Chapter 43 Ryan
Ryan
“I popped round this morning,” Nick says, coming up to me in the garden as I’m desperately trying to enjoy a beer on my own before lunch.
“How come?” I ask distractedly.
“So we could have breakfast together. But you weren’t in.”
“I went out for a run.”
“The day after a big match?”
Fuck.
“Maybe I just didn’t want to let you in.”
“I went inside and you weren’t there. Actually, I’m sure you didn’t even sleep there last night.”
“You went into my apartment?” I say, raising my voice. “Who the fuck gave you a key?”
“Ian,” he says, pointing behind him.
“What did I do?”
“Why did you give him a key to my apartment?”
“For safety.”
“Safety? Safety from what?”
“In case something happened to you and I wasn’t around…”
“Jesus Christ, Ian! What would happen to me?”
“What’s all this shouting about?” Dad pops his head into the garden.
“Just a brotherly argument.”
“Again?”
“No big deal,” Nick interjects. “Just that Ryan didn’t go home last night so…”
“For fuck’s sake, Nick!”
“What?”
“Mmm… interesting,” Dad says, starting to put the pieces together.
“Thanks a lot!”
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with…”
“It’s got nothing to do with anyone. It’s nothing!”
“But you slept somewhere else,” Mum says, jumping into the conversation from God knows where.
“Does every detail of my life have to be publicised?”
“Don’t be dramatic, Ryan. What do you mean ‘publicised’? We’re your family!”
“I don’t remember you being this nosy when Ian started seeing Riley.”
“Well, Ian was more discreet – we found out once they were together. But you’re an open book. You always have been.”
I scoff impatiently, slouching onto a chair.
“So…” Ian tries again. “You could’ve invited her round for lunch.”
“Why should I have?” It’s pointless by now trying to pretend that nothing’s going on – they’ve already stuck their noses into my life.
“Come on, Ryan,” Mum responds. “I know I’m your mother, and there are certain things you don’t have to tell me, but that’s not the right way to treat someone. If you… slept at her house, the least you could do is invite her for lunch. Otherwise she’ll feel… how shall I put it…?”
“Like a slut,” Nick finishes for her.
“Nick O’Connor!” Mum cries.
“That’s what you meant.”
“I didn’t treat her like…I don’t think she…”
I close my eyes and hold the cool beer bottle against my forehead.
Did I really make her feel like that?
“Oh look, he got there all on his own,” Ian says, walking over to me and patting my shoulder.
“We’re not like you and Riley,” I say, trying to defend myself.
“Of course. Every relationship is different, Ryan.”
“Relationship? We’re not in a relationship.”
“What do you want to call it, then?” Dad pipes up again.
I sigh, exhausted. I think I’ll try avoiding family lunches from now on.
“Look, Ryan… You can call it whatever you want. You can be dating her, seeing her, whatever… but that doesn’t change anything. I don’t think sneaking away this morning was the right way for an O’Connor to behave.”
“It’s not like I snuck away in the middle of the night – we all had breakfast together this morning.”
Fuck. I can’t keep anything to myself.
“This just gets worse and worse,” Mum says, shaking her head. “You should have invited both of them!”
“Should I?” I ask, panicking now.
They all look at me, nodding.
I drop my head into my hands and rest my elbows on my knees.
“You can do it, Ryan,” Dad says, laying a hand on my shoulder. “One step at a time.”
I bolt upright at the sound of those words.
One step at a time. The exact words she said to me last night, when she let me take everything I wanted from her. She gave me the space I needed. And I just left. ‘See you’, I said.
No kiss, no hug – not even a handshake.
Nothing.
See you.
Like the biggest bastard ever.
Like the man I’m starting to resemble more and more with every passing day. The man I tried so hard to be; but maybe now it’s time to let him go.
I pull into her driveway and throw myself out of the car door as if the driver’s seat was on fire. Pacing up to her front door, I bang against the wood – if she doesn’t answer in the next ten seconds, I might actually break it down.
Just as I think I start to feel it splintering under my fingers, she opens it. I stand there, frozen with my arm hanging in the air, mid-knock, and I start to think that I’ve made a huge mistake, right from the start.
Christine is in front of me, in all her natural beauty. She’s wearing jogging bottoms, with an oversized sweatshirt slipping off one shoulder. Her hair is wild, as always, framing her blushing face and her wide, surprised eyes.
