The Rush (38 page)

             
“Alright, then. Ivy, thank you for your time. I’ll be in touch,” she stood then and stretched out her hand. I echoed every movement and then bit back a smile at her firm handshake.

             
She was just so…. professional.

             
“Thank you, Mallory,” I gushed not meaning to. I actually meant to return the professional air of civility, but suddenly I found myself near tears. Partly because Smith had disregarded everything I said. But mostly because there was hope that I hadn’t felt in a really long time. Hope I hadn’t felt in maybe ever.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

              Three pounds my ass. Literally…. maybe that’s where the three pounds were hiding. But I honestly gave losing them a legitimate run for two full days. And nothing happened. Not even a half of pound. Not even after I peed first thing in the morning.

             
Now that it was Saturday and I was practically faint from hunger I decided to screw it. Ok, so two days didn’t exactly equal the strongest effort ever, but chocolate croissants were calling to me from across the street. Fresh, warm, gooey ones. With a caramel macchiato to drink.

             
I could always start again tomorrow. Right? Right.

             
I rushed through a shower, only shaving my calves and ankles, leaving my thighs for a different day. Small rebellion, but well worth it. I blow dried my hair, hot rolled, then brushed it out to erase all previous efforts and painted my face with the usual regimen of makeup. My mom wasn’t going to wake up this morning and do a leg check on my dedication to shaving, but she for sure would check out my face in one second flat if I didn’t take cautious care. And if I intended to sneak out for chocolate croissants I needed to be extra careful.

             
After the beauty routine, I dressed in a pair of turquoise skinny jeans, white scooped neck tank top and a sheer oversized white cardigan. I slipped into some red wedges and threw on the required amount of jewelry to complete the overdressed outfit. But bases covered and I was ready to go.

             
As long as I didn’t spill chocolate on my shirt, I would probably get away with this too.

             
Mom hadn’t talked to me since she shut me up by slapping me across the face. So…. I had that going for me.

             
I slipped out of the apartment and across Farnam without incident.  Once I gained some distance from my happy home, I found myself breathing easier, taking in the crisp coolness of the late October morning, and even smiling a little.

             
This morning felt like a reprieve from everything, from my mom, from Nix, from school, from…. me. That same everything felt easy. And for a moment I forgot about it all and just looked forward to breakfast.

             
Until, I opened the door and saw him waiting for me next to the counter.

             
Ryder.

             
And then nothing felt easy.

             
Not even breathing.

             
He stood with his hip leaning against the counter, in casual conversation with another one of the college girls that worked here. He turned back to smile at me, as if expecting me any moment and then winked. He was dressed in the nicest jeans I had seen him wear, boot cut and dark washed and his black button up shirt was rolled to the elbows. His hair was in all its voluminous, coarse, in-desperate-need-of-industrial-strength-conditioner glory.

             
The butterfly in my stomach must have mated sometime during the last thirty seconds because suddenly there was a storm of them viciously attacking my insides. Nervous energy rushed through my body, completely disorienting me. My brain went all fuzzy, like everything intelligent and coherent was suddenly abducted by aliens. My fingers actually started to tremble, like I had a crack addiction and I was jonesing for a hit and my lips adapted a will of their own and curved into a smile without my permission. Actually, completely against my direct orders!

             
I was a mess. And a puddle of goo. And a nervous wreck all at the same time!

             
Was this honestly what it was like to have a crush on a boy?

             
Because if so I hated being a girl.

             
And loved it at the same time.

             
Good grief, this was confusing. Now to round this multi-personality-riddled problem out, I just needed to act cool and not trip face-first over my feet.

             
No problem.

             
“Morning, Red,” he greeted with a deep, rough voice that hadn’t recovered from sleep yet.

             
“Good morning,” I replied politely, faltering a little on my way to the cash register.

             
“I was hoping to catch you here,” he admitted, and his mouth curved up into a reserved smile.

             
“Yeah?”

             
“Yeah,” he echoed and then turned to his friend working. “She’ll have a caramel macchiato, extra hot. And I’m ready for my order too now. Thanks Gwen.”

             
I finally made it to the counter and contemplated forgetting the croissants altogether with how sweet Ryder was being, but then my stomach growled loudly and I knew I needed to eat something.

             
“Hungry?” he turned to face me, and crossed his arms against his chest. The movement pulled his shirt tight at his biceps and shoulders and I had the strongest urge to run my fingers against the creases in the fabric and smooth them out.

             
“Mmm-hmmm. I could eat like five croissants this morning.”

             
“Good to know,” Ryder’s face broke out into a bigger grin, his gray eyes sparkling until they turned into shiny silver. “But I have a better idea.”

             
“Than chocolate croissants? You can see why I would have my doubts,” I took another step forward so I could press my hands against the cool glass of the counter and lean forward. I looked back at Ryder over my shoulder, noting how close we were. I was having fun flirting with him, I could admit that. But I also had to admit I needed to stop myself soon. It wouldn’t do any good for him to actually start returning these feelings.

             
“Come have breakfast at my house,” his voice dropped to a rumbling timber.

