15. Violet

15

Violet

T he emotional whiplash is real. I went from grinding against Ryan’s muscular body to arguing with him, to screaming at him outside of the bar, to giving up and letting him buy me snacks. The way he ran after me at the bar and demanded I go home with him frustrated me to no end.

I was having so much fun, and he ripped me away from the hot guy flirting with me. The other part of me appreciates that he cares about my safety, but my gut tells me it’s more. I fought him because I couldn’t have him thinking he could boss me around like that, but deep down, I liked it. The only protection I have ever had was in my best friend, Hartley, but lately, I haven’t needed him as much as I once did.

As I stumble up the stairs to my door, I find it hard to believe Ryan is behind me. This is far from how I pictured this night going, but the alcohol coursing through my veins tells me to just go with the flow. I don’t know what made me grab his hand. I feel this gravitational pull toward him—the kind that you can’t resist even when the whole world feels like it’s pulling you apart.

“Hartley doesn’t come home after he goes out?” he asks.

“No. It’s a Saturday night after a home win. He won’t be home until the morning at least.” I giggle because I know Hartley, and he’s reckless. “You don’t have to stay. I know it's the first home win and all. I wouldn’t want to bore you with wine and TV shows.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” Ryan replies, and if that doesn’t make me melt into a puddle right there in front of him. We head into the apartment, and Ryan darts to the kitchen, “You need to eat something. What do you want?”

“I’m good. I don’t think my stomach can handle much of anything at the moment.”

“Trust me, you’ll thank me in the morning. You need something with carbs or grease. Pick one, and I’ll whip it up.”

“Umm.. Ok.. There should be bread left on the counter and cheese in the fridge. What about grilled cheese?” I ask.

“Easy enough,” he replies. I show him where the pans are, and he commands the kitchen. His back muscles flex through his shirt as he flips the sandwich over to get the crisp just right. My face heats at the image of him taking control in other places besides the kitchen. Before long, he’s serving up the most delicious-looking grilled cheese on earth. The first bite elicits a soft moan and is actual heaven on a plate. I think I might die right here, right now. Cause of death: amazing grilled cheese.

“That good, huh?” he asks with a cocky grin painted on his face. Is this man good at everything?

“So good. I think you’re onto something with the food. My head feels less foggy already. Want to know a secret?” I ask, batting my eyes because something inside me is telling me to flirt my butt off.

“What kind of secret? Do I want to know?” Ryan chuckles, and before I can tell him, I jet off to Hartley’s unoccupied bedroom to score his “secret” wine stash.

“The party can continue!” I say, flashing the bottle of wine. Part of me wants this wine to mask my ruminating thoughts that take over at night.

“I think you need to pump the breaks on the alcohol before you’re vomiting all night,” he says with a hint of sincerity.

“Why? I’m having so much fun, though,” I whine.

“Ok, one glass, and then I’m cutting you off.” Reaching over to get the bottle out of my hand, his fingertips brush against mine. I watch as he opens the bottle and pours me half a glass.

I clear my throat. “What about you?” I gesture for him to take a glass.

He hesitates for a moment but nods and pours himself a glass, too.

After an hour, we’re laughing so hard we can hardly breathe. “Wait, so you actually climbed up to your bedroom window because you thought your mom didn’t know you went out?” I snort as I ask him the silliest question. This is the best night of my life. I listened to Ryan and slowed my roll with the alcohol after the bar, but buzzed Ryan is hilarious.

“Yep. She was watching me the entire time. By the time I got to my room, she was waiting on the bed with the goofiest smile on her face. She called me the biggest idiot in the world and gave me a huge hug.”

“She sounds awesome.” I sigh, brushing a rogue tear away from laughing so much. I stare into his intense eyes. “Thanks for bringing me home even though I put up a fight. Why weren’t you drinking?” I ask curiously.

“You don’t have to thank me. I don’t drink in public. Only when I’m at home or with someone I’m comfortable around.”

“You trust me?” I ask.

“Of course. I don’t know why, but I do,” he replies, and I’m shocked by his honesty. When I first met him, I was turned off by his blunt nature, but now, it doesn’t seem bad at all.

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” I let out a yawn. I can barely keep my eyes open, but I quickly remember to check the lock of the apartment door. Getting up slowly so I don’t face-plant, I click the lock back and forth three times to ensure it’s locked.

“What are you doing?” Ryan asks.

“Umm, nothing. Just couldn’t remember if we locked the door or not.” Playing it cool, not wanting to reveal too much of my real self just yet.

“Let’s get you to bed. You’re in for a massive hangover tomorrow,” he says. Before I can think about that sentence, he grabs my face with the most tender look in his eyes and kisses me on the floor of the main room. This kiss is different—he brushes my cheekbones as he takes his time moving slowly over my lips. He peppers my cheeks and forehead with small pecks, lifts me into his arms, and takes me to bed.

