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Chapter 9
Ryan couldn't go back to the apartment. Not tonight. Not with the way Summer had been looking at him for the past few days. She was trying to break him down. Playing games. Teasing him. Tempting him. It was unsettling.
So instead of going home to her, he went along with some of the guys from the garage to his usual haunt, Rhythm and Brews -formerly known as The Hole.
Ryan looked around. The bar was packed. There were plenty of girls that would give it up here. It was what he'd liked about the place...before. He realized he'd started calculating his life in terms of Before Summer and After Summer. The differences were stark. His habits had changed so much he barely remembered being his former self. And he wondered, somewhere deep down, if he was just acting. If he was just doing all of this -being this...standup guy-just to impress Summer. Was he really capable of staying on the road she was leading him on? Or was he going to crash and burn? It would be so easy to crumble in the wreckage, to take the easy way out. Just collect his loses and walk away.
As if his life weren't complicated enough...as if there weren't enough problems in his mind to work through...he had to catch the eye of Adelina from across the room.
Picking up her drink--some pink concoction with lots of ice--Lena strutted toward Ryan. Her movements were predatory. He didn't have to guess what was on her mind. He could read it in her hips, the way they swayed side to side, inviting him to look.
He was aware that she had been watching him all night. The alcohol in her system was making her brave, bold.
"Hey, Ryan."
Ryan stretched out in his chair. "Hey."
Taking up a chair, she maneuvered herself toward him, trapping his leg between both of hers. "Hey," she said again and smiled.
Ryan didn't reply. He watched her instead. Traced her body with his eyes. It was a damn fine body. And he'd enjoyed it several times over. It would be a lie to say he wasn't attracted to her; a lie to say she didn't turn him on. But there was something... something missing.
Lena leaned forward, giving Ryan a view of her ample breasts. She giggled in that way girls do when they've discovered their power as women. She knew what it did to him when she ran her tongue over her lips, when she touched him on his thigh so close to the epicentre of his teenage reasoning. Running her fingers into his hair, she smiled. "Wanna go to my place? My parents went out of town. Come on, Ry. It'll be just like old times. Remember how good we were together?"
Ryan sighed. It had come down to this.
Everything rested on his answer.
"I can't." The reply came easier than he thought. It felt right.
"Why not? Come on," she whispered, licking the shell of his ear. "I know you want to. Don't you remember what it was like with us? How I'd let you fuck me...over and over." She kissed his earlobe and moved down his neck, nipping as she went. Her hand moved from his thigh to the front of his pants. "Does she do that? Your little girlfriend. Huh?"
It was a test. A test for himself. Summer would never know, but he would. And he couldn't do that to her. Or himself. He couldn't screw up. Not now.
Ryan forcefully picked her up away from his lap. "I said no."
Lena looked stricken. Her eyes narrowed. "You're an asshole, Atwood!"
Standing, Ryan reached for his wallet and pulled out a twenty. He dropped it on the table, feeling Adelina's eyes on him. "Take care of yourself, Lena."
"Fuck you!"
Ryan straddled his motorcycle in the parking lot, taking a moment to breathe. For the first time in a long time a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Maybe this was what he'd been waiting for all along. Some way to prove to himself that he truly was worthy of Summer's affections. That he was, to at least some degree, that guy she wanted him to be.
Ryan hadn't come home after class. Summer barely thought about it. It was late and it had been a long day. Tired after finishing her homework and cleaning up, she decided to go to bed.
Summer woke with a start. Something didn't feel right. Ryan still wasn't home. His side of the bed was cool and unslept in. Looking at the digital clock, her eyes could barely focus. At first, she thought it was midnight, but straining her eyes, she saw she was wrong and that it was really two in the morning. Crawling out of bed, she went to inspect the living room. Ryan was nowhere to be found. The couch hadn't been slept on and Ryan's dinner hadn't been touched. Summer felt panic rising inside her.
The small apartment felt very large and unprotected all of a sudden. Ryan's warnings came back to her. Racing to the door, she checked the lock once, twice and then a third time just to be sure.
The breeze from the open window wasn't cool, but cold. It sank into her bones and made her blood curdle. Her bare toes numb, Summer walked to the window and slammed it shut, daunted by the street below.
Her mind began to swirl. What if someone was watching her? What if something had happened to Ryan and he couldn't protect her?
The night at The Hole came back to her. How defenceless she had been. It wouldn't happen again. She needed some type of weapon, something to protect herself with. Making her way to the kitchen, she rummaged through the drawers until she found what she was looking for. Producing a large knife, Summer held it in her hand, feeling the heavy weight of it.
Pacing was getting her nowhere so she took a seat on the couch. Her back was straight and her ears were busy listening for sounds that didn't exist. The minutes moved slow. She felt so stupid. So weak.
Anything could happen to her here while she was alone.
The turn of the lock in the door caused Summer to stand up and grip the knife tighter in her trembling hands. Anyone could walk through the door. She prepared herself for the possibility that it may not be Ryan.
