Only With You (3 page)

I rolled over o
nto my side so I was facing him. “If you need a break, you’re welcome to come on tour with me while you’re on summer break. It might be nice to have a friend around.”

It was ironic that I was saying that since when I was on tour, I was never really alone. There were tons of people a
round – my manager, my publicity team, my hair and make-up people, my stylist, the band I’d played with for four years, plus all the back-up dancers and the gigantic supporting crew that did all the other things that were so vital to making a tour successful. I had a lot of friends in that group, but I never really felt like I had anyone I could really talk to – at least no one like Ryder.

I was guarded by nature, only letting certain people in, and it took a lot for me to open up. I’d been burned by people early on in my career, so now I kept
a lot of people at arm’s length until I could get to know and trust them. Except Whit. I’d trusted him from the start and let him in, and that had been a huge mistake. I wasn’t going to do that again. I figured it would be a long time before I let myself fall for another guy.

“
Yeah right. I’ll come on tour with you. Sure,” Ryder joked.

“I’m not kidding, Ry. It would be so much fun to have you there,”
I said, the idea suddenly sounding like the best one I’d ever had.

He’d visited me for a week the summer before while I’d been touring, and we’d had a blast. Just the prospect of having him there for the whole summer sounded incredible. 

“As amazing as that sounds, I can’t. I’m taking classes this summer,” he said, bursting my bubble and making my face settle into a pout. “But I will come see your shows in Orlando, Tampa and Jacksonville. You promised me tickets to those, remember?”

All three ci
ties were in driving distance from his school, so he’d be able to come to them. As soon as we’d finalized the tour dates, and I knew when I’d be near him, I’d called and told him to mark his calendar.

“I’ll do better than that. You can just be backstage the whole time. That way we can hang out before and after the show.”

“Done. I’m in. For three nights in late April, you’ll have your number one fan cheering you on.”

I reached out and ran my
free hand back through his shaggy brown locks. His hair had gotten longer since I’d last seen him, and I liked it. Ryder closed his eyes, as I raked my nails against his scalp like I used to do all the time. We’d always been playful and touchy-feely with each other while we’d been growing up. I’d even slept in the same bed as him countless times – until we hit puberty and our parents put the kibosh on that option – but even still we were always cuddled up when we were around each other.

It was how I’d known early on that Ryder was gay. He never once made a move on me, and he’d had ample opportunities.
Of course, I’d never liked him as more than a friend, so I hadn’t wanted him to make a move, but I was thankful his sexuality allowed us to be cuddly without things getting awkward

A
t first I just figured maybe he didn’t like me in that way, but when he never dated any other girls, I just knew. We’d been so young that he’d never come out and said he was gay, but it had just become this unspoken thing between us that we both accepted.

I wished he’d find someone, but each time we talked, he never brought up anyone he was seeing.
He was so awesome and cute though that I wondered how long he’d continue to stay single. There had to be some guy at the University of Florida who was just waiting to scoop him right up.

“Will you stay the night,” Ryder asked then, and I nodded.

I had a hotel room that I’d stayed in for the past week, but I really wasn’t in a state to drive anywhere, and a part of me really wanted to snuggle up next to my best friend and fall asleep breathing in his familiar scent. It had been a long time since I’d felt truly at home with another person, and for me, Ryder was home. I just had to put my sudden inappropriate feelings aside for the night. They’d probably be gone by morning anyway. It was probably just the tequila.

“Sure, I’ll stay,
” I said, smiling at him.

Ryder smiled widely
in return. “Cool.”

He sat up then and went over to hi
s dresser. He rifled through his drawers for a few seconds before tossing me a t-shirt and boxers to sleep in. I begrudgingly got up from my spot on the floor, only because I was tired, and moving to the bed sounded more comfortable. I ducked into his bathroom, changed and came back out to find him in bed, the only light in the room coming from his bedside table. He pated the empty space next to him, and I slid under the covers, right up against him. Then he reached up and turned off the light.

“If my friends could see me now,” he joked, and I elbowed him lightly in the ribs before turning to face him.

I knew I didn’t have to worry about Ryder telling anyone that I’d stayed at his house. He hated the gossip about me more than I did. Of course, he read almost everything that anyone ever wrote, which was probably not healthy. Sometimes he told me about what he read and sometimes he didn’t, because he knew it would hurt my feelings. I’d long ago stopped reading gossip, but sometimes I couldn’t help but see it on the cover of magazines when I walked through the airport or signed onto the Internet.

