Anxious Love (Love Sick #1) (24 page)

The truth was I missed her, too.

I reached down, picked her up, and set her on the counter. My hands ran down her legs, under her dress and squeezed her close to me. She reached up, grabbed my neck, and pulled my face down to her. Her tongue plunged into my mouth. Her body full of heat and urgency as she pushed my shorts down and pulled me out. I groaned into her mouth as I ground into her.

"Touch me," she whispered as she kissed me. My hand reached between her legs. I touched her, ran my fingers through her folds. She was so wet.

God, you're so wet.

I whimpered but pushed the image out of my head.

"I want you so bad," she said as she arched her back and moved against my fingers.

You totally want me. You dirty little slut.

I squeezed my eyes shut tight and pushed away from her with a groan. I turned my back to her, put my dick back in my shorts, and grabbed onto the counter with a death grip.

I could hear her panting and my cock protested painfully. I pushed off the counter and headed into the living room to grab my bag. "I have to get to practice."

I couldn't look at her. I didn't want to see the disappointment and hurt in her eyes.

"Ryan." The anguish in her voice broke my heart, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't be with her. Not now.

A couple of days after she told me, I had nightmares about it. About taking advantage of her. In my dream, I pushed her up against the wall, I fucked her from behind, and I bent her over the chair. Me talking about how wet she got when she was turned on. I couldn't get the images out of my head.

I would wake up with a rock hard erection and shame I didn't know existed. She was so sexually free with me, and now that I knew what she had been through, she was different. She didn't behave like a person who had experienced a trauma.

I was a coward because I was using her own issues against her when I was the one with the issues.

I headed toward the door.

"Ryan," she whispered.

I gripped the doorknob and paused.

"I'm sorry." I yanked it open and stepped out. I took one last glance in her direction and saw the tear streaming down her face. I bit my lip, blinked, and kept walking. "I can't deal with this right now."

I threw myself into practice. Went at it so hard, the coaches told me to slow down and save it for the game. I put in extra work on the launcher and did some other drills. I ran a few stairs for good measure. I stayed and signed autographs, took photos, and chatted with every fan that stayed. When the security wanted to lock up for the night, I left.

I unlocked the door, and my gaze went right to the spot where I had left Leah earlier. I half expected to find her waiting for me. Her legs open, her dress pushed up her thighs, her face flushed and her lips swollen from my kiss.

When she wasn't, a strange combination of two opposing emotions swept over me: regret and relief.

I made my way home and to Sophie's front door before the tears began. I didn't mean to knock on her door; my body and mind were working on automatic. We had not talked since the night of my episode, and I found it ironic. When I was in trouble, she was the first person I called. When she was in trouble, I was the first person she tried to avoid.

"Sophie," I called out.

"Hey, sorry. I was in the..." She stopped and stared. She opened the door wider and let me in. I stepped into the center of her place. I took in the room. I'd been in here millions of times, but it looked different. Sophie was a bit of a pack rat, but the place was clean and orderly. She had added a short bookshelf and her television, which had sat on the floor for years, was now mounted on the wall.

I walked over to the bookshelf and scanned her books. She loved to read, too. Lined up in order were my books among some classics.

I smiled and bit my lip. She walked over and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"What happened?"

Tears rolled down my face, but I maintained some control. It was slowly and achingly unraveling. I turned to her and saw it in her eyes, her concern. I stifled a sob with a hand over my mouth.

She took a piece of my hair and pushed it behind my ear.

"He doesn't want me anymore." I sobbed and collapsed into her arm.

Sophie held me up and walked me over to her wide chair in the corner. She pulled me in with her, and we sat there clinging to each other and crying. It was one of those gut-wrenching, rock bottom, make-yourself-sick crying sessions. Not one of those cleansing cries. We felt worse, not better, afterward, but we were closer, and we had each other. That was going to have to be okay for now.

When our tears subsided, she stood up and grabbed some tissue. She wiped my face like I was a child and then cleaned her own. I studied her. She looked rested and lighter. Her face wasn't the usual worn-out, haggard look she miraculously covered with makeup. The freckles on her nose were more pronounced. She smiled, and somewhere under the pain and heartache, I smiled back.

"You want to talk about it?"

I sighed. "Not much to say, really. I went to his place to talk to him about the game. I thought he wanted me there, but I don't think I can do it. I told him that, and I don't know. I thought he would care, but he didn't."

"What did he say?"

"He basically said he wasn't important enough to me for me to get over my issues."

"That's crazy, Leah." She knelt down in front of me. "He's just having a hard time dealing with it all. It's only been a week."

"I know. But he won't touch me. He won't even look at me. And when he does, he doesn't see me. He sees what happened to me, and it disgusts him."

"No. You sure it's not what you’re expecting because it's how you see it."

"I don't think so. I mean. It would be easy for me to push him away or forget about him. I don't let people get close because I don't want them to have to deal with my issues. I could blame it on my disorder. I don't want to do that anymore. I wasn't just better with him. I was better. I thought he was different." I pounded my fist into the cushion. "I didn't want him. He pursued me, and now that I let him in, this is what happens. It's not fair."

