Chapter Nineteen
Rygaard
"I can’t believe you’re graduating next week," Presley pouts, her bottom lip jutting out in that way that always undoes me.
She's been like this ever since Rafe lost his shit on her. I get it, he’s her older brother, but he took it too damn far. She told me he apologized, swore it would never happen again, but that shit hit too close to home.
My old man used to get handsy with my mom like that. I don’t fucking like it.
Every time I see something even close to that, something snaps inside me. I’d tear through anyone who lays a hand on my woman or my mother.Father or not, no exceptions.
Thinking about it, I wonder if that’s why my mom is the way she is, broken in places no one can see.
The first time I saw it happen, I made damn sure it was the last.
The air shifts.
My chest tightens.
White-hot pressure rises behind my eyes. Then, her tiny hands cradle my face, pulling me back from the edge.
"Where did my Ry Ry go, huh?" she whispers, her voice the softest thing I’ve ever heard. I grip her waist, grounding myself in her, my jaw unclenching as I stare into her warm, waiting eyes. "There he is," she smiles, standing on her toes to kiss me, her lips barely brushing mine.
A low moan slips from me, helpless, raw.
"I love how your voice can always pull me back," I breathe, pressing my forehead against hers. "When it feels like I’m trapped deep inside myself."
"I’ll always pull you out, Ry," she promises, threading her arms around my neck. "I’m your lifeline. And you're mine."
She leans back a little, studying me. "How are you feeling about life after graduation?"
I sigh, the weight of everything heavy between us.
"Presley, I know I’m supposed to go off to New York for college, but I just don’t think I can leave you."
Her face hardens, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. "No, that wasn’t the plan, Ry!" she snaps, her voice rising. "We agreed you’d go, and I’d meet you there next year."
Every part of her, her posture, her eyes, the tremble in her hands, screams betrayal.
And she’s right.
I’m fucking up the plan.
Truth is, I don’t want to be anywhere she’s not.If it means staying here, attending some community college, and dragging their tragic football team into greatness, I will.
For her.
"I know what we said, but you know how I feel about you," I say carefully.
"I do," she says, her voice breaking, "but that’s no reason to blow up everything we talked about." She drops her arms, her whole body sagging. "I love you more than life itself, Ry. We’re strong enough to make it work. It’s just one year. You need to do what’s best for the future. That’s living your life. "
"I don’t want to just 'make it work.'" I pause.
Confusion and hurt flicker across her face as she steps back. "So... what are you saying? You want to break up?" she whispers, barely audible.
I close the space between us, wrapping my arms around her, pressing my head against her stomach.
"No, baby. Breaking up is the last thing I want. I need to be with you, to exist with you. To make that happen, I’ll stay right here."
"But I want you to go," she insists, her voice trembling. "I don’t want to be the reason you regret not doing all the things you should have."
"What about your parents? You think they’re gonna let you stay here with me? They’ve mapped out your whole life." She argues.
"I’m eighteen. They don’t control me anymore."
"Oh yeah? And how do you figure that? You don’t have money. Where would you live if you stayed? Your father would cut you off." She lifts her chin, defiant.
"I could get a job. I could start at the bottom of an architecture firm.” I laugh, the irony is not lost on me. Architecture, my old passion before football swallowed me whole.
"I vaguely remember your love for it," she teases, smiling down at me, even though I know she knows exactly how much it once meant. "You could study architecture in college," she argues, her voice softer but desperate. "We could still go together."
I shake my head. "I don’t want to argue with you, Presley.” She shoves at my shoulders, breaking free from my hold. "Where are you going?" I ask, watching her retreat.
"Away," she mutters. "I need time to think."
"Presley, we’re not done talking!" I shout, chasing after her.I catch the sweet scent of her perfume and follow it downstairs, straight into trouble.
"Baby, " I start, but then a voice cuts through the air like a blade.
"Baby?" Rafe's voice, sharp and disbelieving. “Are you calling my little sister, baby ?” He steps into view, his fists clenching at his sides. Presley slips behind me, giving me a clear shot at Rafe. We’re eye-level, but I’ve got a little more muscle.
A little more edge. If he wants to throw down, we can.
"I did," I say coolly. "And if you’ve got a problem with it, we can settle it."
He squares his shoulders. Without warning, he smacks me across the face.
I take it.
I know what it’s about. And I know he’s not done.
"That’s for lying to me," he growls. "When I asked if you two were sneaking around." His fist slams into my gut. "And that’s for standing there, letting me trash my sister when you knew you were fucking her."
Pain blooms, but I push through it.
"Rafe, I, "
"Shut the fuck up!" he roars. I open my mouth again, but he cuts me off. "And you!" he snaps at Presley. "Why did you let me call you all those names? Are you guys, " His voice breaks. "Are you guys sleeping together?"
Presley's cheeks flush crimson.
She doesn’t speak.
Rafe’s gaze flicks back to me, full of fury and betrayal.
"I should beat the shit out of you," he spits. "But honestly? I’m glad it’s you and not one of those sleazeballs she hangs around with."
He looks at Presley, broken. "Why would you even do that, Presley?"
Presley tilts her chin up, her voice clear. "Oh, now it’s okay for me to speak?" she challenges. "Not that it’s any of your business, but... I did it to make Rygaard jealous."
"Please, tell me you're still a virgin," Rafe pleads.
She smirks, unrepentant. "Ry, you’d better get the defibrillator ready," she says lightly. "Because no, Rafe. I’m not. I gave it to your bestie."
Rafe's face crumples.
Presley doesn't wait. She spins on her heel and stalks out.
"Sorry, dude," I mutter, already sprinting after her. "But I gotta get my girl."
"Prez! Presley, wait!" I call after her.She doesn’t even turn around. "I said I don’t want to see you right now, Ry! Leave me alone!" she shouts back, vanishing upstairs to her room
I stand there, helpless, burning with regret.
Rafe saunters up beside me, like the asshole he is. "Well, looks like you fucked up."
I slap the back of his head. "So did you, asshole."
A Few Days Later
It’s been three days.
Three days of Presley ghosting me.
Three days of unanswered texts, missed calls, and rejected midnight climbs up to her window.
Since she’s been ignoring me, I haven’t had the chance to tell her I’m doing what she says. I leave for New York in two weeks.And my girl, my whole fucking world, isn’t talking to me.
Enough.
Storming out of my house, I march across the street.Her parents barely glance up as I shove through the front door and head straight for her room.
I don’t knock.
I just push the door open, and find her curled on her bed, crying.
"Ry?" she sniffles. "What are you doing here?"
"What am I doing here?" I demand, my heart cracking wide open. "Presley, I graduate soon. Can’t we talk, please?"
She stands, wiping her cheeks, her voice trembling. "There’s no easy way to say this... but I think it’s best if we go our separate ways," she says, her voice breaking me. "You want to stay for me. I won’t be responsible for ruining your future."
The ground disappears beneath my feet.My world, my everything, shatters.