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He’s a puzzle and I like a challenge. The need to figure him out is just as necessary, just as real, as my need to breathe air. Each exposure to him rewires my brain a bit more, for better or for worse.
Dacen’s stupid planner is going to be the death of me. I will have died, and on my tombstone, it will read: R.I.P. This sucker was bested by a brightly colored spiral-bound planner with color-coordinated tabs and an obscene amount of extremely neat and sparkly handwritten notes and lists inside. He never stood a chance.
About an hour later we’re standing in the gym, loud music pumping from speakers around us. Trisley and Noah are rating everyone’s outfits on a scale from what were they thinking to omg I need that. Their words, not mine.
Ryne and Roman always look like they’ve just sucked on a lemon, so nothing new there. I wonder why Tyler looks annoyed. He’s usually so chill.” She tilts her head to the side. “I sure wouldn’t mind being the reason he looks so jealous right now. Maybe I am, who knows, he keeps glancing over here.” She assesses him a moment longer. “I wonder what his problem is.” Evie shrugs. “Maybe it’s a solidarity brood. You know, an 'all for brooding and brooding for all' kind of thing.”
Evie’s been frustrated and disgusted on my behalf, right along with me, and I love her for it. “He does look really hot though, even if he is on my last nerve this evening. He’s kinda like a living, breathing, hotter version of Oscar the Grouch.” Noah chokes on his sip of water. “Hotter? As in Oscar the Grouch has achieved some level of hotness?”
“It’s not against the law to tell me I look like my dad, Dacen.” His eyes still scream with the unshed pain he carries, but he’s forced the rest of his expression into more neutral territory. You can’t control the eyes though. There’s a reason they say the eyes are the window to the soul. Those two fuckers are always hopped up on truth serum. Unless you’re some kind of a psychotic bastard, the eyes will always show your truth.
Thick skin? Or defensive shields? I suspect it’s the latter, and that his shields are full of cracks he’s not even aware of. I wish he’d let me slip through one of them and work my way inside. I study his profile and think back to the fire pit, and the stuff he shared with me that night. Maybe I’ve worked at least a foot through one of his shields. But will he ever let me the rest of the way in? I’d sure as hell rather be invited in than have to sneak my way in like some stealthy love ninja. The thought of a little miniature version of me dressed in all black head to toe and weaseling my way
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Ryne’s kissing skills are worthy of medals. Trophies. Songs written in their honor. It. Was. Amazing. But now he stands there looking completely unaffected as if none of it even happened.
Ryne leans in and brushes his lips over mine, just barely making contact. When he speaks, every word singes my lips and shoots fireworks off inside me. “I’m going to own this mouth again one of these days soon, Dacen.”
He drops my chin and steps back just as his friends round the corner. Our eyes stay locked until he turns around. There are silent promises made in those few seconds, dirty ones based on the gleam in his eye and the smile on my lips. Forget scorched. The flames from the blazing inferno that is Ryne Sutton engulf me completely.
His fingers slip beneath my t-shirt and his warm palm slides around to my lower back. As he gently strokes, my eyelids get heavy and I blink a few times, feeling a little lust drunk. I dip my free hand under his shirt too and let it wander around his stomach and over the ridges of his abs. Freaking Heaven on Earth. I’d like to take up residence in one of the valleys between the ridges. Just pop a squat and live there forever among all that hotness.
“If you don’t back up right now,” my words are a whispered growl, “I’m gonna drag your ass into the bed of my truck and make you come so fucking hard the people on the other side of the lake will feel the aftershock.”
Um... Yes please
Just physical. That’s all I do. But especially because that’s all there can ever be between someone like me and someone like Dacen Becker. He’s too bright and pure for someone like me. Not in the sexual sense, because he’s definitely got a wicked streak a mile long, but I’ve got no capacity for emotional shit and he’s someone who needs that. Of course, that won’t stop me from enjoying his body for a while, because I’m apparently a selfish bastard.
