Love Struck (9 page)

12

Ryker

“So when do I get to meet with this lovely girl you can’t stop talking about?” Mom asks, sliding the
bowl of mashed potatoes in my direction.

Even though it’s always been just the two of us for Thanksgiving
, that’s never stopped her from making a feast that could feed an entire army. The little table in the tiny kitchen of her one-bedroom apartment is overflowing with turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, biscuits and vegetables. I scoop another heaping serving of potatoes onto my plate and then drizzle thick gravy on top.

“Hopefully soon, Mom.”
My lips curl upward at the thought of Lola. If only she were here right now. I imagine she’d be wearing that red lipstick that drives me crazy, and she’d probably have on one of those black dresses she always wears. Having her here would definitely liven things up. I can’t even believe I’m thinking like this. I’ve never wanted to bring a girl home to meet my mom, especially not on a holiday. Man, that girl really has a hold on me. Funny thing is I have no desire to slacken that hold. If anything, I’d like to tighten it.

“Well, she’s welcome here anytime.” Mom reaches out and pats my hand with one of her smooth ones. Mom had me when she was really young, and she’s always bee
n the youngest of all my friends’ parents. Her skin is still smooth and tight, but lately I’ve noticed a few wrinkles gathering at the corner of her eyes and mouth. Still, her short golden hair is devoid of any gray, and her blue eyes still sparkle. She wears minimal makeup, and today she’s in her typical jeans and casual top. Her secretarial job at the law firm requires her to dress up all week, so at home she never does.

“Thanks. I know she’d love to meet you,” I add that last part in even though I’m not sure it’s true. Lola’s never showed interest in meeting my mom. In fact, she avoids the subject every time I broach it. However, I think that has more to do with her parents than mine. It’s clear that she doesn’t want me to meet her parents, although I’m not sure why. I suspect it’s because she’s not as serious about our relationship as I am. I’m determined to change that though. She’s promised to keep an open mind and let me prove my feelings to her, and I plan to do just that.

“Can I get you anything else?” Mom starts to stand, but I stop her with my hand.

“No, Mom. Sit. You’ve done enough.” Mom has raised me alone my whole life and she’s done an amazing job. I hate when she waits on me now. I want to be able to give to her for a change. That’s one of the reasons I work so hard on my music. I’m hoping that one day I’ll be able to make enough money that I’ll be able to help out my mom.

“Thanks.” She grins at me with her pale pink lips. ““I’m glad you’re finally moving on after Fiona.”

I stiffen at Mom’s mention of her name. We don’t usually talk about her.

“Yeah.” I bite my lip, hoping she’ll drop the whole thing.

“You deserve to be happy.”

“I’ve always been happy, Mom,” I assure her. Life has sometimes been tough, but Mom’s always done her best and made things as good as possible. “What about you? Dating anyone?” It’s a question I ask her every time I visit, but the answer’s always the same.

She lowers her fork, setting it on the table with a clatter.
“Of course not.”

“Why not?
You’re pretty…for an old lady.” I nudge her so she knows I’m joking.

“Oh, Ry
. I’m done with men.”

“Mom.”
I sigh, dropping my own fork. “It was such a long time ago. You have to move on. Besides, not every guy is like dad. There are good guys out there.”

“It’s not that simple
.” She waves away my words. Then she looks up at me with a serious expression. “Have you told Lola about your dad?”

My stomach tightens, and I shake my head. Unable to take another bite of my food, I push the plate back. “I can’t, Mom.”

“If you’re serious about her I think you need to tell her. You don’t want her to find out from someone else.”

“Who would tell her? No one knows.”
Well, not many people know.  Certainly no one that’s going to tell Lola.

“No relationship should start out with secrets. I
know better than anyone how that will end.” Her knowing look causes panic to rise inside of me. Mom’s right. Of course she is.

Still I can’t tell Lola right now. I may never be able to. It’ll ruin everything. If she’s already on the fence about us this will push her right over the edge, I’m sure of it.
“I don’t know, Mom. Maybe this is one secret that needs to stay buried. I mean, you know what happened when I told Fiona.”

