He shifts his head away. “I don’t want to kiss you,” he says straight-faced.
Inching forward, my lips only mere millimeters away. “Are you sure?” I ask, pushing my chest against him, enticing him. His chest rises and falls in rapid breaths.
“Yes.” He gulps deeply, and I giggle at his attempt to be so disregarding to my advances.
I move my mouth closer to his ear and whisper, “So, you’re telling me if I pressed my lips to yours right now, you wouldn’t reciprocate?”
“That’s right. I’m telling you, Chrissy,” he argues, and sick of the back and forth bullshit, I place my hands on either side of his face and smash my lips to his.
He keeps them tight for a few seconds, almost sucking his lips into his mouth. But the harder I press, the more his restraint diminishes. Without any indication he’s about to relent, I sit back and bite my lip. Our eyes focus on each other for a few seconds until he grabs my face, bringing it toward him, allowing our lips to collide. He positions me exactly where he wants me and claims my whole mouth with his. Inserting his tongue, I match the speed, darting so fast, it’s as if we’re unable to wait for one another. Pressing into him further, the desperate necessity to feel him, to affirm the excitement I may be evoking from him. He grabs my ass, squeezing and molding it with his hands.
His hand travels up my spine. Shivers rising with every inch until his fingers splay in my hair and then he abruptly tears my face away from his. He stands up, and I fall hard onto the rock. My ass is sure to be bruised. Pacing, his hands fly through his short hair and back down. Shaking his head from side to side, never even acknowledging my presence.
“Dex,” I sigh, exasperated with his ridiculous reasons we can’t be together.
Stopping, he crouches down. “Chrissy, what would you do if we don’t make it? Because, in order to still have one another in our lives, we have to make it all the way. No half-way. It’s either we win the Super Bowl or never get drafted.”
“Why are you worried about that?” I ask him, inching forward and placing my hand on his propped up knee.
“I don’t want to live without you in my life anymore. I’ve missed you the past years and I need you as much as air or food. I could fuck it all up in a matter of minutes.”
“Dex, stop worrying and enjoy this,” I coax, but he stands, shaking his head and continuing to pace back and forth.
“No, Chrissy. It can’t happen.” His feet stop, and he glares down at me. “It won’t happen,” he insists, his harsh tone pulling me back.
Crossing my legs, I place my head in my hands, shaking it back and forth. “I don’t understand, Dex. You just practically devoured me. You can’t deny the chemistry between us.” I’m a fool for ever believing he’d see me as someone for his future.
Crouching down, he grabs my hands from my face. “Because, you have no one but me in your life. I’m your family, and, in order to always remain that, we can’t be involved—” My heart sinks into the deepest part of my stomach with the knowledge that he’s drawn that line with a permanent marker.
“But.”
“EVER, Chrissy,” he finishes, with finality to the topic and it is no longer up for discussion.
“Why can’t you just love me? Stop worrying about saving me or protecting me! Just fucking love me, God damn it,” I scream, rising to my feet.
“Why don’t you get it? I’m doing this because I love you.” His head lifts, soft eyes focusing on mine. “I’m giving up my own happiness for yours. Why don’t you understand that?” His shoulders fall, and he turns around staring out into the horizon.
“No one asked you too, Dex. Stop thinking you know what’s best for me,” I whisper, but he never turns around.
Knowing it’s the end of the discussion, I begin walking back to the truck. With families already packing up their cars as dusk falls, I stand by the truck, waiting for Dex. A few minutes go by, and I catch a glimpse of him weaving through kids crying and parents’ slumped shoulders, his hat pushed down over his eyes and his hands in his pockets.
We don’t speak as he opens my door, continuing to be a gentleman. Silence carries over to the drive home, and when he pulls into the driveway, I’m thankful all the lights are turned off. He hasn’t fully stopped when I shuffle out of the truck, through the back door and up the stairs.
Locking myself in the bathroom, I strip off my clothes and sit down in the shower. Bringing my knees up to my chest, I bury my head against my legs and cry for everything I’ll never have.
A MONTH HAS passed since I climbed out of Dex’s truck, shattered and broken. The lingering doubt that I’m not good enough is confirmed in not just his words but his actions as well. He’s gone more than he’s here lately, and every time I do see him, he displays the forced smile or tries tossing a joke out to diffuse the tension. He’s yet to figure out that by pushing me away, our friendship has suffered a devastating blow and is already fading down to roommates that will gradually dwindle to acquaintances.
With Rob having fixed my car, at least I have transportation and am no longer indebted to anyone for rides. Sadie and Brady are more than welcoming, insisting I stay until I’ve saved enough. Brady jokes that Sadie would throw herself in front of the door, but, with their wedding coming up, I need to start considering finding a place of my own.
When I walk into the gallery, Ryland is behind my desk, a conspicuous grin plastered on his face. “You caught me,” he says, standing up and walking along the side.
“Caught you?” I tilt my head in confusion.
“Listen, I have to go to Akron. Remember when I said I was considering opening another gallery?” I nod. “My realtor just called with an amazing deal on a space.” He has a realtor?
“Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.” I walk behind my desk, depositing my purse in the drawer and sliding forward, resting my elbows on my desk. Ryland stands there, leaning over, his dimples in pure sight. “What are you so happy about?” I ask, and he laughs.
“Nothing. I guess I’m just excited for new possibilities,” he comments, with his back to me while withdrawing to his office.
I boot up my computer and venture into the kitchen to start the coffee. But, I’m surprised to find it already brewing. “Ryland, you actually started the coffee maker?” I holler out the door, and he chuckles.
“I am self-sufficient, you know?” he jokes, appearing in the doorway. Leaning against the counter, I place my palms on the edge, and Ryland’s eyes rake my body before coming back to my eyes. I’ve caught him staring at my ass when I’m bent over a few times, or when I lean forward, his eyes dart back from peeking down my blouse. It’s always been a compliment to me, made me feel confident in my looks. I enjoyed the glances here or there. That’s where it stayed, though, and I like it there. Tucked away in a box. I mean, I can’t say I don’t admire his looks from time to time too, but Dex is the one who fills my dreams. A sadness flickers inside of me with the realization that I must love Dex a lot more then he does me, because I’d never be able to push him away like he is me.
This time, my breathing ups a few notches and my heart beats a tinge faster with his eyes on me. A churning excitement or anticipation of his next move brings the arrival of flutters in my stomach. “I’ll be back in a bit. Maybe pick us up some lunch.” The one corner of his lip turns up, and then he’s gone, and I’m stuck gripping the counter so hard my palm aches from the edge digging into my skin.
“All right,” I choke out, before I bury my head in my hands. Shaking it back and forth, embarrassment at my actions overtakes my mind. Could you imagine the women he must go for … definitely not a broke twenty-something with no education or family.
Waiting for the coffee to finish, I pull my mug from the sink rack and set it on the counter to be filled with the caffeine I’ve become addicted to in only months. A packet of Splenda and a spoon rests next to the pot. Did Ryland place that there for me? He probably was going to do it for himself, but then it dawns on me he takes his black. I smile at the sweet gesture.