Burn Into Me (17 page)

He unwraps my arms and put my hands on the ladder, gently pushing me forward. Shaking, I close my eyes and step onto the first rung.
 

“That’s it. Now go up one more step.” He places his hand on my calf and directs it to the next rung. I feel the warmth of his body right behind me, and this gives me the confidence to continue despite my wobbly legs. Guided by his nudges, I press on until the chilly sea breeze hits my face and whips up my hair. Panic grips my heart—I can’t breathe even though I’m gulping for air.

“I can’t…I can’t…”

“Relax, I’ve got you.” Ryder wraps his body around mine and shushes rhythmically in my ear. I grip his strong arms around my front and dig my fingers into them, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Slowly my body loosens up and I start breathing again.
 

“Okay, you can open your eyes now,” he whispers.

I blink a few times to get used to the bright sunlight, and then I have an unobstructed 360-degree view of the area: the never-ending ocean in front and the verdant undulating terrain behind me, blanketed by a bright cloudless sky.
 

“Wow. It’s amazing up here.”

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorite places in the Hamptons. I really wanted you to see it. You know, we’re at the easternmost point of Long Island. And there in the distance…” He lifts his arm to point at something, but I shove it back down against my body. “…is Rhode Island.”

With his warm chest pressed to my back, I’m starting to feel a little safer. I slowly, carefully stretch out my arms, making sure Ryder doesn’t let go of me. I’m still a bit giddy, but not out of fear—I feel like I’m on top of the world. Probably similar to how Titanic’s Rose felt when she was flying in Jack’s arms; a corny thought that makes me smile anyhow.
 

I twist my upper body around and gaze into Ryder’s dark-chocolate eyes, for the first time noticing the flecks of gold playing in them.

“Thanks for taking me here. It’s awesome.”

“You’re welcome, beautiful. Come on, I’ll help you get back down.”

The way down isn’t half as bad as the way up, and when we are about to descend the winding staircase from the viewing platform, I take one last look at the spectacular ocean view. To my surprise, I am calm and steady, able to appreciate the scenery—a complete contrast to when I first got here.
 

Ryder looks at me, one brow arched in a plea to follow him—to trust him. I stretch out my hand and let it slide into his.
 

I realize that for the first time in a long, long while, I feel safe.
 

Ryder

I don’t want this day to end.

Even though I told Elle I’d drive her home after showing her this one place, I intend to hang around here to make the most of this day because I’m not ready to let her go yet. I want to drag this day out; I want to enjoy her company as much as I can.

When we step out of the lighthouse, I point to the ocean below.
 

“Let’s go down to the water. There’s something else I want you to see.”

Ignoring how she draws up her eyebrows in surprise, I drag her towards the rocky beach. God, I can’t believe I’m reduced to this pathetic mess trying to come up with excuses to stretch my time with her. I never anticipated this would happen after last night. Sure, I’ve always wanted her, right from the very first time I saw her. But I thought that after I’d sleep with her, I’d have scratched my itch and I could move on. That’s what usually happens: I lose interest right after I’ve had my release.
 

But as I realized this morning, it’s different with Elle.
 

Last night was incredible. I could never have imagined sex could ever be like this—sensual, passionate, emotional. It was more like a spiritual experience—nothing like I’ve ever felt before. So when I woke up and noticed she was gone, I almost had a panic attack. I’d slept so well last night, and without her in my arms my bed felt cold and empty. I was lucky to catch her just as she was about to leave. And now I’ll do anything just to hold on to her, the sorry bastard I am.
 

The boulders we have to cross to get to the beach are slippery, and I savor the way Elle has to cling onto me for support. I press her against me more tightly than necessary and smile when she narrows her eyes at me, knowing she sees right through my little games. As we come closer to the water’s edge, we are surrounded by the ocean’s elements: the salty air, the surf beating against the rattling pebbles, the tiny droplets spraying against our faces.
 

