This little rendezvous has gotten out of hand and morphed into an episode of one of those Lifetime shows. “Can’t we just go swim and be merry?” I ask from my position perched on top of Ryle’s shoulder.
“Nah, I’m out,” Zoe says as she turns on her heels and walks in the opposite direction.
“Zoe, come here. Let’s talk about this.” Kaiser chases her.
“I guess I’m out too. Maybe Paul can comfort me,” Tank winks before striding forward.
“And then there were two.” Ryle swings my body around so that he’s holding me in front of him. Slowly he lowers my body until my feet hit the ground. “Are you out too?”
“No sir, I’m ready to get wet.”
Oh my gosh. Did those words just come out of my mouth? Mortification at its best, right here.
“Way to be blunt about what you want.” His face splits into a generous grin.
“I was…I didn’t… That’s not how I meant that to come out, and you know it!”
We laugh in unison until we make our way back to his apartment a few blocks away from the ball field. “What am I going to swim in?” I ask as we walk up an array of wooden steps that lead to his apartment.
“Panties?” His laugh is deep, warm and rich. It’s genuine and causes a smile to form on my face.
“I’m not too good to swim in my bra and underwear, I just don’t want everyone getting a free glimpse of my lady parts.”
He slides his key into the door handle and twists. Looking back over his shoulder, those eyes that always seem to hypnotize me, hold me in place. “I’m the only guy who deserves the right to see you prance around in those.”
“Oh. Is that right?” I counter.
With the swift motion of his hand, he pins me against the side of his apartment. A ray of light through the open door illuminates his strong jawline. My back slides against the brick wall and he leans forward, rubbing his nose gently over my cheek, stopping when his mouth is directly above my ear. Something intense passes between us in the seconds before he spreads his luscious lips and says, “Tell me I’m not right.”
Words fail me.
He takes my hand and pulls me roughly toward him. Our chests collide forcefully as he sweeps me into his arms. Our limbs become frantic as they search for a way to bring us closer. I swear I’m on the verge of exploding with pent-up need. I can’t even think about anything other than him. This moment. I beg silently that this is it. That he’ll lose the last bit of restraint and let himself get lost in a world where only he and I and his bed exists. Hell, I’ll even take the couch or the floor at this point.
“Fuck, Adaley.” He bites my lower lip. My core rubs against him as he carries me into his bedroom. Tossing me onto his bed, he leaps onto the mattress after me. As his weight dips down, my breath ceases. “I’m so fucking turned on by you. Every second of the damn day. When you eat, I imagine you licking my cock. When you smile, I imagine your mouth wrapped around me.”
“Take me then. Show me that your words aren’t just talk. Let yourself get lost. Please. I want this.”
His body visibly recoils.
“What’s wrong?” I ask as he draws back from me. “Did I miss something? I thought that this is what you wanted, too.”
Rejection is an ugly bitch and yet, I feel like she’s my best friend since she is always around.
“I just want…” he moves to the edge of the bed and places his hands on his face, covering it. “I don’t want this to just be about sex for once.”
For once.
A smidge, okay I lie—a tidal wave—of jealously pulls me under. Without looking at me, he somehow senses my mental retreat. I close my eyes for a second and try to catch my breath as I feel his weight shift on the bed. When I open my eyes, Ryle is sitting on his knees in front of me.
“Adaley,” his voice breaks the silence. There is a certain huskiness to it that lures me in, taunts me, and then always seems to push me away. “What I meant was, I truly like you. I like what we have. I like who I am when you’re around. I want to make love to you, trust me I do. But I don’t want it to end there, and that’s all I’m used to. I’m accustomed to always being left.”
“I find it hard to believe that all of your little conquests wouldn’t love to stay in bed with you and lay wrapped in your arms.”
“They probably would, but in my eyes everyone leaves, and as much as I pushed them all away and told them I wasn’t a relationship type, I secretly wanted them—just one of them—to fight for me for a change. You know, that none of them did. They all just fucking left.”
I rub a hand over my face and try to make sense of what he’s saying. “They left like you asked them to, and now you’re mad because they didn’t fight you on that?”
“Yeah,” is all that he says.
I urge him for more, unsure that he’ll truly open up. “Please explain this to me. I want to understand. I want to fight for you, so don’t try to push me away anymore.”
“I’m fucked up. I’m…not worth it. I think you should leave.”
My night goes from bad to worse as he stands up and walks into his dimly lit en-suite bathroom. The sound of the door locking behind him is like being punched in the gut. What do I do now? I slide my phone out of my pocket and turn it on silent, reaching out to the only other person on this campus who seems to be in a situation as screwed up as mine.
Me: I just got shut down again.
The Kitten Master: Me too. Paul got wind of Jane. Now all I have is my right hand.
Me: Eww on the visual.
The Kitten Master: ;) Anyway what’s your dilemma with Benson?
Me: He makes no sense sometimes. He’s hot, he’s cold. He wants me, he doesn’t.
