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Authors: Amber Garza

BOOK: Love Struck
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25

Ryker

 

 

My cell rings the minute I show up at rehearsal. It’s Lola. I don’t even have to look at the screen to know th
at. Other than my mom, she’s pretty much the only person who calls me.


Wanna hang out tonight?” she asks.

I press the phone to my ear, wedged between my shoulder and cheek as I head into Beckett’s parents’ garage. The other guys are already setting up their stuff. Star and Beckett are locked in an embrace in the corner. Those two can never keep their hands off of each other.

“I’m at rehearsal, remember?” I love that Lola and I are back together. And I love that she needs me. But I’m starting to wonder if she’s having issues fully trusting me again.

“Oh. That’s right.
Tomorrow night, then?”

“We have a gig. You’re coming, right?” I set my guitar case down near my amp.

“Of course. I don’t plan to let any girl get near my sexy man.”

Her words alarm me. “Lola, you know that’s never going to happen again, right?”

A pause. “Yeah. It was just a joke, that’s all.”


As long as that’s all it was,” I say.

“It was,” she assures me, but I hear defensiveness in her tone.

“Okay. I’ll call you after practice.” I sigh as I hang up. Ever since we got back together I’ve wanted to tell her my whole story. It’s only fair, since I know everything about her now. But if she’s having trouble trusting me, telling her the secret about my past will only make her more distrusting.

“Trouble in paradise?”
Beckett takes a step toward me. Star is now sitting at her keyboard.

I clear my throat. “I don’t know. Everything seems to be going well, but Lola just seems a lot
more clingy than before. It’s like she’s worried I’ll cheat again.”

“Like I said.
High maintenance.” He draws the words out.

I roll my eyes at him. “Thanks. That’s helpful.” Leaning down, I open my guitar case. Beckett walks over to his
mic and straps his guitar over his chest.

“Okay, listen up. We’re going to try a new song that I wrote this week,” Beckett speaks into his
mic.

We haven’t done a new song in awhile. Ever since Beckett and Star got together, it’s like Beckett lost his writing
mojo. I think he’s been having trouble writing the same tortured lyrics as before since he’s finally happy. Beckett hands us each a chord sheet and then starts playing. I follow along, listening carefully.

Beckett’s raspy voice rings out, Star’s soft tone complimenting it nicely.

It’s locked up tight.

With no key in sight.

The diary of your soul.

Let me in. Let me peek.

It’s your heart I seek.

The diary of your soul.

Read the words.

Turn the page.

Let me in on every phrase.

The diary of your soul.

When we finish, I stand still a minute, the lyrics playing in my head. It’s like Beckett read my mind. It’s like he wrote it for me. Glancing up, I catch his eye. He nods subtly, but I see it. I smile appreciatively. Then just as quickly the moment passes and he turns back to the mic, barking orders again.

My gaze connects with the words on the chord chart. Lola and I may be back together, but I fear we have a long road ahead of us.

 

It’s late.
Too late. I’m tired just like I always am after a gig, but Lola is over and she seems wired - almost like she just drank five coffees or something. I fear that she might have. I saw her sucking them down while we were playing. A part of me just wants to call it a night. My pillow and warm bed beckon to me. Ever since I graduated I’ve been so busy. I’m interning at a local radio station, which is just a fancy way of saying that I’m working for free. For money I’m working at a music store near my apartment. Plus, Beckett’s been booking us twice as many gigs, so that’s helped a lot. But I can’t say goodnight to Lola just yet. We’ve spent the past couple of days apart, and she’s practically giddy to be with me now. Things are too fragile between us for me to cut our night short.

Lola’s hand rests on my neck as we sit together on the couch.
“The new song you guys played tonight was interesting.”

“Yeah.”
I pick at a loose thread on my jeans, wondering why she’s bringing this up.

“It seemed so odd to me that Beckett wrote it. Do you think he and Star are having problems?” Her eyebrows jump up. “I mean, when I’m with them everything seems great
, and Star hasn’t mentioned anything to me.”

“Well, you know…” I rack my brain for the right thing to say. “Relationships are complicated.”

“Yeah.” She grins at me. “But not ours. Ours is simple. So long as I’m feeding your little addiction.” She touches the tip of my nose with her finger.