“Hey you,” I said softly, my head still buzzing a little from the
tequila. I could just make out his features in the soft moonlight streaming through the window behind his head.

“
Hi,” he said sweetly, and I just wanted to scoop him up in my arms and hold him for hours. I needed that closeness that only he could give me, that I hadn’t had in so long.

But i
t was then that things started to spin a little out of control, and I wasn’t sure what was happening. Then Ryder was closing the distance between us, and not in friendly way. He was pressing his lips to mine and wrapping his arm around my waist to pull me closer. I was so caught off-guard that I didn’t have time to process what was happening, but I was fully aware of the fact that I’d never had a kiss like that before.

Then suddenly, his tongue was pressing against my lower lip, seeking entrance into my mouth, and I opened to let him in not even pausing to think about what that meant. Our tongues met, and fireworks shot off, igniting a spark that I hadn’t even known was there.

Holy shit
, he was a good kisser.

Strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush against his body, and our legs tangled together. My hands instantly went up into his hair, as if they had a mind of their own
, gabbing for some piece of him, doing what I could to pull him as close as I could get him and just keep him there.

It was almost like I wasn’t actually conscious of my participation. I was there, I was going through the motions and feeling everything, but it was as if I was floating above my body, scratching my head going, ‘What the heck is happening here? I like it, and I don’t want it to stop, but just what the heck?!’

Ryder closed out the kiss before I could react further, and I let my hands fall from his hair. He pulled back to look at me shyly, and then his smile faded.

“Sorry,” he said
quickly when his eyes met mine, and he looked like he might be sick.

Why did he look sick? Had he hated kissing me that much?

“I just – I kind of always wanted t
o know what that would be like,” he mumbled.

I nodded, understanding dawning on me. I didn’t think he’d ever kissed a girl before, and he felt safe with me. He wanted to know what it was like. And judging by
the look on his face, I didn’t think he’d liked it at all. Which was too bad, because I’d freaking loved it. I’d waited my whole life for a kiss like that. I’d written songs about kisses that swept you off your feet, but I’d never truly experienced one for myself until that moment.

Ryder was turning away from me then.
“Ry?” I questioned, reaching out to place my hand on his shoulder. He flinched. “What’s wrong?”

I knew it was weird for him, but he shouldn’t be embarrassed. I wasn’t upset.
I’d rather he experiment with me, with someone he felt comfortable with, than some random girl who wouldn’t understand what he was doing.

He froze under my touch. “Nothing. I’m just tired. Let’s go to sleep.”

I didn’t like the cool tone of his voice, and I suddenly wondered if he was mad at me. Had I taken things too far when I’d responded to his kiss? Had I been too aggressive, scared him?

“Okay,” I said softly, wishing I could do something to make him feel better. He didn’t need to feel bad about kissing me, b
ut I knew he did. “Goodnight.”

“Night Syd.”

Chapter Two

Ryder

I was an idiot. I’d kissed her. I’d kissed my best friend. I’d kissed Sydney, the girl I’d been painfully in love with for years. I’d kissed her, and although she’d sort of reacted in the moment and kissed me back, it was the look on her face when I pulled away that told me exactly how she was feeling. She hadn’t wanted me to kiss her.

I should have known I wasn’t good enough for her. She dated rock stars and actors. She was gorgeous and talented. What w
ould she ever want with a nerdy guy like me? She was so far out of my league we weren’t even in the same stratosphere.

I wasn’t sure why I’d kissed her. It hadn’t been in my plans when I’d invited her over for dinner. I figured we’d hang out, spend time together like we used to. I never planned to act on the crush that had been eating away at me for so many years I couldn’t count
then. But then, as her face was bathed in moonlight, and she looked so freaking beautiful wearing one of my fraternity t-shirts, I just thought, why not? And I took the chance I’d never let myself take before. And it backfired. And I was now the dumbass who’d kissed his best friend and made things awkward.

It was all I could do
to not start crying like a little girl on the spot, because a part of me – some part deep down that I’d always thought was nuts – actually thought I might have a chance, one day, to be with her. Especially when she’d started kissing me back, but apparently it wasn’t what she wanted.

So I’d turned away, told her goodnight, when what
I really wanted to tell her were all the things I’d do for her if we were together. I wouldn’t treat her like those jerks she always dated. I’d love her and take care of her. I wanted to make her happy, because as much as I knew her music did that to a point, I also knew it wasn’t enough. She was on the verge of falling apart. I wanted to be the guy to pick her up, show her she was worthy, that she was incredible, but it just wasn’t going to happen.

