Harder (14 page)

“Your parents never made pancakes?”

No answer. Shoot, I forgot she doesn’t have a mom.

“I was in foster care, pretty much until I was sixteen. And not the kind of places that make you pancakes.” She leans forward on the counter, cheek on hand.

“These better be as good as McDonald’s.”

I grimace. “Those are gross.”

“Well excuse me, mister fancy pants. Some of us take what we can get.”

“No, I just meant, these will be better, I hope.”

I feel bad. I didn’t mean to be a snob. I’ll just make her the best damn pancakes of her life.

Ally

He shouldn’t look manly making pancakes, but he does. I glare at his back, resenting him for being so sexy and so off limits.

He doesn’t look at all embarrassed to be using all that muscle to just pour and flip pancakes. They smell amazing, but take sooo much longer than fast food ones.

I tap my fork on the table next to me lightly, beating out a drum rhythm from one of my favorite songs.

So bored. He’s completely involved in his cooking, and I hate being alone with my thoughts. I need TV, or something. Finally he turns around, plate in hand. He sets the plate down in front of me, hands me syrup, and butter, and sits down next to me.

He looks down for a second, like he’s trying to sneak a discreet prayer. I just do the same, hoping it counts for me too, whatever he’s doing. I already know the dude has some kind of religious hang-up. I mean damn, he was even spouting the no sex before marriage thing after being roofied, like he has it on autopilot somewhere. At least he seems to have forgiven me for last night. At least he’s still my friend.

I need him like that.

I spread butter all over my pancakes and drench them with syrup, then fold one up and put the whole thing in my mouth at once like I do at McDonald’s. It doesn’t work so good with real pancakes. I stare over at Ryan, eyes wide, cheeks puffed out. Shiz, this is awesome. Now if only I could swallow it. I feel like a hamster caught with too many nuts in its cheek.

He takes one look at me and laughs. He turns away. “Go ahead and spit it out. I’m not offended.”

I do, walking over to the garbage to do it. Regretting the loss of so awesome a pancake. “Works fine when it’s fast food,” I say, embarrassed. “You can just roll them up like a taco when you’re on the run.”

“Yeah, you’ll have to cut these,” he says. “They’re dense.”

“They’re amazing,” I say, plowing into the next one. “You’re amazing.”

He just keeps eating, a slight grin on his face the only indication that he’s realized food is my weakness. I push my plate away with a frown, he pushes it back without even looking.

“Eat, you need it after last night.”

“True, you’re a freakin’ beast to move around.” I grab another pancake, rip in half and just dip it in the rest of the goo on my plate. Living with someone like Ryan would probably make me fat. I laugh at the thought.

“What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking that whoever dates you is gonna get so fat.”

He purses his lips. “As long as they’re still happy, fine by me.”

I just shake my head. Dude is unreal.

“So, you don’t like me talking to Emily?” he asks, out of nowhere.

I freeze, pancake halfway to mouth, and decide to shove it in as a way not to answer. I chew slowly, take a drink of my milk, and go for another pancake, hoping he won’t notice.

“Ally?”

I groan and set my fork back down with a clatter. “Yeah?”

“You don’t like me talking to Emily?”

This is it. He’s got me. I don’t get it myself, I just know that I do mind, and that I shouldn’t, because I have no right to. “I don’t know.”

“You said you did. Why?”

“Maybe she roofied you,” I say. “You think of that? That’s probably why it bugs me. Yeah, you two were talking and stuff…”

“Is that all?” His green eyes bore into mine, like he can see straight through my skull and into my brain, but his face is gentle and relaxed, as always.

“Yeah, that’s all. But, I mean, yeah, that’s probably stupid.” I go back to eating my pancakes to try and look casual. “I’m sure she didn’t. You should date her. I think she’s into you.” Why am I saying this? Shut up, mouth.

“I should?”

“Yeah, sure. I hate to say it, because she’d drive me up the wall with the goody two shoes act, but I thought you two would make a good pair.”

He frowns at me, his face deadpan. “Why?”

I throw my fork down. “‘Cause she’s good enough, okay? She’s freaking good enough.”

“And you aren’t?”

“I’m not interested.” I push away from the counter. “I need to go home. I got homework. It’s late.”