Her words trigger a question in my mind. “Speaking of which, how are you doing? You know, with the whole eating disorder thing?”

A dark look cloaks her face, and I fear that maybe it was too soon to bring this up.

“I only ask because I worry about you.” I reach for her, touching her arm. “I just want to help you. There’s no judgment here.”

“I know,” she says. “It’s just that I struggled with it a lot when I was with Nolan. He was kinda like my parents are, I guess. Just had a lot of expectations for me and stuff.”

“Did you ever sleep with him?” The words spill from my mouth before I can stop them. Ever since we got back together I keep envision
ing that guy with his hands all over Lola’s body, and it kills me. “I’m sorry.” I pull away from her, feeling like an idiot. “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.”

“No
. It’s fine. You’re my boyfriend, so it is your business. And no, we never did.”

I exhale, relief flooding me.

“I couldn’t. Not with him. I want you to be my first.”

I freeze. “You’re a virgin?” I’m shocked. I don’t know why
, but I always assumed that Lola had been with guys before.

She
nods, a slight flush creeping up her cheeks.

“So am I,” I admit.

“Really?” Lola’s eyebrows shoot up. “How is that possible?”

“It’s hard to imagine that any girl would pass on all this, huh?” I tease, pointing at myself.

Lola giggles. “Yeah, it is.”


The truth is that I’m just old fashioned, I guess,” I say sobering up. “My mom always taught me to be gentleman, remember? She also always told me to wait until I got married.”

Lola shakes her head, disbelieving. “I didn’t think any guys actually did that anymore.”

“Most don’t.”
Most guys don’t have the same beginning as I do, though.
If she knew my whole story she’d know why I’m waiting.

Lola’s hand reaches for me, her fingers playing with the edges of my hair. It’s something she does often, and it feels incredible.
“Where do you get your dark hair from? Your mom’s is so light.”

Her question startles me. “Um…my dad, I guess.”

“I bet you look just like him,” she says.

And she’s right. I do. Just one look at my mom will tell you that. We look absolutely nothing alike. But I keep my lips pressed together. I don’t want to talk about my dad with Lola. Not now. Not when things are precarious as it is. I’m not sure this is the time to spill my secret.

“Have you ever seen at least a picture of him?” she presses, and irritation bubbles inside of me. Why is she harping on this?

I
don’t want to lash out at her. That would be unwise. Besides, it’s not her fault. I think she’s just trying to get to know me better. I’m sure she means nothing by it. But I’ve got to move this conversation on to something else. So I do what Lola and I do best. I make light of it. “Yeah, actually, and you know what? He looks kinda like me, but not as hot, I’m afraid.” I lean in close to her, inhaling her coconut scent and then throw her a wink.

She giggles, throwing her head back and exposing her pale neck. Taking my opening, I nestle my head into it, caressing the soft skin. She moans, arching up her back
, and it turns me on. I pepper kisses all the way up her neck, chin and face until my mouth rests on hers. Her hands clamp around my neck and I wrap mine around her waist. As we continue to kiss, I wonder if this is how it will always be with us. Will we always use sarcasm and kissing to sidestep every serious conversation? As her tongue shoots into my mouth, a low growl erupts from my throat.
Maybe it isn’t such a bad plan. I mean, it could be worse, right?

 

It’s early in the morning, and I stop by Lola’s on my way to work. Star opens the door, her hair sticking up everywhere and lines from her pillow indenting her cheek.

“Oh.
Hi, Ryker.” Her voice is groggy. “I’m afraid the princess is still getting her beauty sleep.”

“Ah.” I look past Star to Lola’s bed. A patch of black hair and one arm is visible above the huge comforter. “That must be how she stays so gorgeous.”

“She’s not that great,” Star retorts with a teasing smile on her face.

“I heard that.” Lola rolls over.

“Miracle of miracles. She’s awake.” Star laughs.

I walk past her and she closes the door behind me. “I brought you coffee, beautiful.”

Lola sits up, brushing the hair from her face. She has no makeup on and her hair is a mess, but she still looks amazing. “Thanks.” Her voice is even lower and huskier than normal. It’s actually pretty sexy. She reaches for the coffee, holding it between her hands. “Wanna hang out for a little while? I don’t have class for a few hours.”