"It's going to take time."

"Maybe."

"You can't fault him for his feelings, but if he loves you and I think he does, he'll get over it."

I glanced at her. "Why are you being so optimistic?"

"What do you mean?"

"I could usually count on you to give me the worst-case scenario. What happened to you?"

She smiled. "Nothing. I've been doing some soul searching. You know. Taking inventory of my life. You are my inspiration." She leaned her head against my knee. "I am so impressed with you and how you've overcome so much. I'm tired of wasting my life; it seems disrespectful to you in some way.” She paused. "Leah."

The tears stung my eyes.

"You are amazing. You inspire me, and I'm sorry that I don't tell you that enough."

She leaned up, bit her lip, and blinked back tears. "We are so silly. You know that?"

"Yeah, I know. I don't mind us having the mean girl fights, but can we just not walk away. That's worse."

"You're right." She held out her hand, and I took it and squeezed. "And, Ryan, maybe he needs a little distance right now. But believe me, he'll figure out that he can't live without you. Believe me, I've tried. It sucks."

I grinned.

"I want to help him, but he won't let me." I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them when the image of Ryan pulling away from me made my heart hurt. "I wish I hadn't told him. I wish it never happened. I wish I could go back and..."

"And what, fight harder, remember faster, feel less, what?" Sophie asked.

"I wish Dana and I would have gone to Princeton instead."

Sophie laughed, and I joined her.

My eyes fell on her new bookshelf. My first book, the one that fictionalized Dana's and my story sat at the end of one of the rows. That book represented the start of my recovery. It had brought me money and success, but most of all, it brought me myself back. I dedicated the book to Dana and told her I would make sure what happened to us wouldn't define how I thought of her. She was my best friend, and I had let her down. Then and now.

Not anymore.

"You have to work this weekend?" I turned on my heels to face Sophie.

"Yeah, Saturday and Sunday," she answered, her eyes narrowed.

"I'm going to the lake today. Come down on Monday?"

"Sure, but why don't you wait until Monday and we can go together?"

"No, I need some time alone." I gave her a sheepish smile and shrugged my shoulders. "I figure in the next two days, when you come and find me, I'll be better or worse. But either way, I need to deal with some things on my own first."

Sophie smiled and nodded. I headed towards the door.

"You know you're going to be okay?" she said.

I shrugged again and left.

Regret overtook the relief.

I took another shower, threw on some sweats, and headed out the door ten minutes later.

"Whoa, man, where you going?" Daniel asked as he jumped away from the door and doubled clutched a bag to prevent it from toppling to the ground.

"I fucked up with Leah. I have to go find her."

"If you fucked up, don't go at her like that. You're going to freak her out."

"Like what?"

He pushed me back into our place, set the food on the counter, and turned on me. "Look at you, man. Your eyes are bloodshot; you got bags down to your chin, and that frown you've been wearing for the last week has turned into a scowl all day. What the hell happened between you two?"

"I can't talk about it." My chest tightened, and I held on to the nearest chair.

"Dude, we've been boys for years."

Sophie's words ran through my brain.

It's not my secret to tell.

I shook my head and sat down.

Daniel sat across from me, real concern showing on his face.

Fuck it, I need some help.

"Something happened to Leah in college. Some guys she knew assaulted her and her best friend. And after it happened, Leah couldn't remember the incident right away, and her best friend killed herself."

"Oh, fuck." Daniel's face grew red. I knew he would understand the rage I felt.

"That's why she doesn't like being around people. It happened at a party, and since then, she can't be in a crowd."

"Yeah, I can see why."

"How?" I stood up and clenched my fists. "How do you see why?"

"I just meant—"

"You have no idea what she's going through and neither do I. She’s not the girl I met."

"I know. She's stronger with you."

"Not strong enough." I turned on him, and he jumped up to avoid my reach.

"What does that mean?" Daniel's eyes narrowed.

"Nothing."

"Dude, what is wrong with you? That girl loves you, and despite her issues, she has been there for you. I've never seen you act like that with a girl, ever."

"She won't come to my game."

Daniel went back to the table and sat down. He stared down, the disappointment shooting off him in waves into my gut. I could see how I failed him, and I failed Leah worse.

"I knew it would happen eventually but didn't know how it would happen," he said.

"What are you talking about?"

"The moment when you would let all your own shit keep you from being happy." He pulled his food out of a bag. He reached back to the counter, grabbed a paper plate, and arranged his food. He was so precise and meticulous about certain things.

"This has nothing to do with me."

"You really don't see it, do you?"

"What?"

"You’re always waiting for people to disappoint you. When they don't disappoint you, you make up a reason for them to disappoint you so you don't have to deal with them."

My face scrunched so hard, my brain hurt. I grunted at the pain, but it increased.

I sat down with my head in my hands. I listened to Daniel chewing and waited for him to continue. I had no clue what he was getting at, but I wasn't about to leave this room until I heard his assessment of my life and my choices.

We sat in silence for longer than necessary, both of us stubborn. Finally, I relented. "Why would I want people to disappoint me?"