Love Struck (8 page)

Lola's mouth curves upward. "Good. Maybe he'll help get her mind off of Beckett."

The next half an hour flies by in a flurry of drinking, dancing and making out. I am completely under Lola's spell. It's like we are the only two people here. I can actually imagine that my apartment isn’t filled with other people.  All I can see is Lola. But then a tap on my shoulder brings me out of my tunnel vision.

“I can’t believe you, man." Beckett crosses his arms over his chest.

What is he doing here?
I look around for Pierce, but can't locate him. “It’s just a little party. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal. Did you see how
drunk Star is? She’s in the bathroom cleaning up puke as we speak.”

I glance over at the bathroom, feeling a little guilty. I hadn't even noticed that she'd
drank too much. I hadn't even really noticed her at all. Lola's fingers close around my arm, giving me courage. “So she had a little too much to drink. It’s not the end of the world.”

Beckett sticks his face in mine. “This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. I have rules for a reason.”

“Maybe I’m tired of living by your rules, Beckett. Sure I’m in your band, but that doesn’t mean you get to run my life.”

He narrows his eyes. “We’ve been friends a long time, man. I thought you understood. Maybe I was wrong.”

Now I feel like a jerk. I do know all about Beckett's screwed up family and the role alcoholism played in it. “Look, Beckett. Let’s talk about this later, okay?”

“Oh, we’ll talk about it later, because whether you like it or not I have rules for the members of my band, and there are consequences when those rules are broken.”

“Rules?” Star’s voice sounds behind us. “What rules?”

“I’ll explain later,” Beckett says harshly. Lola's fingernails dig into my flesh when he speaks.

“Rules, shmules,” Star says, swaying slightly, and I cringe.
Clearly she's hammered.

“I need to get you home, Star,” Beckett says, surprising me. Since when did Star become Beckett's responsibility?

This arouses Lola’s attention. She drops my arm and steps toward Beckett. “You’re not taking her anywhere."

“She needs to go home, and no one here is in any condition to take her,” Beckett counters.

“I’ll be fine, Lola,” Star says, slurring her words.

“I trust you’ll be a perfect gentleman?” The expression on Lola's face is stern.

“Hey, I’m not the one who brought her to some party and let her get hammered and hook up with a stranger." Beckett sneers. If I didn't know better I'd say that he really cares about Star.

Lola narrows her eyes and crosses her arms.  “And I’m not the person who upset her so badly tonight that all she wanted to do was get hammered and hook up with a stranger.”

“Okay, you got me,” Beckett says, and I seriously feel like he's a stranger to me at this point. “So, let me make it up to her.”

“Just be careful,” Lola speaks to him through gritted teeth.

After Beckett and Star leave, Lola turns to me. "Do you think it was smart for me to trust him?"

Stunned, I press my lips together. "Yeah, he seemed pretty genuine. I've seriously never seen Beckett act like that. I'm starting to think maybe he does have feelings for Star."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Lola stares off in the distance.

"Hey." I touch her face, gently turning her head so she'll face me. "You're not responsible for Star. She's a big girl."

"But she's my best friend, and I feel like it's my job to protect her."

"You can't control everything, Lola.
Some things are beyond your control. You need to learn to let some things go."

"W
ell, I think you need to learn how to do just the opposite." She steps closer to me, a challenging gleam in her eye.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh come on, you totally let Beckett walk all over you. You need to stand up to him. Put him in his place."

I know I should be offended by how she's speaking to me. However, she's right. I've never stood up to Beckett before
, and I need to. Maybe if I had things wouldn’t have ended with my last relationship. Lola makes me want to be a better man. "You know what I think?" I run my finger along her jawline. "I think we're perfect for each other."

"How do y
ou figure?" Her voice is a soft, gentle purr.

"You can teach me how to be more assertive, and I can teach you how to trust someone.
How to give up some of that control, and allow someone else to take care of you."

"You want to take care of me, huh?"

I nod. "Oh, yeah, I do." Curving my hand around her face, I cover my mouth with hers. "More than anything. Will you let me?" After speaking the words, I hear a tiny gasp at the back of her throat. I choose to take it as a yes.

11

Lola

"I wish I could go with you."
Ryker runs his hands down the length of my arms. "I've always wanted to see California."

"You've never been?" I lean against the wall in my dorm room and stare into his dark eyes.
Funny how I’ve been so nervous about my trip back home, but one look in Ryker’s eyes and I feel calm. We’ve only been dating a couple of months, but somehow he’s slipped seamlessly into my life as if he was always meant to be here.

"Never."
He leans forward, brushing his lips over my cheek. "But I look forward to seeing it with you someday."

I squirm, his words making me uncomfortable. "It's not that great. It's not like Star and I live near the beach or anything."

"I bet Thanksgiving is a huge deal at your house, huh?"