But it was Ryan. The door flew open a little too fast and his steps were a little too crooked and heavy. The sight of him made her both sick and relieved.
Fear and anger mingled together and coloured her vision. Her first instinct was to lash out. "Where were you?!"
The stink of alcohol was on his clothes and...perfume. She noticed marks on his neck. Were they...bite marks? Her heart sank.
Ryan wouldn't look her in the eye. "I went out for a drink."
"I was worried! I-I thought, but you- You were with her?"
His head snapped up. "Who?"
"You know who!"
The anger was better than fear. It was bitter and hard and felt good. "Did you fuck her?"
"What? Why would I-" He stopped. Stared. Sobered.
There were tears in her eyes. Frightened tears.
For the fist time he noticed she was shaking. And not even just a little. Her whole body was trembling. Gripping a knife so tightly her fingers had turned white, she failed to notice that she had nicked the side of her hand and blood was trickling down the underside of her arm.
"You're bleeding," Ryan said and it didn't escape him that now his own voice was shaking. The sight of blood was making his stomach turn and he knew it was his doing, his fault.
"What?"
He had to remain calm. Someone had to. "Put down the knife, Summer."
Summer looked down at the knife as if just realizing she was holding it and threw it to the ground. She touched the cut on her hand and hissed.
Ryan rushed over to her. She looked at him and he hated what he saw in her eyes. Leading her over to a chair, he crouched down in front of her and inspected the cut. It was tiny, barely a scratch. It had stopped bleeding, but it needed to be cleaned up. Grabbing some napkins from the table, Ryan wrapped them around her hand and rested it on her leg. "I'll be right back."
"No!" she said, reaching out for him.
"I'm just going to get you a bandaid." Watching him closely, Summer seemed to be deciding if he was telling the truth. Believing him, she let go of his shirt and looked at the ground, mumbling something he couldn't make out.
Returning quickly, Ryan set out the first aid kit and knelt down in front of Summer again. She would barely look at him.
Grappling with the disorganised kit, Ryan searched for something to wash out the wound. He dabbed iodine on and around the cut. Summer flinched. Ryan blew on the wound to take away the sting. Summer still refused to look at him.
"I guess I seem foolish to you."
Ryan shook his head. "No."
Summer snorted. "Come on, you must think I'm every bit as naive and cowardly as I was back when you had to rescue me at the bar."
"I don't think that," he said, unwrapping a bandage and placing it over the cut. Because what would he have done if someone had broken in? If someone had hurt her... It was too much to think about.
"You should," she said, rubbing her eye. "Because I am. I can't believe I thought- I mean, I was so stupid!" Summer stood, knocking the bottle of iodine over, letting it spill out onto the carpeted floor. It created a large stain that she refused to even look at. She was determined to get away from Ryan.
Ryan had other ideas. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward him.
"Hey!"
"What?" she snapped, her eyes narrowed.
He made sure to look her in the eye, softening his voice. "I didn't fuck her. Not even close."
"But you wanted to?"
"No." Ryan shook his head. He took a deep breath.
Summer pushed him away. "Don't lie to me. I can't take it when people lie to me!"
"I'm not lying! I swear to you."
Summer looked at him for a long minute. Whether she believed him or not he didn't have a clue.
"I'm going to bed," she said and walked right into the bedroom, leaving him to clean up the mess.
After scrubbing for thirty minutes, Ryan knew the stain wasn't coming out. He needed it to; needed it to be gone. But the harder he tried, the more it spread. Reluctantly he gave up for the night.
He felt drained, both mentally and physically. Needing a shower, he walked down the hall, passing the bedroom on his way. The door was closed. Ryan couldn't bring himself to open it. Instead he passed by and entered the bathroom. Stripping down to nothing, he ran the water warm and stepped under the spray.
He used soap to get the smoke, sweat, dirt and the stink of Lena off of himself.
Wiping the sleep out of her eyes, Summer ventured into the living room. Ryan was standing in front of the window, cigarette burning away in his hand.
"Ryan?"
He didn't move.
"I should have called." His voice was so quiet that Summer barely heard him.
"If you want to be with someone else, I'll understand."
Ryan pivoted around. "How can you even think that?"
"I'm not stupid, Ryan. I know you don't want me." Summer looked at the ground.
"What? Where would you...?"
"It's fine. I get it."
Ryan took a step toward her. "Summer, the only reason I have picked up and dragged you into the bedroom and, just, God, just explored every inch of you is because..."
"Because why?"
Ryan sighed, butting out his cigarette. "I don't even know anymore."
Saddling up to his side, she wrapped her arms around him. "If I asked you to 'explore every inch' now, would you?"
"Are you asking?"
She could tell that he wasn't sure whether he could believe her or not. Arching up on the heels of her feet, she kissed his neck, smiling when she pulled back, watching his eyes open.
She watched the bands of tension slowly snap. He was right where she wanted him; where she had been trying to get him for months. Knowing he would do anything to satiate her, she asked him with her eyes.