers next to her. She felt his heat instantly through her thin, cotton monkey pajamas. She turned off the lamp on her nightstand.

He pulled her close. She lay in his arms, chest to chest, their legs tangled together. His skin was warm, and she inhaled his woodsy male scent. She allowed herself the pleasure of running her hands up and down his back.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” she said.

“I’m not thinking anything,” he replied, kissing her hair.

“Really? Nothing at all?”

“A complete blank.”

“Oh.” She could feel his interest pressing hard against her leg.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

I’m worried I’m pregnant. I’m worried I’m not. I’m worried this was all a mistake.

“Nothing,” she said, rolling away from him.

He spooned her from behind, slipping one arm under her pillow, the other wrapped loosely around her middle. She snuggled into him, and he scooted her bottom away a bit. “Don’t move.”

She twined her fingers in his and sighed.

They lay there quiet in the dark. Unable to sleep, she listened to the even sound of his breathing until it seemed he’d fallen asleep.

In the silence, he suddenly spoke. “My old man will be at the wedding.”

She knew from Maggie that his father was a recovering alcoholic and that he’d abandoned Ryan and his brothers. “How long has it been since you last saw him?”

“Since I was seventeen. He was a drunk. I heard he sobered up, but I still don’t want to see him. What do I need from him? Nothing.”

She felt a rush of tenderness that he’d shared what was obviously a difficult subject for him. She knew he did need his father on some level. Even if it was just to tell him he didn’t want him in his life. Ryan needed that closure.

“You only get one family,” she said softly. “Only one father.”

“I have family,” he snapped. “Gran, my brothers. That’s what counts.”

“I know.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m not saying you owe him anything. You don’t. But just talk to him at least once before the wedding. Maggie doesn’t deserve any drama on her big day. She deserves peace and happiness.”

He grunted in response.

She rubbed his arm soothingly. “Just do it for Maggie, okay?”

There was a long silence, and she thought he wasn’t going to answer.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally said. “Good night.” He held her hand in the dark.

The warmth of his body and the exhaustion of the past week caught up with her. “Night,” she muttered. Her last thought before she drifted off was that at least things were good with them in the bedroom.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Liz woke early a few days later with some mild cramping. She was a day late for her period. Was it cramps or the implantation of the embryo? She’d done a lot of reading on early pregnancy symptoms online and found she had most of them: tender breasts, bloating, irritability. Of course, that could also be PMS.

She headed to the bathroom to check. She’d gotten her period. She let out a deep breath. Okay. Life could go back to normal.

She washed up, got back in bed, and reached for her cell to text the only two people in the world who knew about it. First Ryan:
I’m not pregnant
. Then Rachel:
Not pg
.

Rachel was already up and texted back right away:
Hallelujah. Meet me for lunch. My treat.

Liz wasn’t in the mood, but she appreciated Rachel’s support so she texted back:
OK
.

Her phone rang a minute later. Ryan.

“Hey, Liz, that’s great news! We dodged a bullet there.”

Her throat felt tight. She just couldn’t be cheerful about the whole thing. “I guess we did,” she managed.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m just not feeling too well. I’m going to try to get some more sleep.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Bye.” She hung up and curled onto her side, hugging herself while the tears flowed freely, as she mourned the loss of what might have been.

~ ~ ~

After a full day and night of grief, interrupted only by a quick lunch with Rachel, where Liz was no kind of company, it was with a measure of relief that she left her apartment and went out into the sunshine of a late August Saturday. She drove to Maggie’s house, as per her request by text last night, to help her find the perfect wedding dress.

They got into Maggie’s convertible, top down of course. Maggie’s outfit—black T-shirt with gold lettering that read
Jorge Chavez Dance Studio
, white pleather mini-skirt, and white Keds—had Liz wondering what she had in mind for her dress.

“Where to?” Liz asked. “Kelly’s Bridals? The Majestic Bride?”

“Let’s hit the juniors’ section at Macy’s. I liked the look of this year’s crop of prom dresses.”

Liz raised her eyebrows. “Prom dresses? Are you sure?”

Maggie smacked her arm. “Course I’m sure. Let’s hit the road.”

Liz pulled out and headed toward the mall.

“I’m thinking something with sequins,” Maggie said, powering down her window. “Maybe purple.”

Liz could just picture it. Maggie was petite enough to wear a junior size, but purple sequins for a church wedding? Jorge would probably find it charming—most everything Maggie did was adorable in his love-goggled eyes. But what about Father Munson?

“I did white the first time around,” Maggie said, running her fingers through her pixie haircut in the breeze. “Second time calls for purple. I’m no virgin bride.” She laughed.

Liz laughed uneasily.

“How’s the baby?” Maggie asked.

Liz stiffened, then realized Maggie was talking about her nephew. “Bryce is good. My mom says he’s nursing well and Daisy’s getting the hang of things.”

“Good. Did she get a sleeper?”

“I don’t know. She does sound tired, but my mom said all new mothers are tired.”

“Those first few months can be rough. Course I only had Jack with nothing to compare it to. But things smoothed out between us around three months.”

“I think they’re doing okay,” Liz said, accelerating as they left town. The wind whipped around them now. Liz had come prepared with a snug baseball cap over her ponytail. Maggie didn’t care; she loved her hair in the breeze.