“Oh,
Fiona was an idiot.” Mom swats away my words with her hand. “She wasn’t the girl for you. Everyone could see that except for you. You had blinders on when it came to that girl. Hopefully this Lola is different.”

My chest tightens at her words. I think about how Beckett thinks Lola is exactly like
Fiona. I feel like he’s wrong, but somewhere deep inside I worry that he’s right. I think it’s why I’m so bothered when Lola acts distant. In those moments she reminds me so much of Fiona and it scares me. 

After dinner, I force Mom to sit in the family room while I do dishes and clean up. She can hardly stand it and she tries to help a dozen times. I successfully shoo her away every time. That woman has no idea how to relax, I swear. While my arm is elbow deep in sink water and soap, my mind flickers to Lola. I wonder how her Thanksgiving is going. I’m pretty sure she’s not doing dishes right now.  From what she’s shared about her family
, I’m fairly certain that they have a maid or housekeeper or something. I glance around the tiny kitchen with the linoleum floors that are buckled and browning, the stained tile counters and dishwasher that barely works. This isn’t the same apartment I grew up in. Mom downsized when I moved out, but it might as well have been. They’ve all been very similar.

Lola and I have clearly lived very different lives. However, we seem to fit together somehow.

After filling the dishwasher, I start it and then lean against the counter. I pull my phone out of my pocket and shoot off a text to Lola.

I’m going through withdrawals.

I stare at the screen for several minutes, but nothing happens. My heart sinks thinking about Lola having the time of her life in California. Perhaps she doesn’t miss me at all. I hear Mom in the family room shuffling about. The TV clicks on and canned laughter plays.

In need of a fix, huh?

When my cell goes off in my hand, I flinch. A chuckle escapes from my lips and I hurriedly text back.
Badly.

I’ll be home soon.

I freeze. Did she say “home”? Does she think of Seattle as her home now? Maybe it was just a slip up. I need to know.
Home, huh? I thought you were home right now.

Oh. Oops. U
know what I mean.

My heart sinks. It
was
just a mistake.
I can’t wait.

Me too
.

I smile. Well, at least she misses me too.
I’ll take it.

Lola’s only been home a few hours when I show up at her dorm room. The minute she opens the door I fling my arms around her so hard I lift her feet from the floor. Then I kiss her deeply.

“Feel better?” She lifts her eyebrow.

“A little. But it’s not enough. I’ve gone almost a week without a fix.”

Lola giggles. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m back now, and I have all the red lipstick you need.”

“You guys are weird,” Star interjects from where she kneels on the floor, unpacking her suitcase. Her lap is piled high with t-shirts and jeans, a few socks are strewn around by her knees.

“Oh, ignore her. She’s in a ba
d mood.” Lola dismisses her words with a flick of her wrist.

I turn my gaze to Star. “It didn’t go well at your parents?”

Star shakes her head, resting a hand on her clothes. “It was okay. I felt worse about it until Lola reminded me that at least I’m not stuck with her family. Now it doesn’t seem so bad.”

Lola shifts her gaze away from me. I tighten my hold around her waist. “Did things not go well for you, beautiful?”

“Oh, it was just family stuff, you know.” Lifting her head she smiles at me, but it appears fake. “What about you? Did you have fun with your mom?”

I wish she would open up to me about her family but it’s clear that she’s not ready yet. And I understand all about that.
“Yeah. It was quiet, but nice. And my mom sure makes a mean turkey.”

“Hmm.”
Lola rests her head on my chest. “Turkey sounds good.”

“Did you not have turkey?”

“Prime rib,” Lola speaks against my chest, her breath hot on my skin. Star stands, clothes pressed to her chest. She walks to her dresser, opens a drawer and stuffs the clothes inside. The drawer is so full it won’t close all the way.

“Prime rib, huh?
” I say to Lola. “Fancy. Your mom must be a great cook.”