“Dude, I may drive a Ford, but I recognize a dodge when I see one. Answer my question.”
On the short walk to our lockers, my fingers itch to reach over and intertwine with Ryne’s. It’s pretty much a guarantee following through would freak him the hell out. He’s good with flirting but I get the sense actual displays of real emotion in public, even something as benign as holding hands, would send him running for the hills. Besides, we’ve not defined what this thing is between us if anything. Maybe messing around twice is the extent of it. A twinge of anxiety ripples through me. I don’t want to be some temporary and disposable plaything, and I also don’t want to be some kind of
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I feel a little twinge of sympathy for Evan because he didn’t even say anything. Ryne’s extra grouchy now and his friends are getting the brunt of it. I refuse to feel guilty though. It’s not my fault Ryne has the emotional intelligence of a rock.
TYLER: Glad to see u here. I smile lightly and text him back. ME: Thanks. TYLER: Why’s moody boy so grouchy? Is the stick up his ass extra sharp today or what?
He waves his hand in the air, dismissing my comment. “I’m going to need to see you decked out all extra-Southern in your hunting gear one of these days.” He closes his eyes and stands there silently. “What are you doing now?” “Shh.” He reaches over and pinches my lips shut. “I’m imagining it. Don’t ruin my hot hunter fantasy by speaking.”
After the two movies were over while everyone else was busy chatting and folding their blankets, Ryne stepped over to me and whispered in my ear. My heart still races when I think about it. By the way, D, I like you best with no clothes on, but seeing you in my shirt makes me wanna do naughty things.
Trying to understand Ryne is like trying to navigate a complex labyrinth while blindfolded. Sometimes you’re lucky and manage to fumble your way around the correct corner. Only unbeknownst to you, a cunning warlock has surreptitiously shifted the walls, and once again you’re headed in the wrong direction. It’s not even a ‘one step forward, two steps back' kind of thing with him. It’s more like a ‘one step forward, two leaps into another dimension—oh and watch out for that black hole’ kind of thing.
His ever-changing emotions give me whiplash, but now that he’s on board with the physical stuff it’s like all bets are off. Full steam ahead. The beast has awoken and he’s hungry. Very, very hungry.
“I’d give up tacos for a year just to feel your mouth take me in right now.” “Now who’s got jokes?” “I’m completely and utterly serious.” My love of tacos is vast, but my love of what he said is cosmic. There is no comparison. “And so close to coming.”
“The best night ever will come when I can get my mouth on your dick again. I have plans for that dick, Dacen.” The squeezing feeling goes away, quickly replaced by butterflies again. “Really? That would be your best night ever?” “Uh, yeah. Fuck yeah. No hypothetical answers here. At least until something else we do tops it.”
“You never mentioned you get panic attacks.” A sarcastic laugh bubbles up from my chest. Because that’s the kind of thing I just love to bring up in conversation with people, particularly the guy I’m attracted to. Sure, let me unload that stellar detail on him so the small part of his brain that acknowledges me turns to pity. I was trying to avoid it at all costs.
“I’m not trying to hurt him, Evie.” “I believe you, but the choices you make affect more than just yourself.” “I am very much aware of that.” My jaw tightens. “Okay. So you’re a smart guy. Make better choices. At least when it comes to Dacen.” She hops down and starts to walk away but turns back around. “And Ryne?” I raise an eyebrow and wait for her to speak. “You’re a good person, too. You deserve to be happy. You both do.”
I thought I’d take Christopher although I hadn’t gotten around to actually asking him. But things changed, and then we moved. Now my cousins are all gonna rag on me when I show up sans date because they’re immature like that. Some of them anyway.” Dacen frowns and chews the side of his lip. “I guess I could call Christopher. I’m sure he’d be up for a visit, and I could still invite him.” Oh. Fuck. No. You won’t.
