Chapter Ten

Megan

 

 

 

 

Connor has texted me a couple of times since our date, but I keep blowing him off. The date came to rather an abrupt end when I told him I was sick and had him take me home. After seeing that picture and feeling my stomach roll at the memories, it wasn’t even that much of a lie.

With every memory that he forces in front of me, I’m pulled deeper and deeper under his spell, and I’m worried that, maybe soon, I won’t remember who I am without him. He consumes me. For every space he didn’t fill, now he’s there; in the morning when I fill up my coffee and remember how he takes his, to pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose and remembering his good-natured teasing about how I made a “cute” geek. I’m struggling to think an independent thought. And that scares me.

It was wrong of me to go out with Connor. He deserves better than to be strung along, but that’s exactly what I’ve done. There can’t be anything between us.

Not now.

Not ever.

The gravel crunches under my feet. It’s getting easier to navigate now that I spend most days here. I hope Ryder is out on club business today. His absence makes it a lot easier to concentrate. I sometimes see him watching me through the window and I pretend to type, all the while panicking that he might come in and see a nearly blank screen, red squiggles under the non-words I’ve typed.

I step inside the office to find Ryder sitting on my desk, his eyes finding mine as soon as I look up.

“What are you doing in here?” I toss my purse onto my chair.

“Just checking in on everything.” He smirks at me before standing up and stepping to the side to make room for me.

“I don't need you checking in on me. In fact, my life would be a whole lot easier if you'd just keep your distance and let me work.” My hands are shaking so I cross my arms over my chest and hide them under my armpits. His blue eyes study me and I squirm under his gaze.

“I mean it. Get out.” I point at the door, chin held high, not moving my eyes from his. It’s so hard to stand firm but I have to. I can’t be that person again.

“My, haven’t we grown a backbone.” He steps toward me. I want to retreat but in this small space I have few options. “Just so you know, I have no intention of making your life any easier, princess.”

He shoots me a wink before he turns around and leaves, taking all the air in the room with him.

“Ugh!” I flop into my chair, try to calm down, leaning across to switch on the computer, watching the screen come to life as my breathing slowly returns to normal. Would it be too much to hope that he’ll leave me alone for the rest of the day?

My gut says yes.

It's been a week since he came back into my life. One week, and each day is harder than the one before it. Judging by what little I’ve managed to get through so far, I can’t see this project being completed in anything less than a few months. I honestly don't know how I'll survive.

The door opens and a pretty girl with dark hair walks in. “Cutter told me to come down here and see if you needed any help. I used to work at the club with him.” She offers me a smile and a hand. “I’m Jaz.”

“Megan, and that would be great.”

“Just tell me what you need done.” She pulls a chair over and sits down across from me and the two of us start to tackle the piles on my desk. As I'm talking to her I find out that she and Cutter are together, which puts my mind at ease because with her boyfriend so involved, at least I know she can be trusted to keep the fact that what I'm doing is far from legal to herself.

“So what’s your deal?” She asks the question, but her eyes are on the papers in front of her. The casual way in which she asks makes me think she’s just being polite, but the teenage girl in me knows that this is much more.

I pause for a minute, not knowing how much or little I should say. “I work for the firm that the club hired, but I know one of the brothers from high school.”

“Really?” She raises an eyebrow.

“We dated in high school, but he was a year ahead of me and when he left I never saw him again. Well, until about a week ago.” The story sounds so simple, but really it's anything but. Telling her the whole story is out of the question, though. Not only would that mean reliving one of the most traumatic and humiliating times of my life, but doing it with him so close by . . .

I don’t know that I could hold it together.

“Who?”

I look up, brought back by her question. “Ryder.” I say his name but I can tell she has no idea who I'm talking about. Crap, what did he say his name was here? Cracker? Trapper? “Tracker.”

She nods. “One of the new guys. I don’t know them well, but they seem all right.” She smiles and continues organizing the stack of papers in front of her.

We work together for the rest of the day and when I look over at the clock I realize it’s time for me to leave. I pack away my things and shrug on my jacket, turning to see Jaz stacking the files neatly to one side. “Thanks for all your help today. I really appreciate it, and it was nice to have someone to talk to.”

I grab my purse and head out to my car. The air leaves my body when I see Ryder leaning against it.

I was so close to making it out unscathed.

So close.

“Can I help you?”

“You sure you want to ask that question?” He cocks an eyebrow and the all too familiar gesture stirs something inside me.

“What do you want?” I ask as my irritation with his games is growing. He left me, but now he wants to make nice and play games like nothing happened? Like he didn’t break my heart and throw away the pieces?

“You.” He pushes off the car, and comes toward me.

I freeze. What did he just say?

“Oh no. No way in hell are we going there.” I sidestep him, giving him the wide berth he deserves. I sift through my bag looking for my keys, pulling them out and dropping them not once but twice as I try to unlock the car so I can get the hell out of here.

“You say that now.”

“I’ll say it every damn time, Ryder.” I open my car door and get in, but when I try to close it, I meet resistance. I look up, seeing his fingers curled around the frame. He yanks it open further and holds it open with his hip. He drops his face until it’s only a few inches from mine.

“Look at me, right now. Tell me you don't fucking feel this and I'll walk away.”

I look him square in the face, mustering all the strength I have, which isn’t much, as I say, “I don’t feel it.”

Lie.

Lie.

Lie.

I shove him back and slam the door, seeing the dust in my rearview mirror as I peel out of the parking lot. The drive back home is a blur. All I can think of is Ryder, the way he looked at me, the way I feel whenever he is close to me. Every time I close my eyes I see his face.

I throw the door open and the handle hits the wall, leaving a nice round dent in the Gyprock. Chrissy looks up at me, wide-eyed. “Shit, what happened?”

I just shake my head heading right for the kitchen, taking down a glass and pouring myself a glass of wine. Chrissy follows but when a knock sounds at the door, she turns on her heel and I down half the glass in one go.

Though his face is distorted through the glass, I nearly choke when I see Ryder walk into the kitchen.

Ryder.

In my kitchen.

“What the hell are you—?”

He grabs the back of my neck and pulls me to him, his lips coming down on mine, taking me by surprise. As much as I want to fight him I don’t. The minute we touch, all of the nerves in my body calm and I relax into him like it’s where I was always supposed to be.

The sweet kiss quickly catches fire as his tongue slips into my mouth, my hands fisting in the T-shirt he’s wearing, clutching him tight, like he might disappear at any time.

When he pulls away, the two of us are panting like we just ran a mile. His fingers grip my chin, turning my head to the side. I feel his tongue touch the skin on the side of my mouth and my core tightens.

“That wine is almost as sweet as you, princess.” He smiles, before pressing his lips to mine again. “Almost.”

He lets go of me and my hands grab the counter, my fingers biting into the laminate while I wait for the feeling to return to my legs. In the distance, the front door slams closed and I let out the breath that’s been burning my lungs and drop my head back, eyes to the ceiling.

“I’m totally screwed.”

Chrissy laughs, and my eyes find hers across the kitchen. She’s leaning against the doorjamb, a smug look on her face. “If he has his way, you definitely will be.”

I shoot her a look before grabbing the bottle of wine and taking another large swig. Then another, my lips tingling with the absence of his.

Damn him.