Love Struck (11 page)

16

Ryker

I try not to let it bother me that Lola never returned the text I sent her on Christmas Eve. When I sent the text I didn’t really expect her to admit that she missed me, but I did expect her to say something.
Anything
.

Even though she finally did text me on Christmas Day, it wasn’t until late in the evening and all it said was “Merry Christmas”.
Merry Christmas? Really? That’s it?
Merry Christmas is what you send to your acquaintances, people you can easily discard. It’s not the thing you send to your boyfriend. It’s not what you text to the guy who loves you so much it hurts. Yes, I love Lola. I’ve known it for awhile. However, I haven’t told her yet. I don’t want to scare her away. But more than that, I don’t want to be hurt if she can’t say it back.

When I got Lola’s Merry Christmas text I didn’t even respond. I couldn’t. I was too angry. So I shoved my phone back in my pocket and pretended that she never texted at all. It was the last text she sent me.

Until today. This morning I woke up to this:
I’m back.

I lie in bed staring it, wondering what I’m supposed to make of it. Does this mean she wants to see me? Or is she just informing me of her whereabouts?

Ok.
It’s the only thing I can force my fingers to type. I want to text her back and ask what the hell her problem is. I want to ask her how she could go an entire week without talking to me; without having a conversation. I know that Beckett and Star spoke. Apparently she doesn’t forget about him when she goes back home, and they’ve been dating less time than Lola and I. A red flag pops up in my mind, and I wonder again if I’m fooling myself when it comes to this girl. Do I just want her so badly that it’s clouding my judgment?

The cell buzzes in my palm, skittering across my hand like an insect.
Open your door.

I should be excited that she’s here
, but instead I feel annoyed. Throwing off my covers, I fling my legs off the bed. Without bothering to get dressed, I head out into the hallway in my boxers. Pierce had an early shift at the coffee shop so he’s already left for work. After running a hand through my messy hair, I toss open the door.

Lola’s gaze lands on my bare chest and her mouth drops open. “Merry Christmas to me,” she says, her
voice throaty and seductive.

Despite how angry I am, it still turns me on. She looks gorgeous in tight jeans and boots, her black hair sleek against her pale face
. Her heart shaped lips are painted their usual bright red. However, I stay rooted in place. I make no move toward her. It’s her turn to come to me.

“Hi, Lola,” I finally say, my voice tight.

Her eyebrows knit together in a confused look. “Well, that’s an interesting way to greet me. What happened to the guy I’m dating? Can you find him?” She winks.

I lean against the doorframe. “Oh? Do you
miss
him, Lola?”

She steps back as if reeling from my words. Clearly she’s caught their double meaning. “Look, I’m sorry. When you texted I was just really busy.
But I texted you on Christmas.”

I shake my head and step away from the door. If she chooses to follow that’s her deal. I’m not inviting her in. Let her come to me just this one time. Let her make the first move. I’m tired of it. Sinking down on the couch, I rest my head in my hands and groan in frustration.

The couch cushions slope from her weight when she joins me. Her sweet coconut scent winds around me. When her hand lights on my shoulder I flinch, and she pulls back.

“What’s going on
?”

I glance up at her. “You tell me, Lo
la. It seems that you’re calling the shots here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Anger explodes inside of me. “I send you a text saying that I miss you and you send me a text saying Merry Christmas? What’s that about?”

She wrings her hands in her lap, a conflicted look passing over her features.
“What do you want from me?”

I shrug, pushing up off the couch. “I’m done telling you what I want, Lola.
I think I’ve made my intentions pretty clear. It’s all up to you now.” Without looking at her again, I walk into my room and slam the door. Once inside, I lean against the wall and blow out a breath. I hear Lola’s footsteps, and I’m sure she’s leaving about now. A part of me wants to race out there and sweep her up into my arms, but I know I can’t do that. If she doesn’t want to be with me then I need to let her go. I’m already in too deep. I don’t need to sink any further if she’s not serious about us.

The door next to my head opens slowly. Lola’s head peeks in. I freeze, rolling my head to look at her.

“Ryker.” Her voice is barely above a whisper as she walks into my room. “I’m sorry.”

I don’t move from the wall. Instead I just study her from where I stand. She moves closer to me.
With a trembling hand she reaches out and touches my chest. I fight to keep my breathing even as her fingers dance up my chest and rest at my neck. She slides her hands all the way up until they are framing my face. Her eyes collide with mine and I see sadness in hers. There’s no teasing gleam, no hint of joking. It causes my stomach to clench, and I wonder if this is when she’s going to say goodbye. But I stay still. I told her it was up to her now, and I meant it.

She steps forward until her chest is flush against mine. Her hands frame my face and she
gently covers my lips with hers. My mouth responds to hers, betraying how desperately I want her. But I keep my arms pinned to my sides, despite how much they want to hold her.

“I missed you too,” she whispers against my mouth. “I missed you more than I thought possible. I wanted to text you that. I should have.”

“Why didn’t you?” I draw back, my head hitting the wall.

“It’s complicated.”

I circle my hand around her arm. “Don’t do that. You can’t keep giving me these mixed signals. I’ve been honest with you about where I stand. Now you need to do the same for me.”

“You want the truth
?” She peers up at me, open and vulnerable.

I nod, even though I’m not sure that I do now. What if the truth is that she doesn’t want to be with me? Can I really handle that?

“The truth is that I want to be with you. I want to be with you like I’ve never wanted to be with anyone in my entire life.” Her voice wavers, and I hold my breath. “No one has ever made me feel like you do. And no one has ever treated me the way you do. I missed you like crazy at Christmas. I missed you so much it scared me.” Her gaze drops to the floor. “I don’t know if I can do this. I wasn’t expecting to feel like this.”