I shake my head. “I’m actually on my way to work.”

“I’m gonna head to the restroom, Lola,” Star calls as she steps out into the hallway.

Lola
nods to her friend. Then she turns to me, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout. “You’re always busy lately.”

“I’m not in school anymore. I have to make money now.” I place my hand on her leg which is buried under her thick blanket.

“I wish you didn’t have to work so hard for it.”

“You and me both.”
I kiss her swiftly on the mouth.

“If
Beckett’s
the best band in Seattle, how come you guys aren’t making more money?” She lifts the paper cup to her lips and takes a tentative sip.

“Because we mostly play small clubs, local places.
Maybe one day we’ll be able to afford some big time manager and they can book us other places. Beckett isn’t exactly great at that.” I glance over at the clock. “I better get going. I’ll call you when I’m off.”

“I have classes until late.” She frowns. “God, I wish I had something else in my life besides stupid school.”

“You do.” I squeeze her thigh. “You have me.”

“Great. Can I major in that?”

I laugh. “I don’t think so.”

She wrinkles up her nose. “While you and Star are off writing and playing music, I still have no idea what my passion is.”

“You’ll figure it out.” I kiss her again. “I really have to go. We’ll talk later.” When I leave Lola’s room, her words settle into my mind. If only I could help her figure out what her gift is. I know it bothers her. It has since we met. It’s like she needs to know what her purpose is in life. I hurry down the hall and out into the parking lot. As I weave through the other cars in an effort to get to mine, I continue to replay our entire conversation. And then it hits me. I know exactly how to help Lola. And in the process, I’ll be helping the band too.

With swift movements, I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial the familiar numbers.

“Dude, your house better be on fire,” Beckett slurs.

I cringe, realizing how early it is. “Sorry.”

“What’s the emergency?”

“No emergency.”

“Then I’m hanging up. Call me back at a decent hour.”

“Wait!” I holler, willing him not to hang up. “I’m on my way to work and I need to talk to you about something.”

“Fine.”  Beckett heaves a weary sigh.

I smile and tell him what I’ve come up with.

 

 

26

Lola

 

 

You can do this.
I take a deep breath and force myself to stay seated. My heart is racing, and sweat beads my skin. The waist on my pants stretches over my full stomach. I keep telling myself that I’m happy and in control. The words play over and over in my head, a silent mantra, as the empty Chinese food containers litter my bed and seem to mock me.

A few wadded up napkins and my discarded chopsticks are all that is left of the exorbitant amount of food I just ate.
Why do I keep doing this?
Maybe I need to get some help or something. Perhaps I’m not strong enough to kick this on my own.

Gathering up all the containers, I carry them to the trash bin and toss them inside. I glance at the door to the dorm room, knowing that relief is just down the hall. Taking a step forward, I already feel a little lighter, the pressing on my chest dying down. I open the door and step into the hallway and right into a man’s chest. I recognize his smell instantly
, and I crumble in his arms.

“Oh,
Ryker,” I speak into his chest.

“What happened?” His voice is laced with concern. “Is everything okay?”

I shake my head, unable to look up. I don’t want to, because I don’t want to read the disappointment on his face. The girl he fell for was strong and in control. Will he still want me when he realizes how weak I really am? I mean, it was one thing to find out the first time, but that was months ago. Now it all seems to have gotten worse.

A couple of girls race down the hallway, laughing and chatting. I stiffen in
Ryker’s arms as they glance over at us curiously.

“C’mon, let’s go inside.”
Ryker ushers me in my dorm room. The scent of Chinese food still wafts in the air, sinful and inviting all at once. His nose scrunches, his gaze landing on the garbage can.
He knows.

Tears fill my eyes. “I don’t know why I can’t beat this.”

“It’s okay.” He grabs me, pulling me to him. His arms wrap around me like a warm blanket cocooning me in safety. With his fingers, he strokes my hair. “I’ll help you. It’s going to be alright.”

When my parents first found out I had a problem, they made me deal with it in private. They didn’t want anyone else to find out. My dad was especially adamant about it, because he felt that if other doctors knew it would reflect poorly on him. But this time, I wonder. I mean, if I seek help out here, it won’t get back to my parents, right?
“Ryker?” I peer up at him.

