Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 95019 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95019 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
But I don’t know how else to take it, and my anxiety-prone mind’s already spinning with theories. Have I spent too much time with him? Is he getting bored with me already? Now that he’s seen his parents’ relationship implode, is he thinking we might not work out either and it’s not worth it?
Ryan releases my hand and rests his hand against my cheek, caressing with his thumb. So gentle, so reassuring.
“Hey,” he says, like he’s trying to pull me out of my head. “This is not the part where you get all anxious and insecure thinking I’m gonna break up with you over the shit I’m going through.”
“Why did you have to use the B-word, then?” I spit out.
He sighs. “Because I may not have been your boyfriend for long, but I know how you get all twisted up in that sexy head of yours…and I’m not going to let you have a moment where you think any of this stuff is coming between us. Got it?”
That cuts through my fear before I’ve had a chance to sit with it for long, and I appreciate that he understands my anxiety enough to make sure my mind doesn’t go there. Of course, it will anyway, but it was thoughtful of him to give it his best effort.
Ry moves in quickly for a kiss, and I hadn’t realized just how much I needed one until I feel his lips against mine, releasing me from all that hot tension that rose up after he got injured.
It’s the sort of kiss that makes it easier to remind myself: He’s fine. We’re fine.
The past few days, we haven’t kissed like this. They’ve felt forced, like he was going through the motions, trying to say things are fine when they’re not. But this one offers me assurance that despite wanting some space, he still cares about me.
When he pulls away, he says, “So…this is not an I’m-so-frustrated-and-confused-about-us moment. This is an I care about you. I want you in my life. And I-could-use-a-night-to-sulk moment.”
I get that. But I hate it too. Not for myself, but because he has a reason to sulk. And because there’s nothing I can do to cheer him up.
“We’ll get back to the apartment,” he says, “and then you go spend time with your family. I’ll probably order in, and when you get back, we’ll cuddle the fuck out of each other. How’s that?”
Another assurance that any concern I may have is ridiculous.
“That sounds good,” I lie because really, all I want is to be here for him right now, especially with how worked up I got over his injury.
But maybe he’s right. He does need some space. Since that uncomfortable conversation with his parents, he hasn’t had a chance to sit with it on his own. Maybe it’ll be good for him.
Then why doesn’t that make me feel any better?
31
Marty
I tell Mom, Dad, and Aiden about Ryan’s injury and why he couldn’t make it to dinner, assuring them he’ll be fine. But it’s evident they can tell something’s off, that I’m not myself, which sucks because now they’re probably worrying about me the way I’ve been worrying about Ryan since he found out his mom was seeing someone new.
I catch them up about what’s been going on otherwise, and after dinner, Aiden insists I throw the ball around with him out back.
“This is why I wanted Ryan to come over,” Aiden gripes. “I need a real throw, give me some distance.”
“Fuck, Aiden, I’m giving it the best I can.”
He backs up much farther. “If you don’t make it, you have to stay out here for another thirty minutes.”
As much as today sucks, it’s nice being back to the way things were when we were kids.
“It’s not even gonna be light out then!” I call to him.
“So it’s really gonna suck, isn’t it? Just give it to me.”
I put my all into the next throw, tossing a ball I wish we could have recorded for Ryan. It’s even got that perfect spin on it that Aiden taught me how to do. He catches it like it’s nothing, hamming it up like it was such a breeze, though I know he’s just as impressed with himself.
“There we go!” he calls out. “You’ll do anything to get out of a good time, right?”
I can’t stifle my laugh as he hurries toward me. I meet him halfway, and as I notice the sweat on his brow, I realize I’m sweating too.
“That was pretty good, right?” I ask.
He cocks a brow. “Eh, it was aight.”
“Whatever.” I nudge his chair, and he smirks.
We head over to the pool deck, where I settle on the swinging chair, and he pulls up beside me.
“So…” he drags out. “Now you gonna tell me what’s up?”
“Huh?” I’m hoping I can bluff my way out of this one, but his glare suggests it’s not gonna work.