“What are you talking
about? What can’t you do?” I tuck my finger under her chin. “Look at me, Lola. Talk to me.”

She bobs her head up and her lips quiver. I catch the traces of moisture in her eyes. A stilted laugh escapes through her red lips. “Can’t we just go back to joking about red lipstick
addiction or something? This is seriously depressing.” Fluttering her lashes, she tilts her head up to meet mine. Her hands rake up and down my chest, exploring every inch of my bare flesh. “You look so sexy in your boxers. Just kiss me.”

“Oh, God, Lola.”
I push her away from me, a low growl erupting from my throat. There is literally nothing I want more than to kiss her. I would give anything to feel her lips on mine, to lose myself in her caress, in her touch. But we need to talk. I can’t let her keep playing with my emotions like this. “Either tell me what’s going on or just leave.” I’m unable to look at her when I say these words. Staring at my shadow on the wall, I pray she doesn’t leave. I pray that she stays. I pray we can work things out.

“Okay, have it your way. We’ll talk.”

Apparently my prayers are working today.

The springs on my bed creak as Lola sinks down onto it. She stares at her slender fingers as she plays with them in her lap. “You don’t know what it’s like for me when I go back home.”

I kneel in front of her, picking up her hands. “Then tell me. I can’t help you if you keep shutting me out. I’m here for you, beautiful.”

Her gaze locks with mine. “My mom isn’t like
yours. She’s not sweet, and she doesn’t bake me things and cook me special dinners. She…” her voice trails off and she bites her lip.

“She what?”
I thread her fingers through mine, rubbing my fingertips over her skin.

“She has high expectations for me and my sister. Actually, both she and my dad do. And she’s very critical of me.” Lola sighs. “It’s like no matter how hard I try I will never be good enough for her.”

I squeeze her fingers. “I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head at my words. “I don’t want you to pity me. That’s the reason I never talk about it. I mean, I’m lucky, right? I was raised with money and my parents buy me anything I want.”

“Money isn’t everything, Lola. Trust me. I know. We’ve never had any, and yet I’ve always been happy with my life.”

Lola studies me intently for a minute. “I fina
lly told my mom about you.”

“Oh? And what did she say?”
My heart picks up speed.

A groan tears from Lola’s throat. “She doesn’t understand. She just trivialized what we have. Then she tried to push me off on a different guy – the son of one of my dad’s friends. He’s pre-med.”

This causes my stomach to knot. I drop her hand and stand up. “Oh. I see.”

Lola hops off the bed and comes up behind me. “But I don’t want to be with him. I want to be with you,
Ryker.”

“Were you with him when I texted you?” My shoulders tense.

Her lack of response tells me all I need to know.

“
So, you were hanging out with this guy your parents want you to be with and you couldn’t bother to text me back?” I whirl around to face her.

Her lips trem
ble. “I was just confused. I get like that around my parents. I just want so badly to please them, I guess.”

“What is it that you want, Lola?” I pin her with a challenging stare.

“You,” she says simply.

I want to leave it at that. I want to cling to that simple declaration, but a
ll I can think about is the fact that she was with another guy, and couldn’t be bothered to return my text. Visions of Fiona with Beckett come to mind and I shake them back. Only they won’t leave. They linger in my mind, sticking to the edges and taunting me. I can’t do it again. I just can’t.

“You have a funny way of showing it,” I say finally.

Lola’s face drops. I want to feel sorry for her, but at this moment I’m in self preservation mode.

“I think you should go.”

“What?” Her eyes widen.

“Yeah, go call Mr. Pre-med.
Whatever. I don’t care.”

She
shakes her head, confusion littering her face. “I don’t understand. Why are you being so cruel?”

I chuckle bitterly. “I’m being cruel? You spend Christmas with another guy and don’t bother to text me back and I’m being cruel? Clearly you need to invest in a dictionary because you don’t know the definition of the word cruel.”

“Fine,” her voice is soft, hurt. It almost breaks me. “I’ll go.” She stalks out of the room without looking back.

I think about Lola all night, feeling bad about the way things ended. But I’m also kind of proud, and I know I did the right thing. With
Fiona I was always the one who backed down and apologized, even when she was in the wrong. I don’t want to do that with Lola.

Pierce is gone for the evening so I watch mindless TV and then hit the sack early. The minute my head hits the pillow a knock on the door startles me. I pull on a t-shirt over my boxers and head to the front door. I open it to find Lola standing there.

Leaning against the doorframe I glance down at her. “What are you doing here?”

“I came here to say I’m sorry.”

“Is that it?” I raise a brow, still leaning against the doorframe.

“Look, I screwed up, okay?  But
I thought about you the whole time I was gone, and I couldn’t wait to see you again. When you threw me out earlier it killed me. I know I want to be with you. I’m sure of it. You’re the guy for me, Ryker. No matter what anyone else says.”

“How do we do that, Lola?”

“What do you mean?” She appears startled by the question.

“I mean, how do we make this work if every time we’re apart you question your feelings for me?”

Lola bites her bottom lip, red lipstick coating her front teeth. “I don’t question my feelings for you.” She sighs. “I never doubt you. I doubt myself. My parents just get my head all screwed up.” She reaches for me. “But I’ll work on it. For you I’ll do that. I want to be with you. I’m certain of it.”

I wrap my arms arou
nd her waist and pull her to me, knowing I don’t need to hear anymore. What she said is good enough for me. “God, I missed you, beautiful.”

“I missed you too.”