This time, I don’t want to fight it.

***

My eyes flutter open, and I immediately slam them closed. Who invented the sun? Because we need to have a serious talk. My head is killing me, and my hair is tangled against the pillow. I must have skipped brushing it before bed last night. Ugh, I hate myself so much.

I’m in my oversized pajama shirt and polka-dot flannel shorts. I don’t remember changing last night. Liza or Hartley must have helped me. I know I took way too many shots. My mouth is drier than the Sahara, ugh. I need water. I roll out of bed, and THUD! I nearly faceplant on the hardwood floor, falling directly on a man’s body.

Nice move, Violet. The man’s muffled voice comes from under my butt.

RYAN. OH MY GOD, RYAN STAYED THE NIGHT. Ok, remain calm, Violet. Why is he on the floor again?

“ Why are you on my bedroom floor?!” I shoot up and scream.

“Good morning to you too, Vi,” he answers softly as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. Why must men like Ryan look so handsome in the morning? I am fairly certain that I look like death on two feet.

“Answer the question. You’re not supposed to surprise attack me first thing in the morning.” I rub my temples, wishing he would quiet down a little.

“Surprise attack? Violet, I slept on the floor to respect you, but you told me you were more than ok with me sharing your bed.” He winks. He has the audacity to wink right now. Who am I kidding? That man can bring me to my knees, but I’m still in fierce interrogation mode.

“You kissed me,” I blurt out. Dang, Violet, you could have blamed it on the wine.

“I did, and before you ask, I don’t regret it—not even a little bit,” he answers with the cutest smile I have ever seen in my life planted on his stupidly hot face. He has dimples for days. Why haven’t I noticed that before?

“You don’t? We drank a lot. We can forget this night ever happened and blame it on the alcohol.”

“Is that what you want?” he asks with sincerity in his eyes.

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully.

“I don’t either,” he says. “You have no idea how hard it is for me to stay away from you.”

“Why are you telling me this? I swear, Ryan, if this is some joke that you are going to take back in a few minutes, please save it. I overthink a lot, and this is no exception. Be real with me. The back and forth is killing me.”

“I would be lying if I told you I know exactly what this is between us, but I want to spend more time with you to find out. I’ve never been in a relationship, and I don’t know if I even want one. This is new territory,” he answers with no hesitation. I can appreciate how transparent he’s being.

“I don’t know what I want either. I need to focus on school. Without school, I don’t have a future. I can’t let a man get in the way of that. Plus, I’m super hungover and still need to piece together what happened last night.”

I’m giving him an easy out. Isn’t that what guys want? To blame impulsive decisions on alcohol? This should make him leave and forget this ever happened.

“I want you in whatever way I can have you. I have film practice in about an hour, but I’ll be back when we’re dismissed.”

I’m left speechless in my bedroom as the tall, tattooed running back walks out my door. Trying not to put too much thought into Ryan, I proceed with my favorite day of the week. Sundays are my relaxation days. I don’t get out of my pajamas unless there is a very good reason.

My hair is thrown up in a messy bun, and I have my fluffy purple blanket on the couch with me. I’m stirring over last night’s drunken events, along with Ryan’s message to me on his way out the door. Could last night really change things between us? He’s so hot and cold, and I can’t afford to have distractions in my life. I don’t have anyone to fall back on.

Hartley still hasn’t graced me with his presence before his film practice. He parties hard and gets away with more than he should. My mind goes in circles like a fast-paced carnival ride. I have that gut-wrenching sensation right before you go down the biggest turn. A loud knock at the door shocks me from my thoughts. Ugh. I bet Hartley forgot his keys. I get up slowly to open the door, and I’m greeted by a grinning Ryan.

“I thought you were Hartley,” I say as I physically feel my feet cement to the floor.

“Babe, I never will be. Lucky for you, I’m better.”

“Excuse me?!” I answer his self-assured remark, and I can feel my face flushing. I suddenly realize what I’m wearing.

“I’m in my pajamas, so you can wait on the couch until I change.”

“Why would you change?” he asks sincerely, as if I’m not standing in front of his wall of sweaty muscles looking like an absolute troll.

“Because I look like death.”

“Don’t change.”

“I’m changing.”

“Don’t.”

“Give me three good reasons, and I won’t.”

“Easy. Number one, you look incredible, and those shorts let me see your legs. I might die if you cover them up. Number two, I want you to be real around me. Number three, however long you take to change is going to take time with you away from me.”

Well, I can’t really argue with that. He’s got a way with words, and I’m folding easier than I thought.

We silently walk to the couch. He wraps his arms around me, and I let him. He puts on a show that I don’t have to use any brain power to watch. My cheek is nuzzled into his warm body. I can feel his chest moving up and down with each breath. This feels right. Breaking the silence, he says, “Tell me something.”

I answer, “Ok. What do you want to know?”

