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My mind is reeling and the selfish part of me presses my lips against his, relishing the taste of him one last time. My heart dips low, hanging precariously by a thread. And then I gently push Dacen away and take a step back. Our eyes meet and he must see the stubborn determination in mine because his shoulders slump and his face falls.
An empty feeling washes over me, and the chill of loneliness settles deep inside my bones. Jagged tendrils of regret and uncertainty snake through my insides, squeezing around that vice and making it even tighter.
His eyes are closed when he raises his head again but that doesn’t hide the tear that slips down his cheek. I can’t fucking breathe. “Goodbye, Ryne.” Half of my heart crashes to the floor and shatters as the other half of it walks away from me. “D, wait—” He either doesn’t hear my low plea or he simply ignores it. I slump back against the wall and slide down to the floor. What the hell have I done?
I’m done. We’re done. It’s over. Finito. No more. Only it hasn’t sunken in yet, no matter how many different ways I say it. Not fully.
The other part of me walks around flayed wide open, heart and soul exposed. All that’s left are charred and burnt edges from the raging firestorm that swept through. And each thought of him—because what happened plays through my mind on repeat—pours a little salt on my raw, unprotected nerves. The protective sheath is gone, totally destroyed. He drew me in with his sexy face and wicked smirks. And he warned me, way back on that picnic table, he told me what would happen; he’d eat me alive. And that’s ultimately exactly what happened.
I hate him but I miss him so much. No, that’s not true. I don’t hate him, and that’s the problem. I love Ryne. And that figures. Of course I fall in love with one of the most emotionally closed guys I’ve ever met.
“This has to get easier, right? Like, I can’t feel this way forever? That would be the equivalent of getting a cosmic middle finger and that’s just rude.”
Shocking as it is because he’s Mr. Aloof, the two of you make sense. Nobody who’s seen you within five hundred feet of each other would disagree. You’re drawn to each other.” He holds his hands shoulder-width apart and brings them together quickly, smacking them together when they meet. “Like magnets.” Evie grimaces and begrudgingly nods. “He’s right, Dacen. He helps you chill, and you make him less robot and more human.” Then she looks at Noah. “But that doesn’t excuse his awful and confusing behavior toward Dacen.”
“He looks miserable, Dacen. He usually glares or is all stoic looking. I couldn’t tell ya the last time Ryne let his shields down at school and showed emotion like that on his face. You mean something to him.”
That’s all well and true, but if he isn’t going to open up more and let me in—and freaking trust me—and get over his stupid hang-up with dating, I don’t see what other option there is but for us to stay apart.
He's an idiot who straight up needs a kick in the ass...
“Yeah, and it’s absolutely what I want to do. I don’t see myself changing my mind. I want to try to get a job this summer at Knoxton Event Center or someplace like that. I think it would be a good experience.”
I peek over my shoulder at Ryne’s table and immediately lock eyes with him. Because of that damn pull. It’s as strong as ever. His expression mirrors mine: frustrated, sad, and lonely. Noah’s right, miserable sums it up pretty well.
Tyler stands up. “Okay, enough. We’re not sitting around here arguing and moping all night. Pack the shit up. It’s Friday, there’s a party tonight at the lake, and we’re going.”
Jeremy shoves past us and saunters over to them. He definitely smells like alcohol. Him plus alcohol seems like a bad idea.
have no say in what shit’s okay or not. Dacen doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore, I certainly made sure of that. And I should have known better anyway. The writing’s been on the wall ever since, hell, ever since camp.
Evan speaks up. “Then erase it.” “What?” “Don’t give us that ‘writing on the wall’ bullshit, Ryne. Change it. Rewrite it. Own your shit, man. Ya done fucked up but if you care about him—and you do—then fight for him, instead of standing here stewing like a miserable bastard.”
I sigh and drag my hands down my face. “Shit a brick.” “I’d rather not,” a voice responds from about two feet away. I whip my head up and Dacen appears at my side a second later. “That sounds wicked painful.” “Dacen.” “Ryne.” My eyes drink him up like I’ve been walking through the desert for two weeks and he’s the last glass of water on the planet.
“Do you think maybe we can, I don’t know, hang out sometime or something?” Dacen’s smirk drops off and he kind of sags back against the Jeep beside me. “I can’t, Ryne. I can’t just be your friend. I can’t sit there while you’re all ‘hey, dude, bruh, how’s it hanging?’ and watch you eventually date someone else. Oh, my bad, not date. Just ‘mess around with.’”
His eyebrows pinch together, and he glares at me stonily. “Don’t stand there and try to smooth things over with your cute face, Ryne. Rare and hot as your smiles are, they aren’t the antidote to this shit fest.”
“Dacen,” I repeat with emphasis. “I know I made some mistakes—” “Yeah,” he bites out. “Ya did.” My lips purse and hot blood courses through my veins. “Would you listen, give me a chance to explain.” “Oh, like you gave me that chance at camp? And with Jeremy? Nah.” He jerks his head back and forth tightly.
“I think you still don’t know what you want, Ryne. Or rather, you do but you’re not being honest with yourself about some of it and you won’t open up to me. I’m not gonna be yanked around while you try to figure it out. It’s too hard and it hurts too damn much.”
