job,” he explained in a soft voice. “If Matt’s offering, let him do it.”
“Ok,” I agreed. This close to Ryder, with so much of our bodies touching, I felt breathless, disoriented.
“Do you have time for a walk?” he asked, his thumb brushed a line across the palm of my hand and his knee pressed harder against my thigh. I felt slightly jostled as his knee bounced furiously up and down connected so tightly to me.
“Yes,” I answered before I actually looked at the time.
A crooked smile broke across his too handsome face and he met my eyes and held them for several moments. Neither of us said anything, or moved, and then everything quieted around us, or at least I felt like it did. The sounds of dishes clinking together in the sink ceased, his father and uncles voices faded away and then there was only my breathing and his as our chests lifted and fell in harmony.
“Ok, let’s go,” he breathed and then tugged me to my feet.
“Ok,” I heard myself say. And then I was following him out the door and ignoring every single rational protest that was screaming inside my head.
Chapter Thirty
We didn’t walk far, just up the last flight of stairs and to the roof of the building. The cement ceiling was flat and littered with gravel. The wind whipped, chilly and crisp across our faces. The sun was bright and warm this morning, in constant battle with the dropping temperatures of autumn.
Ryder let go of my hand when we were alone on the roof and walked to the far side. I followed. I didn’t have a choice but to follow. I was in way deeper than I wanted to be- than I should be.
He turned around once he reached the shoulder high wall barricade of the brick building. The tall wall kept us from having a great view of downtown but over the top of it I could see the trees from the mall all turned brilliant fall shades of orange and red and yellow and I could see the tops of all the biggest buildings, First National, the Holland Center, The Double Tree Hotel.
“I want to know, Ivy,” Ryder said simply in a way that seemed relaxed but sincere.
Tears pricked my eyes immediately. Whatever I said about Ryder, whatever I wanted to believe…. I liked his friendship, I valued it. And I liked him. This conversation was the beginning of the end. The death of everything beautiful between us.
“No you don’t,” I whispered. “I promise you, you don’t.”
“Tell me,” he demanded, taking a step forward and gripping my hands in his.
“Tell you what?” I turned my head, afraid to meet his eyes.
“Ivy, don’t,” his voice grated against my heartstrings, rough and violent, demanding and authoritative. And it was like my entire being responded to him, like my soul sat up straight and my blood buzzed attentively in my veins. He pulled at me.
And that terrified me.
“Ryder I can’t…. there is nothing to tell,” I argued.
He took a step forward. “I want to help you. I want to be your friend, but you have to let me.”
This did not feel like friendship.
I turned my head away and avoided his eyes some more. This tactic wasn’t really working, but I wasn’t strong enough to leave him so it would have to do.
“Ok, then start with Sam. Will you tell me about Sam?” That damn voice. I regretfully looked up at the soft, pleading tone of his voice and he trapped me. Paralyzed me. And then bewitched me. “Please, Ivy. Help me understand.”
I hesitated for as long as I could, for an entire two minutes, and then I caved, “Sam Evans…. we dated last year. He was a senior and I was a sophomore. But, um, he was on the basketball team and I was kind of working my way through dating them all.” A blush flooded my face and for the first time what my life represented and the expectations Nix and my mother had on me humiliated me.
“Ivy, it’s Ok, you can trust me,” he swore in a way that I had no choice but to believe him.
I pulled some courage from places I didn’t think I had, and cleared my throat. “By the time Sam and I started dating, I had already been through the point guard, the center and some of the second string. I was tired of dating…. tired of, just tired of it all. And I really liked Sam. He was