Nodding, I avert my eyes from his intense gaze. Star gives me a funny look from where she sits on her bed, shoving clothes into her suitcase. Even though we're leaving in a few minutes
, she is just now packing. My suitcase has been packed for days. I hate doing things last minute. That's when you end up forgetting your underwear or mascara or something. Just the thought of forgetting something important causes me to break out in hives. That's why I've re-checked my bag numerous times to be sure I have everything. By the way Star is haphazardly shoving things in her bag, I'm certain she'll miss something. "It's a long day with a lot of food and even more people. I bet you'll have more fun spending a quiet day with your mom." I loop my arms around his neck.

"I can't wait for you to meet her. I just know she'll love you.
What do you think your parents are going to say when you tell them about us?"

My st
omach clenches. "Um...who knows? It doesn't matter." Releasing him, I head toward my suitcase. Star raises her eyebrows at me, and I know exactly what she's thinking. Taking a deep breath, I walk toward my bed and run the pads of my fingers over my suitcase. "Well, we better get out of here if we want to make our flight on time."

Ryker
comes up behind me, circling his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. "I'm gonna miss you, beautiful."

I melt beneath his words. Spinning around, I kiss him softly on the lips.
"Me too, Mr. Rockstar." Then I smile slyly. "Should I leave a tube of lipstick to tide you over?"

"I thought I explained that it doesn't work like that. It needs to be on you." He bites my lips. "But you can give me a little fix before you head off."

"I'll consider it my charitable act of the day," I respond and press my lips to his. My fingers play with the bottom of his coarse hair, while his tongue pushes into my mouth. His hands dig into my hips, causing a flush of desire to run through me.

"Um..." Star's voice cuts into the moment. "We really do need
to get going. So break it up, you two."

Groaning, I pull away from
Ryker. When I give him one last hug, I think about how I really am going to miss him. In my head I know he's all wrong for me, but my heart doesn't seem to care about that.

After
Ryker leaves, Star turns to me. "You're not going to tell your parents about him, are you?"

I shake my head.
"No way."

"Didn't think so."

"They'll never approve." I reach out and grab the handle of my suitcase. After pulling it up and hearing it click into place, I roll the suitcase behind me.

"They don't even approve of me." Star snorts.

"Don't take it personally. They barely approve of me." I force out a laugh, but I almost choke on it. Already the suffocating feeling I always get around my parents is starting to close in on me. By the time I get home I won't even be able to catch a breath.  A cold sweat rises on my body and I feel like I'm falling. All of the control I've held on to while being here is slipping away, and I know by the time we land in California I won't even have the slimmest grasp on it. I just hope I can hold it together. Things have been good since I got here. My little problem has been under control, but I fear going home will cause it to re-surface.

"You okay, Lola?" Star's hand clamps on my shoulder.

I nod. "Yeah. Fine."

"You sure?"
Her eyebrows knit together in concern.

"Look at us switching roles all of the sudd
en," I say, even though I know it’s not the first time Star has had to take care of me. We both act like it’s always been the other way around, but we’re both fooling ourselves. With fake brevity, I push her hand off and lift my head high. "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's get outta here."

"Lola, stop slouching," Mom scolds from the other end of the table. She and Dad sit at opposite ends of our enormous dining table, the chair backs sticking out of their heads like they've sprouted horns. My sister, Camille, smirks from where she sits across from me.

My rebellious side is tempted to slouch further, but when I catch my dad's stern eye I sit up straight. Lifting my fork, I stuff a forkful of chicken into my mouth. It's no pub food or enormous burrito, but I'm starving
, so it tastes good. Maybe a little dry, but it'll do. Mom isn’t exactly a great chef. It’s why we have all of our events catered. I’m certain that Thanksgiving will be too. I chew quietly, keeping my posture straight.

"So, what's it like sharing a bathroom with, like, the entire floor at your dorm?" Camille asks sarcastically.

It seems like a rhetorical question, so I don't plan on answering. But when I notice everyone staring at me expectantly, I swallow and say, "It's not that bad."

"Oh, come on. It's
gotta be gross. You don't have to pretend like it's not," Camille says.

I narrow my eyes at her and speak through gritted teeth. "What is it like still being home and mooching off of Mom and Dad?"

"Lola, that was uncalled for," Mom says.

I ball my napkin in my lap, using it like a stress ball. "She started it," I mumble under my breath
, and then chastise myself for sounding like a spoiled child.

"Girls, let's not fight. Lola is only home for a few days. Let's make the most of it," Dad interjects.

That quiets the table and I go back to scarfing down my food. The only sounds are the crackling of ice cubes in my cup and the scraping of utensils on the plates. Once my piece of chicken is gone, I reach for the platter in the center of the table and spoon another piece onto my plate.

Mom's eyebrow lifts, and my
chest tightens. Determined not to let her silent accusation get to me, I just take another bite. Across from me, Camille pushes her plate back. I notice that she's left half of what she served herself. Not that I'm surprised. Camille prides herself on her slim figure. She tosses a strand of her long black hair over her shoulder, her dark eyes landing on me.

