Chapter 5 Gianna #3
Instead, we’re left standing in a silent challenge, waiting to see who will break first. And it’s the strangest thing, because even though it’s been years, I swear each breath we take makes the air pull taut like a rubber band. I wonder how much stretch it has before it will snap.
I still don’t move as he reaches out to caress one of my unruly curls.
The chocolate strands wrap around his finger, while the corner of his mouth pulls up into a lazy grin.
My curl bounces as it falls from his hold.
He moves the backs of his fingers so they graze gently across my lips, and my skin burns.
It’s as if NOS is atomised in my bloodstream, and he’s just lit it to flames.
I give in, stepping back and sucking much-needed air into my lungs.
‘Not happy to see an old friend?’ Ryker teases.
‘You’re not my friend.’ I force the words through clenched teeth.
‘Hmm,’ he ponders. ‘You’re right. We’ve always been more than that.’
His eyes are calculating as they search mine, each millisecond sending more fire gushing through my veins.
‘What are you doing here?’ I ask again.
‘Just taking in the morning sun.’
I look up at the clouds that seem to be growing denser by the second. ‘What sun?’
‘It’s always sunny above the clouds.’
‘Well, I hope it rains soon.’ I cock my hip, resting my hand on my side. I catch sight of intricate ink weaving along his forearms and disappearing beneath his black t-shirt. I haven’t even gotten a good look, but I’m furious at how much I already like it.
Conflicting emotions swirl around in my chest. Chuckie has moved on to the next tree, and I make to go after him. I frown when I feel Ryker follow.
I spin around. ‘Do you need something?’
He looks down at me as he stands with his perfectly straight posture and laid-back charm. ‘Do you not want the company?’
‘Not yours.’
Ryker lets out a haughty laugh, playfully poking at me with a finger. ‘What’s got your panties in a twist?’
Gee, I wonder? I bat his prodding hand away, and our eyes clash. I’d love to keep telling myself I hate him, but there’s a softness between us that only years of growing up together can bring.
‘What. Do. You. Want?’ My voice is quiet, all gravel, as I resist the urge to press my palms to my eye sockets to dull the headache that’s forming. It’s too early for this shit.
‘You.’
Just like that. A single word and Ryker Edwards makes everything seem easy. As if there aren’t years of hurt, betrayal and pain between us.
I rise on the tips of my toes to get in his face. ‘You can’t have me.’
He doesn’t recoil at my words. In fact, his eyes dance – I’ve just given him a challenge.
When he speaks, our breaths merge as one. ‘Now what was that about personal space?’
I give him a bitter grin, hating that my heart still warms at the small scar slicing through his left brow.
I can’t believe at one point all I ever wanted was his attention, and was happy when I had it.
I’m consumed by a wish for never having met him, or maybe it’s a longing for a part of him that I’m not sure even exists anymore.
‘Are you going to apologise?’ I barely whisper the words, but it’s enough to finally break the tension.
A single syllable passes through his lips. ‘No.’
‘Why?’ I demand.
Not that it matters. It’s too little, too late. I wouldn’t forgive him even if he grovelled at my feet.
His eyes blaze. ‘Because I don’t forgive myself.’
I shake my head, reminding myself that I don’t care. I’m not going to spend another four years wondering where he is, why he left and if he ever thinks of me.
Ryker’s phone dings, and he pulls it from his pocket. I can’t make out the image but the screen is lit with a silver hue. He goes still, as if he’s been snared by something that won’t let go.
Not caring what’s made him freeze, I go to race after Chuckie and leave him behind, sick of whatever this is, but Ryker grabs my arm. He stops me in my tracks and twirls me back into his chest, his calloused fingers tight around my skin. He holds me, easily, because I don’t fight him.
His turquoise eyes pierce mine as we lock gazes. My heart backflips and dives like it’s careening off a cliff. I pray he can’t hear how wildly it’s beating.
‘Would you have been happier if …’ His voice has a hollow tone. ‘If it had been me instead?’
That old familiar feeling of pain smacks into me. That’s the thing about grief. Just as you think it’s wreaked enough havoc, it returns with a vengeance, snatching the oxygen from your lungs like the breath was never yours to have.
I don’t know what to say. I could confront him and demand answers.
Why are you here?
What’s brought you back?
Why did you leave when I needed you the most?
The questions slip to the tip of my tongue, but I don’t have the courage to ask them. My heart already aches with the fear of an answer.
So instead, I pull out of his grasp. This time, he lets me go. Ryker’s fingertips graze my skin a final time before his hand falls to his side. I turn away and call for Chuckie.
His paws pad along beside me as I stomp back toward the garage, ready to take my frustration out on the SS.