Star snorts
, still trying to close the drawer. A sleeve hangs out of it. Lola peers up at me through long dark lashes. “My mom doesn’t cook. It was catered.”

My insides coil into tiny knots. Our lives are completely different. It makes me wonder if I’m fooling myself
about this whole relationship.

“I’m sure your home-cooked turkey was better.” Lola’s fingers play with the collar of my shirt
, sending chills skittering down my flesh. Her other hand snakes around my waist, and she hooks a finger into my belt loop as if binding herself to me.

And just like that all my doubts fly away. It doesn’t matter that our lives have been different.
All that matters is this moment right now. And I’m determined to make it count. 

“So, pick a night for me to take you to that movie we talked about,” I say.

Her eyebrows shoot up. “You remembered?”

“Of course.
I made you a promise, and I always keep my promises.”

The look she gives me makes my stomach clench. I get the feeling that Lola’s not used to having someone to count on.

13

Lola

“You’re going out with Beckett?” I am dumbfounded at Star’s words. She came rushing into the dorm room after rehearsal, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkling, and an intense energy around her that’s unnerving. Immediately she started rummaging through her drawers looking for something to change into and mumbling about meeting Beckett for coffee.

“Hmm mm,” Star responds absently while holding up a top and inspecting it.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” I peer up at her from where I sit on my bed and wiggle my freshly painted toes. Red, of course. I screw the cap of the nail polish on securely and set it down on the bed.

Star whirls around to face me, a shirt dangling between her fingertips. “Well, the guys all tried to kick Beckett out of the band tonight.
Ryker started it actually.”

“He did?” I raise an eyebrow, sitting up straighter. Pride swells inside me.

Star’s eyes darken at my response. “Don’t look so happy. It was a shitty thing to do. Apparently the guys had this plan to kick Beckett out and make me the lead singer. Isn’t that crazy?”

“Yeah.
Crazy.” I drop my gaze, pretending to intently stare at my toes.

“Did you know about this, Lola?”

“Um…not exactly, but kind of.” It’s not like Ryker ever came out and told me this, but I’ve kind of suspected something like this might happen since that first night we went out. I know Ryker and the other guys are tired of being controlled by Beckett.

“
Nice way to be vague, Lola.” Star rolls her eyes. “Anyway, I think Beckett assumed I was on board with it. When I stuck up for him instead, he just sort of softened toward me.”

I eye my friend for a minute. I’m not surprised at all that she stuck up for Beckett even after how mean he’s been to her. It’s clear that she’s head over heels for the guy, even if I can’t figure out why. A part of me wants to tell her she’s being an idiot, but I know I won’t do that. Because the bigger part of me just wants Star to be happy. She’s always supported me, and I need to do the same for her. This is not the time to be “control freak Lola”. It’s time to just let her make her own decision.

“Well, just be careful,” I say, because let’s face it, I can’t let her go without at least a warning. I may have resolved to back off, but I can never completely let go. I just don’t have it in me.

After Star leaves, I pick up my cell and text
Ryker.

Heard what happened tonight.

After a few minutes a reply comes.
Star told you?

Yeah. I’m proud of you, my big brave
rockstar.

Does this mean I get a reward?

U know it.
As I type the words, a smile forms on my lips.

Open the door.

My heart skipping a beat, I jump off the bed and hurry to the front door. When I open it Ryker stands in front of me, his hands shoved deep in the pocket of his tight jeans. I wonder if I will ever get used to how incredibly hot he is. He steps toward me, cradling the back of my head with his hand. His fingers curve around my throat.

A thought strikes me the minute he angles his face toward mine. “Oh, I just realized that I’m not wearing lipstick.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Undeterred, he moves in closer.

“But doesn’t this ruin the whole thing since the addiction is to the red lipstick?” I tease.

“I think we’ve bypassed that at this point.” His lips are practically on mine now. They hover like a butterfly, just at the edge of my mouth.

“Oh
, yeah?”