Dacen gives his mom a hug and I wave to her. “It smells good in here, Mom. Did you bake those?” Dacen gestures toward the cookies. His mom’s eyebrows furrow. “Yes, sweetie. Did you think the magic cookie elves summoned them onto the counter or something?”
Much as I might wish it, I’m not a robot and some emotion slipped through the cracks and snuck its way inside me. And it sucks. Emotions suck. They truly, truly suck. They’re all kinds of tricky. They do what they want, when they want, and don’t listen to reason. When you stop and think about it, we’re basically all being controlled by a bunch of toddlers. Who needs that? And when they’re conspiring with the heart? It becomes a cluster of misunderstandings and unmet expectations.
It’s called a fuck buddy.” I feel like puking a little bit as soon as those words leave my mouth. He scoffs and shakes his head. “Don’t insult him by calling him that. You and I both know that’s not what he is.” “You don’t know shit, Ty.” “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” He looks over my shoulder and his eyes widen. I turn around just as the locker room door slams closed. My heart dive-bombs into my stomach. “Was that Dacen?” My voice is hoarse. I close my eyes and grit my teeth when Tyler answers. “I think so.” God damn it.
Things have gotten weird between us ever since I asked him if we went on a date. It must have really freaked him out, I don’t know, because shortly afterward I overheard his conversation with Tyler, downgrading me to fuck buddy status. I mean, seriously? A fuck buddy? I know he’s got some weird issue with dating but to call me just a fuck buddy? It was harsh.
times or different ways I ask. It’s frustrating. His constant refusal to acknowledge that we’re dating and have been for a while now is also frustrating. I don’t get it. I can’t decide if he’s that dense or he truly doesn’t want it and doesn’t see things like that between us. I don’t know anymore. Maybe I really am an idiot, and this is all one-sided, namely Dacen-sided.
“Did you need something, Ryne?” His eyes shut and he sighs. It physically pains me to see him upset, but I’m running out of patience. He opens his eyes again and clears his throat. “Are you busy? I thought we could, I don’t know, go drive around or something?” I stare at him, unblinking. “Why?” “Dacen, please.” The constant push and pull is exhausting. But this is Ryne. And I—Nope. Not going down that train of thought right now. My shoulders sag forward. “Okay.”
“What happened during those last two days of camp, Ryne? Why did you do a complete one-eighty on me? And why don’t you date? Is it just me specifically you don’t want to date?” He swallows hard and closes his eyes. When he opens them and trains them on me, they’re curious but also upset and a little angry. “It felt like things were headed that direction for us, at camp I mean. I know we were running out of time, I get that, but I really thought we were on the same page.”
“You’re telling me you treated me like shit because of this? Because of a lying douche canoe? Jesus Christ, Ryne. I had a freaking panic attack during our scrimmage the last day and had to dip out because I was so upset.”
“And this is why you acted like a complete dickhead to me once I moved here, from the first moment we saw each other at tryouts and for the longest time after? Because I supposedly stood you up on some date I didn’t even know about? You didn’t think to, oh I don’t know, ask me about it that night at camp? Or at any moment thereafter? You just had to go all silent treatment on me. Well, after telling me to fuck off, that is.” I open my mouth to respond but he cuts me off. “There’s this thing called communication. You should try it sometime.”
She’d abandoned us, not one word for almost a decade, and suddenly she misses us and wants to make things right? Nah, bitch. Jump off a cliff and die for all I care. You don’t abandon your two young kids and then suddenly show up here to try to repair the damage. I don’t buy that.
He somehow stole a piece of my heart with that first scowl. And he’s stolen the rest of it in bits since then. The problem though when someone steals your heart is when they inevitably get buyer’s remorse—or would it be thief’s remorse?—and try to return it, it doesn’t fit back into place the same way. It’s different. When your heart gets stolen right from under your nose, it permanently changes. It shifts and transforms. It’s not in the same condition anymore when it gets shoved back at you.