“You have to let people in, bud. It seems like you started to with Dacen, and then you got in your own way, tripped yourself up. You’re quick to assume the worst in certain types of situations. But to be overly frank, not everyone you let yourself care about is going to die or leave. Sometimes you have to give people the benefit of the doubt and take a chance. Now you have to ask yourself, what do you really want?” “Dacen.” The answer is fast off my lips as soon as he finishes the question. Nathan pats me on the shoulder. “Then you need to apologize from your heart, tell him how you feel. You
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I’ve got my work cut out for me and I need to call for reinforcements. Of course, some of those reinforcements will also take some convincing which means putting myself out there, but Dacen’s worth it.
I pick up the final photo. My breath catches in my throat. It’s a recent picture of Ryne at the lake. He’s lounging in a chair staring off at something and there’s a small smile on his face. Even with the grainy quality of the photo, I can tell he’s entertained by what he sees. He looks genuinely happy.
I glance at him. “What was he looking at?” His eyebrows raise and he smirks at me. “Not what. Who.”
“I’m not saying he’s not a difficult asshole, Dacen, but he’s different since, well, since you. He smiles more, real smiles. He’s one of my best friends, and though I’ll probably never admit this out loud again in my life because he’d kick my ass, it’s been hard watching him over the years. There’s always, I don’t know, a heavy weight dragging him down. He’s been through some rough shit. But since you showed up here?” He shrugs. “It’s like he can breathe again or something. Anyway, you can keep the photos.”
Speech and psychology class are much the same. The same but different. Ryne shares more about himself. I’m confused. Intrigued. Interested. It’s like I have a live stream of Ryne’s thoughts playing out for me. He’s sharing all this randomness and I love it.
“I kinda wanna kiss you right now.” My face slowly breaks into a grin as the memory of the last time he’d said that plays through my head. It hadn’t ended the way I’d have preferred back then, but it still makes me smile. “Only kinda?” Ryne brushes his fingers over my cheek. “I definitely do.” “You probably should then.” His eyes, deep blue and full of hope, hold mine captive as he wraps his palm around the nape of my neck and draws me closer. All my insides sigh with relief when his lips find mine, and then he kisses me deeply like he’s trying to physically imprint all of his words and
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It doesn’t hit me until I’m listening to announcements in homeroom that Ryne kissed me in public, in full view of every student around. You couldn’t wipe the smile off my face right now if you tried.
By the end of the day, I’m all worked up, a nervous ball of energy. I want this to go well. I need this to go well. It has to go well. Please let it go well.
“I love you, Dacen,” I whisper to his sleeping body and kiss the top of his head. The last thought I have before I’m totally out is that I am absolutely where I’m meant to be, with the person I’m meant to be with. And that thought doesn’t scare me at all.
Now that he’s finally opened up and I understand where he’s coming from, I get it. Is he perfect? No, hence the frustration. But neither am I. Yes, we’ve had our fair share of problems, but he soothes my frayed, singed nerves and makes things seem more manageable, less chaotic. He may not be perfect, but he’s perfect for me.
Ryne Sutton, Mr. ‘I don’t give a fuck,’ looks at me like he’s suffocating and I’m his last breath of air.
He’s camouflaged behind an attitude that’s as likely to be apathetic and dismissive as it is to go from zero to a hundred on the anger scale in point two seconds. But his eyes always tell a different story; they expose his truth and his vulnerability. He’s not cold, not emotionless. From the first moment we met, his emotions have blazed hot and bright, so tangible I could almost reach out and touch them.
He’s quick to come to the aid of his friends, no questions asked. Yes, they also rag on each other all the time, but honestly, the snark is part of the charm. And we work, I know we do.
“I tried so hard to ignore this thing between us but the pull is so goddamn strong. I was in denial but obviously attracted to you and thought I’d do my usual bit. But you’re different, it felt different, and that freaked me out.
“Truth is, I’m completely addicted to you. I’ve missed you so much. I hope you can forgive me for being such a dick because I’m a selfish bastard and I’m asking for yet another chance.
So… you’re addicted to me, huh?” One of his whole-face smiles takes over and my stomach flip-flops as usual. “I hope there’s no cure for your addiction.” “There’s not, babe. Believe me. I tried and epically failed. There’s no cure.” “In that case, you better kiss me again. Because I am completely addicted to you too, Sweet Cheeks.”
My eyes widen and Ryne’s smirk deepens. He lets go of his towel and as it drops to the floor, he grabs me by the hips and yanks me forward. I’ve died. Heaven. This must be it.
“Oh God,” Roman groans. “You two have Princess Bride-level cuteness going on with that shit. Stop it before I catch feels. You know I don’t do emotions.” He visibly shudders.
“I don’t know how you did it, but you weaseled your way into my cold, dead heart and breathed life back into it.
You own my heart. I love you, Taco Socks. I’m in this for the long haul.”
Kill me now. I can see my tombstone clearly in my mind. The engraving reads: Here lies Ryne Sutton. Instead of being bested by a spiral-bound planner, the poor bastard perished from an epic case of blue balls while attempting to placate his best friend with buck hunting when all he wanted to do was bone his hot boyfriend.