Elle is fascinated with the water, and I am content just to watch her as she picks up pebble after pebble and throws them in the ocean, and bends down to run the freezing water through her hands. Among the sea of gray and black stones, I notice something curious—a lone white pebble. It’s only small and light, but it’s shiny and almost spherical; much like a natural marble. I pocket it, intending to keep it as a memento of this day.
 

We walk along the water until the beach ends at an outcrop of craggy rocks, in between which snakes a paved trail. I take her hand and lead her down the trail until we reach a sandy beach, and get Elle to sit next to me on a rock near the water.
 

“See anything interesting?” I ask her, hoping she’ll spot what I’ve brought her here for.
 

She squints at me, fingering her eyebrow piercing. “Hmmm… Let’s see, there’s this obnoxious guy who keeps on putting off the drive home.”
 

An unexpected ache burns in my chest. “Okay, let’s go. I’ll drive you home now.” I stand up and turn my back to her, refusing to let her see the hurt on my face. But to my surprise, she grabs my arm and yanks me back down next to her. She leans into me, gripping my arm hard.
 

“Just kidding ya. I like it here.”

Looking down at her hands that are crushing my arm, she whispers, “And I like you.”
 

My heart jumps, and the hurt I felt inside and out immediately dissolves. I slide my finger under her chin and lift it, seeing the vulnerability in her eyes.

“Elle, to hear you say that—you have no idea how much that means to me. I care about you. And what I want more than anything, is to get to know you. To know everything about you.”

“There’s nothing to know. Seriously, I don’t understand what you see in me.”

This is the first time I’ve heard her use this soft, demure tone, and it causes my chest to flood with warmth. I reach into my pocket and take out the shiny white pebble.
 

“I found this on the beach earlier. And you know why I picked it up? It reminded me of you. You’re that one white pebble among the sea of gray and black. That’s what you are to me—a light in a world of darkness.”
 

I press the pebble in the palm of her hand and close her fingers around it.
 

“Keep this as a reminder of how special you are to me.”

Elle rests her head against my shoulder and I curve my arm around her. I meant every word I said to her, although I hadn’t planned it—I don’t think I even knew how I felt about her until it came out of my mouth.
 

A loud splash in the water makes us both look towards the ocean.

“Look over there!”

When she notices what I point at, she leaps up. “Seals!”
 

A pod of white and gray seals are frolicking in the water, and some of them hop onto a flat rock where they make themselves comfortable and soak up the sun’s rays.

Elle sits back down and sighs. “Look at them, they’re so free. They can do whatever they want, go wherever they want. Their life is so simple.”

“Life gives us choices. We can all choose to be free.”

She scowls. “That’s easy for you to say. You’ve got all the money in the world so you can choose what you want to do. Most people, including me, don’t have that luxury.”

A flare of anger rises within me—I hate people who wallow in self-pity.

“I’ve worked damn hard to get where I am. Everyone has choices. You’re in college. You have the choice to work hard, finish your degree, and pursue what you’re passionate about—or not. The only one who stops you from making those choices is you. Your life is all about the choices you make.”

Looking across the water, Elle is deep in thought. She stays quiet even when I pull her up and lead her to the inland trail. We walk a mile or so through a forested area, crossing over streams, and past a picturesque pond. A jumble of thoughts race through my mind.
 

After spending the weekend together, I feel I haven’t had enough time with her. I have to see her again, I have to touch her again—I need more of her. How can I get her to change her mind?
 

When we get back to the car, I’m frantically trying to come up with a plan. I’m in uncharted territory here, not having dated in a long time, or if I’m honest with myself, ever. Even in college I’ve always been focused on work: studying for my finance degree while trading the international stock markets, which kept me up many a night. I’ve never had the time or energy for any type of relationship. But who am I kidding? I’ve never met anyone who I’ve felt strongly enough about to go beyond a one-night stand.
 

Until now.

I’m still contemplating the best plan of action on the drive along the highway when I spot a sign for the “Clam Bar”.

I turn to Elle. “Care for some clam chowder? These guys make the best.”

“Sounds good. I’m starving.”

That’s something I really like about Elle: she never says no to good food. After we’ve turned off the road and parked the car, it’s sheer joy to witness her excitement when she reads the chalkboard easels in the patio area of the little shack.