“I’m sorry. I just, I don’t know what to say when you say someone else is good enough. But I know you just want to be friends. I get it. I’m okay with it.”

“You’re getting real good at this talking thing. Almost too good.” I don’t come back to the counter though.

“I’ve been good at it a long time, I just couldn’t show anyone, couldn’t let it out when I wanted to.”

“True. Fine. So you’ll date Emily?”

His eyes widen slightly. “Why? Why does it matter to you?”

“It just does. I’ll feel like it’s my fault if you don’t, ‘cause I said those mean things about her.”

“It’s not your fault. I’m not interested.”

“Why? ‘Cause you only like girls that are bad for you?”

“Because I’d rather be alone than with someone I don’t like,” he snaps.

I frown and step away. “Fine. ‘Cause that’s working out real well for ya, twenty year old virginator.”

His eyes go wide and his jaw tenses, accentuating the hard lines of his face. I’m such a douche. He just brings it out in me when he’s stubborn like that. He stands and walks towards me. The sexiest virgin ever. He’s wearing a black tee, and his hair is loose around his face. His slim hips barely hold up his sweats, and he even has nice feet.

As he gets closer, my hairs stand up and my neck gets hot. But then he passes me, goes to the front door, and holds it open.

“What?”

“One virginator. Ready to drive you home,” he says, sounding flat and robotic.

I laugh, and then wince. “I didn’t mean it Ryan. I just didn’t want to hold you back.”

“Virginator understands,” he says, leading the way to the car.

“Ryan, I’m sorry. I really am.”

“You know,” he says, pausing with his key in the ignition, “just what’s so wrong about being a virgin anyway?”

I shrug. “I just don’t want you missing out on things because you’re holding out hope for me.”

He shakes his head, revs the car, and palms the wheel to take us out of the driveway. “That’s not really your call.”

“I’m just trying to tell you the truth,” I say. “Trying to be honest with you.”

“Are you though?” We stop at a light and he pushes on the steering wheel to stretch his arms. Sunlight streams through the windshield and highlights the curves and swells of his muscles. “Are you really able to say that for certain?”

“Aren’t I the one who could?”

“You can say you don’t want me. But you can’t say you never will. Likewise, I can’t promise I’ll always want you. Maybe we get to know each other, maybe it doesn’t work out.” He turns to me, and his eyes are striking in the sunlight. Dark green at the edges, smooth jade in the center. Surprisingly dark lashes. “But you don’t get to tell me not to hope.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt. Someone like Emily, she’s not going to hurt you.”

“How do you know that?” He stops at the next light and looks around. Asks me for my address. I give it to him.

“I don’t.”

“Right, you don’t know. You’re judging her without knowing her, just like people judge you.”

I shrug. “I don’t want to know her. She’s too nice.”

“People like me Ally, we’re shy. That doesn’t mean we’re nice. Or that we can’t be flawed and mean as well. Quiet doesn’t mean good, and loud doesn’t mean bad. As you’ve proven.”

I can’t even believe how much the dude can talk once he gets going. I can’t believe I teased him all last season without him saying more than a couple of words. All that time, what was he thinking?

“I was so annoying to you last summer. How did you put up with it?”

He chuckles, low and pleasant. “I liked it. You were funny.”

I fold my arms and sit back, proud. “I can be.”

“You are,” he says. “Sometimes.”

“Thanks.” I tap my window as he pulls up in front of my place. My building looks extra dirty after spending the night somewhere so wonderful. But I’m sure that once I get upstairs and remember it’s all mine, that I’ll be comfortable.

“So you aren’t going to date Emily, then?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know her.”

“Can’t know her if you won’t try.”

“I’m not good with girls.”

“I could help you,” I say, a lump forming in my throat.

He shakes his head, as if to say, ‘not this again’, and just stares out the windshield.

“I mean it. You’ve been a good friend to me. I want to be a good friend to you. I can’t be what you want me to be, but I can help you be with someone who can make you happy.”

“And that would make you happy?” His eyes meet mine, and I swallow. Try anyway, since my throat is so dry all of a sudden that nothing is really going down.

“Sure.” It’s such a huge lie that it literally hurts coming out. “Yeah.”

He takes a deep breath, and exhales. I can still remember how his chest looked, bare in the moonlight. How much I wanted to touch it, run my hands over it. How can he look so much like a man, and yet not be a man to me?