“Yeah.
My addiction is for your lips in any color.” His breath fans over my mouth. “And it’s kind of sexy that you have nothing on them.” His lips collide with mine fiercely. It’s funny because even though this whole addiction thing has become a joke, sometimes I wonder if it’s pretty close to the truth. When Ryker kisses me it’s so intense that it’s like he can’t live without it; like he
is
addicted.

When we part, I thread my fingers through his. “Come in.” I yank him inside and close the door.

“I like your toes.” He nods his head downward.

“Wow, a guy who notices even the smallest detail. You know that you’re ruining every other guy for me.”

Ryker grins like he just won a prize. He touches my nose with his fingertip. “That’s what I’m trying to do, Lola. It’s all part of my plan.”

“You have a plan, huh?” I re
ach my arm up, fingering the coarse strands of hair at the base of his neck. “Do you always have a plan for the girls you date?”

“Nope.
You’re the only one.” His eyes lock with mine. “I want to be the only guy you ever want, Lola.”

My heart plummets. He can’t be serious. We’ve only been dating a short time, and I’m only eighteen. All of the words he’s said to me swirl inside my head, one passing over another like a kaleidoscope. I wriggle away from him, n
eeding some air. Facing away from him, my fingers flutter nervously over my neck. My shadow casts on the wall, accusatory and mocking. Ryker is the nicest guy I’ve ever met. And he likes me so much. The truth is that I like him so much too. But am I ready to take the commitment plunge with him? I’m not sure. Besides, it’s not practical. It doesn’t make sense. He’s a struggling musician. He can’t provide for me, take care of me the way I need. If only he could just back off his intensity a little bit. But I can tell that it isn’t going to happen with him. Ryker has got to be one of the most intensely passionate people I’ve ever known.

“Hey.” He runs his hands down my arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you. It’s just that I like you so much, beautiful.”

My heart melts every time he calls me that. Not hot, or smokin’, or bangin’, or any of the other phrases guys have said to me over the years. No, there is something so pure and sweet about the fact that he refers to me as beautiful. It’s like I’m a precious jewel, something to be cared for and treasured. I sag against him, my back resting along the muscles of his chest. His head drops and his lips skate along my neck. Arching up my back, I moan and sink even further into him.

“I like you too,
” I say breathlessly.
Maybe too much.
But I don’t say that. I keep those words inside, tucked close to my heart where they are safe and hidden.

I can’t believe I let Ryker talk me into this.
Even his hand tucked in mine doesn’t quell the nervous energy surging through me. I spent a long time curling my hair perfectly, my makeup is immaculate, and my outfit is conservative, tasteful. Still I’m not sure if Ryker’s mom will like me. Will she think I’m good enough for her son? More importantly, will she be able to sense my hesitation and noncommittal tendencies when it comes to relationships?

Most of the guys I’ve dated prior to
Ryker have been friends of our family, so I know the parents. It’s not like I don’t know how to charm the parents of my boyfriends. But this is different.

Ryker’s
different.
And for some reason it’s really important to me that his mom like me.

The apartment complex is pretty run down. In fact, when
Ryker first parked his car the hair on my neck prickled with something akin to fear. But I forced my face to remain neutral. This is how Ryker grew up, and I don’t want him to think I’m looking down on his life or that it makes me nervous. But the truth is that it does. This is exactly the type of place my parents would never let me go. Guys who lived in places like this are the kind of guy I was warned about.

As
Ryker and I make our way up the stairs, I catch sight of a man in his pajamas standing outside smoking a cigarette. He turns to us, giving us a toothless grin. I struggle to breathe. When we reach the front door of his mom’s apartment, Ryker gives my cold fingers a squeeze. “You okay?”

I nod, biting my lip.

“She’s going to love you,” Ryker says softly.

“I hope so.” Continuing to bite my lip, I wiggle my leg.
The truth is that I hope I like her as well, because I know how important she is to Ryker.

He
bends toward me. “I’ve never seen you nervous before. It’s kinda cute.”