“Look, they have lobster rolls, too. And local corn on the cob. God, it smells so good.” She grins from ear to ear, and I can’t help but chuckle. She looks so cute and adorable.
 

We sit down next to each other at one of the dozen or so outdoor tables and after ordering, we don’t have to wait long until we tuck into our bowls of New England corn chowder.

“Good, right?”

She nods. “Yeah, it’s really tasty and creamy. It’s delicious.”

I get a real kick out of watching Elle eat. She isn’t one of those women who picks at a leafy salad, concerned about her calorie intake. No, she eats with gusto, she digs in like me. I can’t wait to take her to all my favorite restaurants, watching her relish my favorite dishes, share new food experiences with her. And then I suddenly realize—food is the key.
 

But it is only after she has devoured the buttery corn and half of her lobster roll that I pluck up the courage to find out if I am right.

“Elle, there’s this fantastic Korean restaurant in the city I want you to try.”

She gazes at me, her hand holding the lobster roll suspended in mid-air. “Wait, are you asking me out on a date?”

I raise my brow. “I guess so, yeah.”

“Well, I heard you don’t date. At all.”

“Who told you that?”
 

She shrugs.
 

How the hell does she know that? Has she been checking on me? If she has, that would mean she is more interested in me than she has ever led me to believe.

“Well, it’s true, I normally don’t. I’ve never felt the need to.”
 

“Why? You’re filthy rich and not so bad looking. You could date anyone you want.”

I lean towards her. “What do you mean, ‘not so bad looking’? I’d have hoped you’d say ‘hot’ or ‘gorgeous’. I’d even settle for ‘handsome’.”

“Pffft. And here I thought you couldn’t be more obnoxious than you already are.”

“I don’t think you’d like me if I were any different.”

“True.” That one word out of her mouth makes my heart lurch.

I take her hand in mine. “So what do you say, dinner?”

“Come on, we’ve talked about this. This is the last time we’ll ever see each other, remember? You know as well as I do that we won’t last in the real world.”

“I remember what you said. But I was hoping you’d change your mind.”

Looking down, she pushes the remainder of her lobster roll around the plate. “I—I can’t. You know that. It was a condition for this race.”

“Choices, beautiful, choices. You came up with that condition yourself, so what stops you from breaking it? Sure, I know it’s not going to be easy, but don’t you think it’s better to take the risk rather than live with a ‘what if’?”

I squeeze her hand. “Just tell me one thing, do you like being with me?”

“That’s not the point. Sometimes things have no way of working out, even if you want them to.”

“How will you know if you haven’t tried? Think of it from another angle. This could turn out great. It could make you happier than you’ve ever been. Isn’t that a risk worth taking?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know. I’m just so—confused.”

“We’ll take it slow. One dinner, that’s all I’m asking.”

We lock gazes, and when I notice the minute nod of her head, I lift her hand to my lips.
 

Elle

“Did I miss anything?”

Adam, who I haven’t seen since that last disastrous meeting of The 99, slides in the seat next to me, fifteen minutes before the end of the sociology lecture. This is the first lecture I’ve attended for a good few weeks now, and I’m convinced the professor raises his eyebrows for not recognizing me as much as Adam’s late arrival. When he moves on to the next PowerPoint slide, continuing his discussion of the major sociological theorists of the 19
th
century, I whisper, “You can borrow my notes if you like. But they’re not any good, it’s damn boring.”

In fact, I haven’t been paying much attention to the lecture at all. The past few nights I haven’t been able to sleep, which is not unusual for me, but what keeps me awake is a certain dark, penetrating gaze. Daytime is not much better, with unsolicited images of Ryder popping up in my head every time I spot dark, mussed-up hair above broad shoulders, catch a whiff of a similar cologne, or hear the timbre of a deep male voice. Those fleeting moments make all my senses come alive, but when they turn out not to be him, a crushing disappointment floods through me like a starving dog missing out on a scrap of food. I hate myself—I’ve never been so weak, so powerless against my feelings.