“And it would make me more comfortable around you, more okay with being friends. Because I’d know you’d given up on me. That I wasn’t holding you back from better things.”

Another deep breath, another semi-sigh. He needs to stop doing that. It’s becoming almost endearing now.

“Alright. So now what?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “We go back to senior guarding together? Helping each other with homework, and forget all the kissing?”

“I meant about Emily.”

“Oh, I’ll have to think about it.” I’m sitting and waiting for him to get my door, because I’m used to him trying. But he doesn’t. Just friends for real I guess.

I reach for the door. He sits up.

“Oh, sorry.” He gets out and comes around the side to open it. Yeah it figures he would do that for his friends too.

I get out and lean against the car door and look up at him. So handsome. So not me. “Even though the kissing was nice.”

“Yeah it was. The one time it happened.”

“Uh, well…” I look at the trees past him.

“What?”

“Um, about that…”

Trees rustle around us with the breeze as he waits for me to speak. It’s a perfect day out here. Sunny but breezy and cool. Humid but not uncomfortable.

“Ally?”

“When you were passed out, we sort of kissed.”

His perfect eyebrows raise. “We did?”

“Yeah, I was sort of too close, checking you out, and then you accidentally pulled me onto you. I swear I wasn’t going to do anything though.”

His eyebrows lower slightly and he bites his lower lip. So sexy. I need him to date someone else so I can stop thinking of him like this.

“Sorry about that.”

Now my brows raise. He’s sorry for kissing me? “It was my fault. Too close, like I said.”

He takes a deep breath and looks to the side. I can’t read him right now. “Why were you too close?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Why?” He comes closer, and the hairs on my arm stand up. The air is warmer when he’s close, though he’s blocking the sunlight.

“I don’t know. You’re hot? I mean, you’re my friend, and you’re weird as hell, but you’re hot. Especially, I don’t know—”

“Asleep?”

“Uh.” That does sound bad. “Yeah?”

He laughs, holding his stomach like he usually does when something takes him as really funny.

“What’s so funny?” I demand.

“Oh just, you get mad at me for not being manly, but you want to look at me when I’m vulnerable.”

I gulp. That does sound bad. “I don’t know what I want, okay? And you shouldn’t wait around while I figure it out. I mean, I want your friendship. You’re the best friend I have here, and I don’t want to lose that. I can’t lose that.” I’m turning red, I can feel it, moving up my neck and into my face. I hate that. He takes my badass away, but for some reason it’s okay.

“Okay. Friends. As friends do you want a ride to training tomorrow?”

“And leave Big Blue home? Never. Oh wait, I left my car at work. Amy drove me to her place. On second thought, maybe I’ll take that ride.”

“Sure.”

“And we can decide what to do about Emily.”

He nods.

“And you can help me with my ASL homework.”

He smiles and nods once more. I don’t know how he decides when he’s going to be super quiet and when he’s going to be a chatterbox. It’s unnerving when he reverts back to the former.

“See you tomorrow,” I say, glad that’s the case.

“Yeah, see you then,” he says.

I scrunch my mouth up to the side, uncertain why I hate that he’s leaving.

“Ryan?”

He stops, turns to me. “Yeah?”

“Hug me?”

His eyebrows go up again. He looks side to side, like he thinks I’m talking to someone else. “You want me to hug you?”

I nod. “You’ve never hugged me.”

“I didn’t think you were the type who liked them.”

“Who doesn’t?”

He comes over slowly, arms at his sides. Looks down at me. I shouldn’t have asked. He’s going to say no. I’m so stupid. Then he leans over, folds me in his arms, and just stays there for a second.

I stand stock still in shock, then rest my head on his shoulder, wrap my arms around him. It feels so good, so safe. Maybe safer than I’ve ever been. It feels like I don’t have any right to do this, but I like it. I haven’t hugged anyone in a really long time.

I wasn’t touched much growing up. I made sure to stay prickly so people stayed away. I know it’s dumb to be unprickly because then someone can get in and hurt you, but I want this right now. Warm, and safe. Whoever gets him is going to be so lucky.

I pull back so he doesn’t have to. “Thanks.” My arms want to defy me and grab him again. Stupid arms.