“Don’t get used to it,” I tease, straightening my spine and smoothing down my skirt with my hand.

Grinning, he knocks on the door, and I realize what he just did. He made me forget about my nervousness. Man, this guy really knows me. The thought comforts and unnerves me at the same time. I’ve always been told that I’m hard to read, unpredictable. How does Ryker understand me so well in such a short period of time?

The woman who opens the door is much younger than I expected. She’s very pretty too. I guess I know where Ryker gets his good looks from. She wears jeans and a shirt, her golden hair hanging around her shoulders, smooth and shiny. “You must be Lola? I’m Dana. It’s so nice to meet you.” She reaches out an arm and I think she will shake my hand, but instead her arm wraps me in a hug. I return the hug, surprised by it. My mom never hugs strangers. In fact, she doesn’t really like to hug people she knows.

After hugging me, she leans over and kisses
Ryker on the cheek. “Hi, son.”

The smile he gives his mom warms my insides. The love he has for her is evident on his face. A guy who cares for his mom like this is a keeper for sure. I’m caught off guard by the thought
, and I reach for the doorframe to steady me.

“Come in.” Dana ushers us inside.

When I step into the tiny apartment I think about how the entire thing could fit into my parents’ family room. The carpet is an ugly brown color and the walls are a stark white. But I can tell that Dana has put a lot of effort into the décor, and it shows. It’s actually quite cozy. The scent of something baking wafts under my nose, and my stomach growls.

“In just a minute the cookies will be ready,” Dana says. “Have a seat.” She indicates the dark leather couch
, and I plop down on it. Ryker takes the seat next to me, his fingers still woven in mine.

“Mom makes the best cookies,”
Ryker tells me.

Cookies sound amazing, but also cause me to cringe. I’ve been eating way too much lately
, and it shows. It didn’t bother me nearly as much until I went home for Thanksgiving. Now it’s all I can think about. My gaze flits toward the hallway where I’m sure the bathroom is located, but I force myself not to think about that. I will not do that here. I will not let my little problem surface at Dana’s house.

Dana takes a seat on the recliner near the couch. She folds her hands neatly in her lap. Her mannerisms are graceful and poised, and it makes me wonder about her background. It doesn’t appear that she’s always been poor. She carries herself a lot like the women I know back home.

“So, Lola, Ryker tells me you’re from California.”

“Yes.” I nod.

“How are you liking Seattle? Much colder than what you’re used to, huh?”

“Yeah, but I like it a lot,” I answer honestly. Dana’s calming presence eases a lot of the anxiety I felt upon arrival.

“What’s your favorite part so far?”

“The people,” I say
, before I can stop myself. My gaze finds Ryker’s and his lips curl upward in a satisfied smile.
One person in particular
.

A timer dings in the kitchen, startling me.

Dana hops up. “Oh, that’s the cookies. I hope you like chocolate chip. It’s Ryker’s favorite.”

I marvel at her words. I’m not sure if
my mom knows my favorite cookie. And if she did, she’d never bake them for me. Just the thought of my mom in the kitchen baking almost causes me to laugh out loud. “Yes, that’s sounds great,” I assure her.

When she leaves the room,
Ryker leans into me. “See, what did I tell you? She loves you already.”

“She’s very sweet. I’m sure she’s loved all your girlfriends,” I respond.

“Impossible.” He shakes his head. “You're the first one she's met." I almost introduced her to Fiona. In fact, we were supposed to have dinner here the week after things ended with us. I was really starting to fall for her. Man, I am glad things never went that far. It was bad enough the way she hurt me. I wouldn't want my mom involved too.

“What?” My head snaps up at his words.

Ryker shrugs like he didn’t just drop an explosive bombshell on me. “I knew they weren’t going to last, so it felt like a waste to bring them here.”

His words roll around in my head over and over.
I knew they weren’t going to last.
“And you’re sure we’re going to last?”

“If I have my way we will,” he states simply.

And just like that he starts to tear down the walls I’ve spent a lifetime building around my heart.