When they reached the juniors’ section, the clothing racks were full of fall sweaters, skirts, and pants for the upcoming back-to-school season. Liz stopped a saleswoman. “Do you have any prom dresses left?”

The saleswoman raised her brows at the strange request, months after prom season, but pointed them in the right direction. “Just what’s on the clearance racks in the back.”

Maggie hurried eagerly to the back of the store.

At least she’ll get a good price. Everything’s seventy percent off.

Maggie began pulling bright colored dresses from the rack, the shinier the better, and throwing them into Liz’s arms. Twenty minutes later, they staggered into the dressing room, where Liz helped her hang all the dresses on the wall hooks.

Liz sat on the bench across from the three-way mirror at the end of the dressing area and waited.

Maggie emerged from her dressing room a short time later with a neon yellow sequined sleeveless dress that reached the floor. She had to lift the hem to make it to the three-way mirror. She turned right and left, admiring herself. “I think I’ll need to take it in a little,” she said, pulling up the bodice that she didn’t quite fill out.

“Maybe not that one,” Liz said. No teen girl in her right mind would wear that hideous yellow thing to prom.

“You’re right, not fancy enough.” Maggie swished back to the dressing room.

The next one was a pink baby doll dress that ended mid-thigh in an explosion of tulle. She looked like a grandma ballerina. There was a reason they didn’t exist.

Maggie twirled in front of the mirror. “More sequins,” she pronounced before flouncing back to the dressing room.

Liz breathed a sigh of relief to be spared from having to reject that one. Her cell rang. “Be right back!” She slipped out of the dressing room to answer it.

It was Ryan. “Hey, Liz. Can you do dinner tonight?”

She hesitated. Was she ready for a date with him? For things to move beyond the casual? Could she take that chance?

“Are you there?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m here. Sure.”

“Great, I’ll pick you up at seven. It’s a nice place, so dress up a bit.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

She smiled back, though she knew he couldn’t see her. “Okay. I’ll see you then. Bye.”

“Liz!” Maggie called. “Can you help me with this zipper?”

She hurried in to help Maggie zip up an emerald green mermaid gown. She could barely move in the thing. Liz watched her shuffle to the mirror to confirm she did indeed look like a mermaid from all angles.

“Too fishy!” Maggie proclaimed.

Liz guided her back into the dressing room and helped her lose the tail.

Half an hour—and more hideous dresses than Liz cared to remember—later, Maggie announced, “This is the one!”

Liz held her breath as Maggie opened the dressing room door, beaming. “My wedding dress. What do you think?”

It was a bright, tangerine orange, floor-length gown with a deep V-neck, silver sequin trim along the empire waist, and a high slit on the left thigh. Something maybe Angelina Jolie could get away with on the red carpet, but no one else. The color was just…so…orange. And it was so…revealing.

Maggie admired herself from all sides in the three-way mirror and turned to Liz expectantly.

If Maggie’s happy, that’s all that matters.

“It’s perfect,” Liz said.

“And it’s seventy percent off! What a steal! I can’t believe it was still on the rack!”

Of course it was. No teen girl wants to look like a slutty tangerine at her prom.

Liz smiled. “Amazing!”

~ ~ ~

Nerves hummed through Liz as she tried and discarded outfit after outfit for her first official date with Ryan. She knew she was being ridiculous. They’d spent lots of time together already. It was just that most of it had been moaning and naked. What would they say to each other?

She finally settled on tailored pink pants that had a little give in the waist to accommodate her bloating.
Blech
. She added a bright red and pink floral top and wedged heels. She took her time with her makeup, carefully applying foundation, eyeliner, mascara, and blush. A pink lipstick that matched her pants.

The doorbell rang right on time. He stood there in a button-down shirt with a blazer and crisp khakis. The most she’d seen him dressed up.

“You look nice,” she said.

He stepped inside and kissed her cheek. “You too. Ready to go?”

“Ready.”

He drove out of town, and Liz wondered where they were heading. “Can you at least tell me the town?” she asked.

“Nope.”

A long silence passed. He fiddled with the radio, looking for a station. She discreetly wiped the sweat off her hands.

“What’s new?” Liz finally asked.

“Nothing.” He glanced over. “Anything new with you?”

“Just…you know.” She folded her hands tightly in her lap.

“What a relief, right?”

“Sure.” She looked out the window as they passed elegant homes. The reminder of her almost pregnancy brought the grief back.

She remained silent on the rest of the drive, her thoughts dwelling on what possible future she could have with Ryan. He drove, oblivious to her darkening mood.

Finally, they pulled into Alberto’s. Ryan ignored the valet and pulled to the back to self-park. Alberto’s was in a ritzy town a half-hour drive from Clover Park and was well known as one of the top restaurants in the county.

“I’ve heard the food is really good here,” Liz said.

“That’s what Shane told me.” He parked and opened her car door for her.

The restaurant had been converted from a gorgeous old two-story colonial done in a golden yellow with white trim. The white rails of a second-story wraparound porch caught her attention. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined what appeared to be an added-on conservatory. She stepped inside a wood-paneled lobby, where he gave his name for the reservation.

A moment later, they were shown to their table in a large dining room with vaulted ceilings and crown molding. Windows around the room let in the last rays of setting sun. Large watercolors of Italian countryside hung on the walls. Round tables covered in white tablecloths filled the room.