My cell vibrates in the pocket of my pants. I glance down.

"No phones at the table, Lola. You know that." Mom sighs in exasperation, acting like my couple of months away from this place has tainted me forever.

"Sorry," I mumble, my fingers itching to grab my phone. I'm guessing the text is from
Ryker, and I'm desperate to see what it says. Words from him would be a welcome relief right now.

"You got a boyfriend in Seattle, Lola?" Camille eyes me suspiciously.

My sister and I have never gotten along very well. Ever since I was born I think she's secretly hated me. Camille is one of these people who can't share anything. I think she's had it out for me from the first moment she glimpsed me in Mom's arms. It's only gotten worse over the years. I've always had more friends than her and certainly more attention from guys.

“No, no boyfriend.” The lie hurts as I force it from my throat
, and it burns my tongue like acid. It feels wrong to deny Ryker. We may not have been dating long, but he’s become a part of me. He’s under my skin, and pretending he doesn’t exist is like erasing a portion of myself.

“Well, that’s great, because we have a surprise guest coming to Thanksgiving this year.” Mom is practically giddy.

“Really?” My stomach rolls.

“Yes, one of your dad’s colleagues is coming and bringing his son. He’s your age and he’s pre
-med!”

Oh goodie.
“What’s his name?” I ask, because I’m curious. I’m sure it’s something stuffy like Miles or Neil.

“Nolan,” she says.

Close enough.
I try to picture pre-med Nolan taking me to a club or to the park where he had his first kiss. No, I have the feeling a guy named Nolan who is studying to be a doctor would never be as much fun as Ryker. Before I get asked anymore questions, I shove a few more forkfuls of food into my mouth.

“Well
, you certainly have gained an appetite.” Mom clucks her tongue.

And there it is.
The first dig. I chew slower and set my fork down, my hands trembling. I feel Mom’s gaze lingering on my stomach. My pants do fit a little tighter, and I know I’ve put on a few pounds since being away. The pull to the bathroom is strong, but I swallow hard and stay rooted in my seat. I don’t dare take another bite though. I let the rest of my food sit on my plate, mocking me with every passing minute. Finally dinner is over and Mom excuses us.

With jerky movements, I push away from the table and walk swiftly down the hallway and up the stairs. When I reach the top, I feel the pull like hands reaching out to me and grasping tightly. I enter the bathroom, knowing what I have to do.
Knowing the only way to get relief. After locking the door, I drop to my knees in front of the toilet. I lift my hand, my index finger extended when a buzzing in my pocket startles me. Startled, I drop my hand and pluck out my phone.
Ryker.

I hesitate just for one second. Then I stand up and push talk.

“Hey, beautiful.” Just hearing his voice fills me with comfort and peace. I draw strength from his sweet words.

Pushing open the bathroom door I step into the hall. “Hey,” I speak barely above a whisper, keeping my hand cupped around the phone whil
e racing to my room.

“Everything okay?”

I step into my room, close the door securely and sink down on my bed. I’m drowning in a sea of pink and lace. It circles around me, strangling me. Taking a deep breath, I fight against the claustrophobic feeling. “Yeah, fine.”

“You don’t sound fine. Is all that pampering getting to you?”
Ryker jokes.

I force myself to laugh along with him even though what I really want to do is cry. Not wanting to talk about my family, I change the subject. “So who is the best rock band of our time?”

“What?”

I lie back on my pillow and stretch out my legs while keeping the phone pressed to my ear. Closing my eyes, I pretend I’m back in Seattle wit
h Ryker instead of here suffocating in my childhood room. I ignore the floral potpourri scent, and try to conjure up the scent of Ryker’s leather jacket and his mint shampoo. In my mind, I envision my dorm room even with all its messiness and clutter. “On our first date you played a song and said it was by the best rock band of our time.”

“Oh yeah.
Fatal Seduction
.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“Have you seriously never heard of them?”

“I don’t really listen to music. I mean, every once in awhile I turn on the radio
, but that’s usually a pop station.”

“Man,”
Ryker breathes out the word. “I don’t know what I’d do without music. Music’s one of those things that keeps me sane. It’s there for me no matter what I’m going through. I have songs I listen to when I’m happy, sad, upset, or lonely. It’s like an escape for me, you know?”

A tear pricks at the corner of my eye. I blink it back. “Yeah, I do.”

“So if music isn’t your thing, what do you turn to when you need a pick me up?”

You
, I want to say, but I don’t. “Um…I don’t know. I like movies.”

“Movies?”
Ryker chuckles. “Okay. How about I take you to one when you get back?”

“Promise?”
I say, my spirits already lifting at just the thought of seeing him again.

“I promise, beautiful.”

When I hang up, I know that I will skate on that promise for the next few days. That promise will get me through endless criticisms from Mom and meeting pre-med Nolan. That promise will keep me sane and help me survive until I can be back in Ryker’s arms again - back to the place where I’m safe and comfortable.