“How did you end up at Springs U with Hartley? He’s a year older than you.”

I stay silent for a few seconds before responding to him. I’m deciding whether I can trust him or not. Should I let him see through the lens of my past, or should I give him the answer I give everyone else? I decide to step out of my comfort zone and give him the real reason I’m here.

“My grandpa passed away the summer before my junior year of high school.”

He’s rubbing circles around my cold arm, assuring me I can keep going. Keeping my apartment like the frigid arctic is my preference.

“It was just the two of us. He raised me the best he could. Hartley lived two streets over, and our grandparents were friends. We spent every day together. When Hartley’s grandparents died, his dad moved in and took custody of him. He’s an alcoholic. It was a really bad situation, so my grandpa let Hartley stay with us a lot. We got really close, and he eventually became a big brother to me.”

Hartley is more than willing to share his back story, but you have to ask. I look up to my human pillow giving him permission to answer.

“What was he like?” Ryan asks.

“You would have loved him. He was obsessed with football. He taught me every rule of the game. We would watch football or highlights every night before bed. He played in college and coached a few years after that. He quit when he took me on. I never asked him much more about that. I didn’t want to know what my parents were like. He’s the only parent I ever had. He was everything to me, and when I lost him, I lost a part of myself with him,” I say softly. My heart beats out of my chest, and my eyes well up with tears.

“He sounds great. Please tell me he fussed at Hartley during his Little League games. I would have paid to see that,” he playfully chuckles and pulls me in tighter.

I laugh, “Oh yeah, it was hilarious! He would argue with Hartley over plays, and they both wanted to have the last word.”

“Where did you go when he passed away?” Ryan asks with concern laced in his voice.

“That’s when I felt the most lost I have ever been. I had no family who wanted me, so Hartley stepped in and moved me in with him. His dad had disappeared across the country, and he was living on his own. His dad deposited money each month in his bank account. I’m sure it was his way of taking care of him without actually having to be a present father. My great aunt, who lived hours away, signed my custody papers and helped me with money, but let me live wherever I wanted. She saw it as a relief.”

“How was living on your own in high school? That seems really hard.” Ryan is still rubbing my arm, and I may faint if he stops. It’s the only thing keeping me grounded.

“It was hard, but we took care of each other. It always felt like it was us against the world. When he got a full ride to Springs U, he promised to get us a permanent place that I could share with him. We used our extra scholarship money to pay rent for the entire year up front.”

“You’re really strong, you know that, right?” he asks.

I turn to face him, and he’s staring at me with so much intensity that the room narrows. He’s gotten me to open up to him about things that live only in my mind. After what I just told him, he should think I’m weak and pathetic for relying on Hartley’s help so much. Instead, he thinks I’m strong.

“What changed?” I ask.

“What do you mean?” he answers.

“With me. I thought you hated me, or at least you were indifferent towards me,” I admit honestly. Part of my anxious thoughts is compulsively needing to know where I stand. I shut out most friendships and relationships because I can’t take the uncertainty.

“I don’t know. I tried to stay away because I wanted to respect Hartley, but you have a pull that I can’t explain,” he says.

“Is this a game?” Get it together. Don’t show him this side of you.

“No,” he says with a clipped tone, “I won’t lie and say I know exactly what I’m doing here, but I don’t play games.”

“Ok,” I say.

“My mom’s sick,” he blurts out. Seeing storms in his lost eyes squeezes my heart. This feels like something that not many people know, and I want him to feel as safe as he made me feel.

He continues, “She has ALS. It doesn’t get better. Today is the best it’ll ever get. She’s on a steep decline, and I’m all she has.” I grab his hand that isn’t curled around me. They are rough and calloused but so warm. I climb onto his lap so that we are face to face. I need him to feel my presence. Words aren’t enough right now. His hands drift to my waist, then to my thighs. He gently rubs the skin just below the hem of my pajama shorts.

“Nothing in my life has ever felt permanent. I don’t take risks.”

“I get it,” I whisper as I assure him with my eyes to keep going.

“The day I got her diagnosis, something died inside of me. I don’t ever think I’ll get it back,” His eyes pierce through my heart, looking for something to hold on to. There’s so much more to Ryan than I realized. He holds it all in. It’s easier for him to push people away than to let them see the real him.

“It’s ok to let me in,” I assure him. I could tell him how it’ll be ok. I can tell him how everything is going to work out, but it’s not. He needs to know that he can trust me and let me into his darkness. I lean into him for a gentle kiss. This one is different from the other kisses we’ve shared. It’s not rough, desperate, or fueled by alcohol. My arms stay hooked around his neck while his arms are firmly placed on my thighs. I grant him access to my mouth and take in the woodsy scent I love so much. My body fits in his lap perfectly. The way he envelopes me oozes comfort. We don’t stay in the kiss for long, not tonight. He places me back on his chest. His strong heartbeat against my ears puts me in a deep sleep.