             
For a few moments I was stunned into silence, only the sound of the espresso machine whirring in the background, the soft tickling of ceramic dishes being used and melodic hum of conversational voices interrupted the shock that froze all of my thoughts.

             
“I can’t,” I mumbled finally. I dropped my gaze to the counter, to my hands, to the cash register, to
anywhere
but Ryder’s face.

             
“Yes, you can,” he pleaded gently. Always gently with me. Always careful.

             
I shook my head quickly. “No, thanks, it’s sweet of you to offer.”

             
“It’s not sweet of me to offer,” Ryder laughed harshly. “It’s against my better judgment to offer. But come anyway.”

             
“Well, now you’ve convinced me,” I groaned. A moment ago my thoughts were all vibrating and fuzzy with confusion, but leave it up to Ryder to bring me right back to reality.

             
“Here you go,” Gwen interrupted Ryder’s ready response. She handed Ryder a drink carrier full of four large coffee cups. The scent of fresh, hot caffeine permeated the air around me and I instantly took a step forward to inhale a good whiff.

             
Ryder passed a twenty and a five across the counter and winked at Gwen.

             
“This is way too much,” she smiled at him.

             
I forced my expression to remain the same and hide the jealous monster that lurked just beneath my calm surface.

             
“I know,” he shrugged. “Think of it like a bribe. I’m holding her,” he gestured to me with his elbow, “coffee hostage. If she decides not to come with me, do not serve her under
any
circumstances. We clear?”

             
“Sure,” Gwen laughed. “We’re clear.”

             
My mouth dropped open in surprise and I shot Gwen an imploring look. She looked me over, not in a very kind way and her expression became steel.

             
“Are you serious?” I gasped more to Ryder than to Gwen, but she shrugged her shoulder as if there was nothing she could do. “Ryder, make her serve me coffee.” I whispered harshly when he started to walk away and Gwen disappeared through the door that led to the kitchen. “Ryder!”

             
“Not a chance, Red. If you want this delicious, amazing-smelling macchiato, you better move your ass.” He didn’t slow down and soon he was out the door while I stayed staring after him.

             
I decided he was right, so I hurried after him and my kidnapped coffee. “You know, I could always just go to Starbucks if I get desperate.”

             
Empty threat.

             
“Yep, you could,” he admitted, but didn’t look back at me.

             
I let out a long suffering sigh, but in the end I let myself in the passenger side of his Bronco parked on the street. He handed me the carton of coffees, shot me a huge grin and then started the car.

             
I held the coffee in my lap with both hands and tried not to move one way or the other when his arm rested on the back of my seat, just above my shoulder blades while he backed out. There was warmth in that movement that I was almost desperate to lean into and at the same time the clawing need had me eyeing the door handle and contemplating my chances of diving out of the car before he could put it in drive.

             
In the end I just remained still- absolutely still.

             
When the Bronco faced east on Farnam he removed his hand from across the seat to deal with the gearshift and I released the breath that had been bottled up inside me.

             
We were quiet on the way to Ryder’s house. Just the sounds of the radio, top forty surprisingly, and Ryder’s soft humming filled the car. I glanced over at him several times but his eyes were focused on the road and his jaw didn’t give anything away, except maybe he felt more relaxed than I did.

             
Ryder parked parallel from his building and then shut the car off. He stayed still for a few moments while the engine wound down and I didn’t dare move from the car before he did.

             
“Hungry?” he finally asked, tilting his cocky grin to face me.

             
“Do I have a choice?” I grunted, working up my best martyred victim expression.

             
“It’s going to be good, I promise. But before we go in, I wanted to warn you that my uncle and dad will be there,” his grin faltered, leaving behind some nervous embarrassment I didn’t quite understand.

             
“You kidnapped me to meet your family?” I bit out, suddenly furious. “Ryder, what the hell is Kenna going to say? What is your
dad
going to say? This is so weird. You should have asked me first.”

             
I counted the four coffees before we left the café, but so part of me held out hope they were just extras. And I had so blindsided by his desire to take me with him that I hadn’t really thought through what breakfast with his family meant.

             
“Probably I should have asked you first,” he shrugged off whatever embarrassment was there before and replaced his expression with a determination that sucked the breath from my lungs, “but you wouldn’t have come. And Kenna won’t care that you came for breakfast. Promise. We’re friends Ivy. Stop reading into everything I do. I just want to be your friend.”

             
I thought over everything he said and convinced myself he was right. Friends. We were friends. But then a thought flashed through my resolve and I blurted out, “Your dad and your uncle! I mean, I have this effect on…. uh, parents. Parents
really
love me. It’s just this talent I’ve always had. Actually with all adults. So um, if your dad seems to really like me, then you should know it’s just my natural charm.”

             
I wanted to smack my hand against my forehead and groan, but I smiled instead.

             
“Natural charm?” Ryder laughed. “Yeah, you’re really oozing with it.” He rolled his eyes but then shot me an encouraging smile. “There’s no need to be nervous, Ivy. My dad likes everybody.”