I swallow, but my heart won’t budge from my throat.
“I lied to you this morning.”
I spit the words out as quickly as I can, before I can start to run away again.
“I wasn’t asleep.”
“O-okay.”
I take a deep breath, ready to show her just how much of a dick I am.
“I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay there, in bed with you, watching your movements, your expressions. I wanted to count your breaths and wait for sunrise, to see whether the light could make you even more beautiful.”
“And did it?”
“Mmm?”
“Did it make me more… beautiful?”
I smile. “Fuck, yes.”
She smiles too, blushing an even deeper shade of red.
“I shouldn’t have lied to you, but then this morning, I saw your face when you found me in the kitchen.
I knew you weren’t expecting it, that you thought I’d just fuck off like I did the first time.
I saw it in your eyes and… I don’t know, I got scared to show you that I’m not always a bastard. I don’t know if that makes sense.”
“You have no idea how many things make sense to me.”
My God, does she always have to have the perfect response to everything?
“Well, I should have told you.”
“Thank you for telling me now.”
“But that’s not the only reason I came back.”
I gather up my courage and approach her, watching confusion shadow her expression.
“I wasn’t honest with you. I wasn’t myself.”
“I don’t get it.”
“I decided to only show you what I wanted you to see. I hid the rest – I hid myself.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s how I have to be. Otherwise I’ll get hurt again. I treat others badly so that they can’t do the same to me and… I wanted to hurt you. But then I saw you… I saw you, I felt you and… I don’t want to. I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”
“Ryan, you didn’t…”
“Shh,” I place my finger against her lips. “Please, don’t say anything. Otherwise I can’t do it.”
“Do what?” she asks. I can see that my blabbering monologue is starting to scare her.
“This,” I say, taking her face between my hands. “I just wanted this,” I continue, before placing my lips on hers.
Christine is shocked, her eyes wide, her arms hanging by her sides.
I seek out her lips with mine, scared and desperate – because I know how this is going to end. I know what this will cause us.
But I’m ready to fall to pieces.
I taste her lips, taking them breathlessly between my own. She’s giving me all the oxygen I need to feed my lungs, my brain – my heart.
I slide my hand slowly to the back of her neck and pull her in to me. Her body is against mine, the heat of her desire and of something else – something absurd, something irrational – which is pulsing through every heartbeat. It’s something I’ve denied myself for so long. Something I’ve denied her.
Christine parts her lips, and I let her taste take over me. It drugs me. I’m addicted.
My mind, my whole body gives in to her.
My heart gives in to her.
I give in to her hands, her mouth, her breathing. Her taste, her scent, her sweetness.
I simply give in to her.
Her hands slide down my face, caressing me timidly. Excitement hammers through my chest, almost making me lose my senses.
It’s like I’m drowning, unable to resurface, shipwrecked by the storm of emotion in my chest. But, for some strange reason, I’m not scared.
I feel fucking safe.
I feel like me.
Christine nibbles my lip with her teeth, sliding her tongue into my mouth, before suddenly pulling back and looking me in the eyes.
I gasp.
It’s just a fucking kiss.
She steps away from me, but I grab her waist and pull her back towards me. She wraps her arms around my neck as I delve my tongue into her mouth again, taking her breath away before giving it back to her, just as she’s doing to me.
Kissing Christine is like falling down and getting back up again a hundred times – and every time you get on your feet again, you feel stronger.
Kissing Christine is learning to breathe again. Like opening your eyes for the first time and seeing the world around you in a different light. Learning to distinguish colours and sounds, with the warmest shades and sweetest melodies.
Kissing Christine is learning to live again.
I pull away from her with a heavy heart, leaning my forehead against hers. I’m already getting withdrawal symptoms.
“Holy shit,” I say without thinking, making her burst out laughing. “I swear that was a compliment.”
She laughs again, her hands stroking my beard.
“Do you want to come in?” she asks, chewing on her swollen lip.
“Only if you promise to do that all night.”
She looks at me, confused.
“I want you to kiss me all night, Christine. I want you to give me back all the kisses I wouldn’t give you before. All the kisses you wanted, I want you to give them to me. And I don’t want to miss a single one. Is that okay?” I ask her, terrified of my own words and of what they mean.
She looks at me tenderly, smiling as if she knows she’s already won.
“Yes, Ryan. I really, really want to.”