I’d never wanted to be so close and so far from someone in my life. She was right behind me. I could hear her breathing, and it was killing me. As much as I wanted to turn around and look at her, watch her angelic face as she slept, I coul
dn’t torture myself like that. I loved this girl, and she loved me back, that much I knew, but she’d never love me as more than a friend. She’d never love me like I loved her.

But damn, that kiss had been incredible. I’d kiss
ed a decent amount of girls in the past few years, but none of those experiences had been like kissing Syd. Maybe it’s because I’d been waiting to do that for close to seven years, or maybe it was because it was just Sydney, and I was so in love with her I couldn’t see straight.

When I knew she was finally asleep, I let a few tears leak out, knowing that it was the only time I’d let myself
cry over her, and then I’d finally shut the door on this obsession I’d had for far too long. It was time to move on. I just needed to let her go already.

The morning was awkward. I made pancakes, because it was what Sydney expected me to do. I’d made them for her countless
times when we were kids, but she barely picked at them that morning. When I asked if they tasted okay, she smiled and told me they were great, but it was a sad smile. It made me wonder if she was thinking the same thing I was, that last night had changed things, and we could never change them back.

I hated myself in that moment, and a part of me kind of hated her
too.

When she left, I hugged her goodbye knowing it very well might be the last time I ever saw her. I mean, who wanted to be friends with someone who had feelings for you that you couldn’t reciprocate? Especially with as fast as her world moved, I knew it would be easy for her to step b
ack and let our friendship fade. It made me sad to think about that, but at the same time I thought maybe it was for the best. Maybe if I didn’t talk to her, I’d be able to finally get over her.

Fortunately, she didn’t call me, so we didn’t have to have
any awkward, ‘We kissed, but now I still feel obligated to be your friend’ conversation, that I’d been hoping to avoid. I knew I wouldn’t call her. I just couldn’t.

Of course
I didn’t factor in that talking to her wasn’t going to be the only issue in getting over my crush. When the girl you love is a super-famous pop star at the peak of her career and is kicking ass and taking names, well, you tend to see things about her from time to time. When I surfed the web there were articles about her, when I went grocery shopping she was on the cover of magazines, and hell even when I turned on the TV she was there – all the freaking time it seemed.

Social media was the worst.
I even blocked her on Facebook, but somehow things about her still got through to me from people I was friends with. Sydney hadn’t stayed friends with anyone else we’d gone to high school with, but since she’d become mega-famous, people who knew we were still close liked to share gossip with me when they saw it. Twitter and Instagram were worse because I couldn’t stop following her without her knowing, so for a while, I’d just stopped using social media altogether.

By February I saw that she had a new boyfriend. Some pretty boy singer from one of those boy bands that were so manufactured and fake.
He was preppy but tattooed at the same time, just the kind of guy I knew Sydney liked – a good mix of light and dark. I could never be that guy, and I’d always known that. It pissed me off that she was with him, but she looked happy in pictures, so I hoped he was at least treating her right. In the end, I did want her to be happy. I just wanted her to be happy with me.

I told myself I wasn’t going to watch The Grammys since I knew she was opening the show, and I also knew she’d be going with her new boyfriend, holding his hand on the red carpet, sitting next to him in the audience, and since she was nominated
for like six awards, they’d probably show her on-screen a bunch of times. Then I caved at the last minute and totally planned to watch the whole damn, painful show.

Jake, m
y roommate at the frat house, walked into our room and stopped short when he saw what was on the TV. I was sitting in a beanbag chair on top of the carpeted platform we’d build that covered our sleeping caves, as I liked to call them, drinking a soda and munching on popcorn. Some country singer was being interviewed on the red carpet, and the actual show was starting in about a minute.

“What the fuck are you watching?”
Jake asked.

“The Grammys,” I said morosely.
“This is the red carpet portion.”

Yup, I’d chicke
d all out and watched Sydney walk the red carpet, looking gorgeous in a long pink gown, her brown hair that I used to love to run my fingers through for hours sweeping behind her. She was so freaking beautiful it literally felt like my heart was being squeezed in a vice.

“Dud
e, don’t do this to yourself,” Jake said, climbing up on the platform to sit behind me on the couch.

“Why?” I asked, as I shoved a handful of popcorn in my mouth.
The show was starting, and in a few seconds I’d see Sydney again. I was practically holding my breath.

“Because she shot you down. It can’t be healthy to watch this shit, and oh, right, there she is.
Bring on the pain.”

“Shh,” I said, leaning forward
as Syd pranced out on stage wearing a hot little outfit that showed off her long legs.