The Kitten Master: I think that he wants you to fight for him.
Me: That’s practically what he just said…
The Kitten Master: The little that I know is that he had a f’d up childhood. No one ever gave a rat’s ass and stood in his corner. If you want to break down his walls you either have to climb over them or knock those fuckers down with one hell of a bulldozer.
Me: I don’t think I’m strong enough for either. I’m tired of… the chase.
The Kitten Master: Now that’s a first! All jokes aside, if you want the trophy sometimes the game has to get ugly.
Tank’s words don’t make me feel nearly as good as I had hoped. But, he is right on one thing. If Ryle is my trophy, I want it more than I wanted that gold medal.
R
yle is still barricaded in the bathroom. I don’t know if I should karate chop the door down like I see cops doing on TV, or if I should just continue to sit here on his bed like I’ve been doing for the last twenty minutes. That’s one thousand and twenty seconds. I know, because I’ve been bored out of my mind and looked it up on Bing.
How truly pathetic I’ve become.
I stand up and slowly make my way toward the bathroom door. His carpet feels soft against the pads of my feet as I inch forward little by little, careful not to make any noise. I lean my ear against the door and listen, but there’s nothing to hear. Did he fall asleep in there?
“Ryle,” I murmur loud enough for him to hear me.
No response.
“Please talk to me. I’m still here. I’m willing to fight, but you’ve got to let me.” I sink to the floor and lean back against the wooden door. I’m at a loss. I’ve never been in this predicament, and I don’t know how to handle it. “I’m not leaving. I’ll sit out here all night if I have to.”
As Ryle sits on the square-tiled floor picking at the calluses on his palms, he thinks about what a royal fuck up he is. What kind of man turns down pussy? What kind of man pushes a beautiful female away who has made it clear that she has
real
feelings for him? What kind of man gets the girl and then intentionally tries to fuck it up? And what kind of girl holds on to a screwed up man in the hopes he will one day redeem himself?
He’d tried as hard as he could to keep Adaley at bay. He pushed and pushed, fighting his feelings, but lo and behold, she pushed right back. He never expected it to go to this level but now that it has, he’s scared as hell. They’re past the point of admitting feelings. They already crossed that obstacle with flying colors, so why in the hell is he turning into a pussy now?
“Adaley?” he says, questioning if she’s still there.
“Yeah. I’m here.”
“Why do you like me so much?” he asks smoothly, with no emotion in his voice. His question may sound immature, but to Ryle, something so simple means the world. In his mind, he knows he’s unworthy. He needs to understand why his worth is painted differently in her world.
“Do you want the long list or the short one?” Her smile is felt through the door. Ryle swallows, unable to speak. “Okay well here goes the medium list. I like that you’re not a kiss-and-tell guy. A lot of people brag to their buddies and stuff, and it’s really disturbing to me. I know that whatever happens between us, stays between us. I like that you’re so caring. You may not act like you are at times, but you’re practically a saint. I mean, you donated your own money so the college could vamp up the campus gym. When you’re not playing ball, you spend your free time at the center mentoring those kids. You truly have a heart of gold, and you don’t even know it. Usually, I like who I am when you’re around. I’m not the frightened little girl I was back home. I’m strong... I’m happy… And most of all, I like that thing you do when you tug on my lower lip with your teeth.”
A small ripple of laughter seeps from Ryle’s parted lips. His cock also stirs back to life at the mention of her lips.
“Now tell me why you like me?” Adaley’s soft, delicate demand filters through the door.
Awkwardly, he clears his throat. “I don’t think I have to tell you that you’re beautiful, but you are—inside and out. You’re the most breathtaking woman I’ve ever seen. You’re passionate about gymnastics, regardless if it’s something you’ll ever be able to fully compete in again. It’s still there—your love for it never deteriorated, and that gives me hope that you won’t give up on me. I know I keep pushing you away. I swear to God that I don’t want to, but I can’t fight the urge and I end up doing it anyway. I used to do it to my mom too. I’d say awful things to her, and at first—before she started using—things were good. She’d be there, regardless of the negativity I threw at her like flames. Then one day I pushed, and she actually left. What’s worse, is that she kept leaving. Kept getting high. Kept dating assholes that liked to lay their hands on me. So in my eyes, everyone leaves. It’s fucked up. My parents…the Bensons tried to put me in therapy when I was first adopted. Obviously, it didn’t work. But anyway,” he rambles. “I like that you knew you needed a change in your life, so you made it happen by moving here. I like that you actually enjoy working out and taking care of your body. I like how smart-mouthed you were when I used to give you hell. You gave it right back and didn’t back down. It was hot, but most of all, I like how you softly moan when we kiss. It makes my cock rock hard.”
“Can you please open the door?” she asks.
Even not knowing if he’s ready to face her, he stands up and rotates the knob. As soon as the door swings open, Ryle’s stoic nature fades away as his eyes meet hers.