I made the mistake of asking if we’d gone on a date and things have gone to hell in a handbasket since then. But what’s wrong with asking the question? What’s wrong with wanting a little acknowledgment of this thing between us? Of wanting to put a label on it? What’s wrong with wanting to hold his hand in public or kiss him at school when other people are around? What’s wrong with wanting to call him mine, and wanting to be his? What’s he so afraid of? What’s holding him back? The only thing I can think of, the only conclusion I can come to, is he just doesn’t want it. He really doesn’t feel
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Assumptions really do make an ass out of the person doing the assuming. And I know he’s probably going to go to school in New York, but I don’t care. This thing with Paige shook me and made me realize I need to tell him how I really feel. I might fucking explode if I don’t get it out in the open soon.
Dacen comes into view as I near our lockers and my nerves flare awake and shoot a thrill through my stomach. Then irritation spikes when I’m a few feet away and notice the person standing next to him is Jeremy. And my irritation flies off the charts into pure rage when Jeremy puts an arm around Dacen, and they kiss. “What the fuck.”
“Ryne, stop. Hold on a minute.” He grabs my arm more forcefully and whips me around. His face blanches and he holds his hands up in front of him in a halting motion. “Just wait a minute.” “Is this some sort of twisted payback for all the dumb shit I’ve done, Dacen? Because that’s fucked up. This whole thing is fucked up. I’m done.”
I won’t touch him again. I don’t need him; I don't want him. Liar. Shut the hell up. My unhelpful thoughts can join my heart in the bowels of hell for all I care. Listening to them is what got me into this mess in the first place.
“I have never given you one reason not to trust me. Not one, Ryne. Yet you’ve believed other people over me twice now. First, you did it with Bryce at camp, which you didn’t even have the decency to talk to me about and give me a chance to explain. You left me completely in the dark. And now you’re doing the same damn thing with Jeremy.” He shakes his head and tugs on his hair.
I have been nothing but honest with you from the beginning. I’ve been myself this entire time, including all the weird shit that comes along with being me, and…” He pauses like he can’t find the words. “I just…” He throws his arms up. “I don’t know what else I can do, what else I can say. All I know how to do is be me. And if that’s not enough for you—” He chokes up and blinks rapidly. “Then that’s a you-problem, Ryne. Not a me-problem. If you can’t or don’t trust me, that’s on you. I didn’t kiss Jeremy, didn’t kiss him back, whatever. And deep down you know that.”
I clench my jaw and squeeze my fists. “Whatever, dude. I’m done with this shit. This right here,” I gesture between the two of us. “It’s nothing. Was nothing. Is nothing. Will never be anything. I should actually thank you.” I laugh hollowly. “You’ve reminded me why exactly I only do casual.”
“Whatever. It just means it’s time to move on to the next person in line. For both of us.”
Dacen’s face contorts as if he’s in actual pain; his eyes squeeze shut, he sucks in the hollows of his cheeks, and he gulps audibly. Then his eyes open and white-hot anger flashes in them, stoked brighter by hurt and laced with frustration. His nostrils flare and his jaw sets so sharp it could cut glass. The physical manifestation of his anger is severe and cuts through to my core.
“You know what, Ryne? Here’s one more truth for you, consider it a bonus for funsies. You’re acting like a coward. Things get to feeling a little too real and suddenly you’re looking for any excuse to run. I didn’t kiss Jeremy and you. Damn well. Know it.”
“Even if we’re supposedly ‘not dating,’ I would never do that to you, or anyone else for that matter. Give me a little credit.”
“I think you’re just scared, Ryne,” Dacen whispers, rubbing his thumb along my jaw. “Putting your,” he swallows hard. “Putting your heart in someone else’s hands is a scary thing. They can choose to hold it close and cherish it, or rip it apart and walk away, leaving you with a shredded mess and no hope of piecing it back together unchanged. Scary shit,” he laughs shakily.