She was tall and had the longest legs. I used to imagine them wrapped around me, her heels digging into my ass cheeks. It was one of my favorite fantasies that would never come true.

“You’re such a fucking pussy,” Jake muttered, but I ignored him, my eyes glued to the TV as Sydney sang and danced and smiled, driving me absolutely nuts.

But w
hen the number was finished, I smiled. She’d done awesome like I knew she would, dancing around on stage, singing, playing her guitar and captivating the audience with the title track off of her album,
Bulletproof
. Even those who weren’t fans of her music had to at least say she was a great entertainer. She put on a hell of a show.

My hand inadvertently reached for my phone so I could text her and tell her how awesome she’d done like I always did after one of her performances, but I froze in mid-reach and pulled my hand back. I couldn’t do that. We weren’t friends anymore. We hadn’t talked in six weeks.

I brought my hand back and raked it through my hair.

“Just text her,” Jake said.

Jake was the only person who knew the real story with Sydney and me. Most of my other frat brothers honestly thought I just had some unattainable crush on her, but Jake and I had been roommates freshman year, we’d rushed together, and we’d moved into the house together at the start of our sophomore year. He’d heard me on the phone with Syd more times than I could count in the past two years, but he also knew how I felt about her and how I’d been unceremoniously shot down on New Year’s Eve.

Thankfully he exercised discretion with everyone but me. I didn’t care if he called me a pussy or a douchebag ten times a day as long as he didn’t publicize what I’d shared
with him. It was private, but I’d needed to talk to someone, and he was the best friend I had.

“No. I can’t,” I said, standing my ground.

I saw Jake’s reflection in the Budweiser mirror that was mounted on the wall across from the couch. He was rolling his eyes at me, so I threw popcorn over my shoulder at him. He picked a few pieces up and chucked them at the back of my head.

“Oh, and there she is
again,” he said then. “Let the torture continue. Dude, you need to just get over her already.”

I would if I could.

I sighed as the show came back from a commercial break, and the cameras started to pan the audience. Sydney was there, back in the pink dress, her hair now in some fancy updo thingy, and the pretty boy singer guy was sitting next to her holding her hand. I glared at him. I hated him. I didn’t understand what she saw in him, why he was any better than me. Sure, he could sing and dance and was good-looking, but he didn’t know her like I did.

Did he make her la
ugh? Did he know that when she was nervous, she munched on Twizzlers like it was her job? Did he know that in the tenth grade, after she was set to go on stage to perform at our school’s talent show that she ate so many Twizzlers before her performance that she actually threw up in a trash can backstage? No, probably not. Only I knew that stuff about her. But she’d chosen him so easily.

“If it’s any consolation, I think her boyfriend is gay,” Jake said then,
around a mouthful of popcorn he’d stolen.

I laughed
as the host started to introduce the first category of awards. It felt good to laugh since I’d been so tense for the past hour.

“Yo
u’re probably right,” I said, but I didn’t mean it.

I didn’t actually think Syd’s
boyfriend was gay, but it was easier to say out loud than to admit how gut-wrenching it was to see her with him. I’d lived through seeing her with too many guys and getting upset each time because they were all so wrong for her and they treated her like shit. And I was pretty sure this one was barely eighteen, but at least he wasn’t in his thirties.

Why couldn’t she just pick someone hot and funny and cool, like say, me? Yeah right. I knew that ship had sailed. Or
rather I’d fallen off of that ship and into the ocean only to be left behind drifting aimlessly, waving my arms frantically, hoping someone might see me, until I either got so tired that I sunk to the bottom of the ocean and drowned or a giant great white shark came and ate me. Awesome.

“I
thought you wanted to get over her?” Jake asked.

“I do. That’s the plan.”

And it was so obviously not a plan that was working.

Jake rolled his eyes again
, because he knew I still had it so bad for Sydney Chase.

“I have a better plan,” he said. “
Trey and Alec have some of the Zetas out on the back deck. They’re playing beer pong, and there are Jell-O shots that one of the girls made. It’ll be much more fun than pining away after some chick that’s so far out of your league she’s in outer space.”

I turned around and glared at him even though I knew he was right.

“Fine,” I said, as I grabbed the remote and switched off the TV right as the camera panned to the audience and showed Sydney laughing at a joke the host had made that I hadn’t heard. She was falling into her boy band jerk, and he was laughing too. Tool.

At that, I decided I’d had
enough pain for one night and followed Jake outside. Maybe one of the Zetas could take my mind off of Syd for a least a while.