“Yes, beautiful?” He reaches down, wiping my tears with his fingertips.

“I think maybe I want to make an appointment with a therapist. Someone who can help me. Does that sound stupid?” I worry that I’m admitting that I’m weak and can’t take care of myself. I’m worried that one day he’ll just want to cut his losses, find a nice older girl who is mature and isn’t so needy.
God, when did I become the needy girl?
I cringe at the realization. 

“No, not at all. I think it sounds smart.”

“Do you regret staying with me?” I have to ask.

“What?”
Ryker’s eyes widen. “Why would you even say that?”

I move away from him, pace the room. My hands fly up to my head and swirl in my hair. Man, I even look terrible. “It’s just that when we first started dating it was so easy. Our
relationship was all about red lipstick addiction and rockstar jokes. We went to movies and danced at clubs. Now it’s like I’m falling apart and taking you with me. I don’t blame you if you want out. I mean, I know this isn’t exactly what you signed up for.”

“It’s not?” He
comes up behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Lola, I didn’t fall for you because I thought our relationship would always be easy. Yeah, I like when we joke and have fun together. I love that you’re sarcastic and witty. But Lola, life isn’t always fun and games. I get that. I fell in love with the person that you are. And that hasn’t changed. Just because you’re going through some tough things right now doesn’t mean that I want to bolt. I’m sorry if that’s been your experience with other people.” He spins me around to face him, grazing my face with the back of his hand. “I want to help you through this. However long it takes. I’m in this for the long haul, Lola. You don’t have to worry about scaring me away.”

“I changed my mind,” I whisper.

He furrows his brow, his hand freezing. “About what?”

“I think I do believe in fate,” I say, referring to our conversation the night at the pub. “I was always meant to
find you. My whole life I’ve always thought I was this super strong, capable woman who never needed anyone. But the truth is that’s just because I couldn’t really count on anyone. But I hadn’t met you yet. You’ve saved me so many times. I need you, Ryker. More than I’ve ever needed anyone else. And for the first time in my life that doesn’t scare me.”

“I love you, beautiful.” His lips cover mine, a soft gentle reminder of his love.

“I love you too, Ryker.”

When we part, I take a step backward and sink down onto my bed.
Ryker sits next to me, his thigh brushing mine.

“So, what happened tonight that upset you?”

I grin sadly, thinking about how well Ryker knows me. It used to scare me, but now I find it comforting. “My parents found out about my breakup with Nolan and that I’m back together with you. They’re coming for a visit next week.” I frown. “And they want to meet you.”

“That’s great.” He
smiles.

“No, it’s not. Believe me.” I shake my head.

“Hey.” He tucks his finger under my chin. “Don’t worry about me. I’m a big boy. I can handle it. Besides, once I turn on my rockstar charm they won’t be able to help it. They’ll fall in love with me, just like their daughter did.”

“I wish.” I snort.

“Stranger things have happened, right?”

“Not really,” I mumble, as a thought strikes me. “Hey, why’d you come over tonight? I thought you were working late and had to be
up early for a shift at the radio station?”

“I do, but I had some news for you that I just couldn’t wait to share.”

“Really?” I angle my body toward him, curiosity filling me.

A hesitant
look passes over his features.

“What is it?” I sit forward.

“It’s just that I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this if it’s too much right now.”

“Do what?” I prod.

“Okay.” He sighs. “I was thinking about what you said about not knowing what your gift is. Well, the thing I know about you is that you’re a great planner. You’re organized and self-motivated. As you know, our band could really use a manager. So, I talked to Beckett and he agreed that you would make a great one.”

I take in his words, feeling floored. “I never thought about being a band manager before.” Standing, I mull over the prospect. “But it does sound right up my alley.”

He stands. “But like I said, if it’s too much right now we can wait.”

I whirl around to face him. “No. I think it’s perfect. I think it’s just the thing to help me, to give me some sort of purpose and direction. Besides, it means I actually get to spend more time with you. And I get to be a part of your music
, which is amazing.”

“You’re
always a part of my music,” he says. “It’s you I think about every time I’m up on stage playing.”

 

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