19. RYA
19
RYA
A sob erupts from my throat as I hit the second-floor landing, but I continue down, down, down until I burst through the emergency exit on the first floor and into the night. Tears streaking down my cheeks, I gulp in cold air. It stings my lungs, but I flee without a fucking clue where I’m going. All I know is I couldn’t stay with Logan another second. Couldn’t go back to my room, either, because his drunk ass would’ve been pounding on the door five seconds later. I can’t talk to him right now.
It’s devastating to think my best friend is so fucked up he might not recall what he did. Our first kisses. Ruined. Our trust. Destroyed. All for what?
He dislikes his stepbrother to such a degree that Jaxon showing interest in me has been driving Logan out of his mind with— I pause. The only conclusion I can draw is that it has to be jealousy. Ridiculous, seeing as how we’ve been friends for quite some time now, and he’s never shown any interest in me. Never once made me think he had ever thought of us as anything but friends. And there’s no forgetting the night last year when he burst my bubble of any hope that the two of us would get together.
I saw him kissing that guy, Nathan Connelly, and it’d finally become clear why he didn’t want me. He likes dudes. It’d taken me forever to admit I needed to put a pin in the crush I had on him and just love him for who he was.
But now, I don’t know what to think. Except I won’t be the fucking toy he’s been ignoring any longer. Now that Jaxon wants to play with me, like a petulant child, Logan’s upset. It’s all kinds of wrong. He can’t possibly really want me. He simply doesn’t want Jaxon near me, and it’s making him crazy. So, what? He decides he likes girls—likes me like that —all of a sudden? Wants to experiment? I’m so fucking confused. It’s bullshit. Yet, I’m torn. I’ve wanted him for so long. But now, with a few ill-timed alcohol-fueled words, the entire structure of our relationship is crumbling. He’s wrecked me . He’s wrecked us .
I wrap my arms around my torso, my body violently shivering beyond anything I can control. Is it the emotion of what’s happening or the temperature? Probably both. Fuck. It is really cold tonight, and I ran out of the dorm without my coat. I don’t even know where I’m going. But does it matter? No. It really doesn’t. I shove my hands in my jeans pockets and let the tears free fall down my face as I continue on, practically blind to everyone and everything around me.
Turning a sharp corner, all the air expels from my lungs in a whoosh as I run headlong into something solid. Man chest. Oh, hell. How embarrassing. I can’t bear to look up with my face puffy and my nose red. Hands dart out and grasp my biceps to steady me, but I tear free and skirt around them. Breaking into a jog, another brokenhearted sob rips from me.
The next thing I know, an arm belts around my waist, lifting me off my feet and drawing me to a muscular body. “Rya. Stop.”
Confusion barrels into me, and I stiffen, immediately recognizing the voice. He loosens his hold, and I whirl around. My eyes connect with dark-chocolate ones. “Jaxon?” He’s still wearing the same dark jeans and black button-down from our date. He scans my features, and I sweep my fingers under my eyes, brushing the wetness from my cheeks. There’s a knot of emotion caught in my throat, and I do my best to ignore it, instead focusing on him. When he dropped me off an hour ago, he’d cryptically said he had something to take care of. He’d been upset and trying to hide it. I knew, but he wasn’t having it when I questioned whether he wanted to talk about it. “Are you just getting back? From whatever you had to do?”
He doesn’t answer, simply stares at me, his head cocked to the side as he steps closer, eliminating the short distance between us. “What’s wrong?” I open my mouth to protest, and he gives a firm shake of his head. “Who the fuck made you cry?” The growl of his voice shoots straight down my spine, and my eyes widen. My reaction is so visceral, I wonder if it’s something he’s practiced doing to elicit that response.
I draw in a breath, then let it escape through pursed lips. The reality of everything weighs on me, and I shake my head. “I can’t. I don’t—” Jaxon is possibly the last person I should be discussing this with. “Can you just—” My shoulders droop. I don’t know how to ask for what I need.
But a moment later, as if he’s capable of reading my mind, Jaxon wraps me in his arms, delivering a fierce hug. And I can’t help myself. I lean into it with all I have, resting my cheek against his pec and relishing in the pair of comforting arms that hold me close. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest lulls me into the calm I came out here seeking.
He rests his chin on top of my head before murmuring, “Looks like we both had a rough night. ”
“Why was your night shitty?” I mumble, in a bid to distract him.
Jaxon exhales sharply. “I’ll tell you. But not here. And only if you promise to tell me what’s got you upset, too.”
I ease back, looking up at him. “Where?”
“Well”—he hesitates, his lips quirking up on one side—“I’m guessing you don’t want to be in your room right now since you’re out here. So… my room? It’s fucking freezing out here. Lemme put this resident advisor training bullshit to use, would ya?”
I let my eyes wander over his features as he delivers a hopeful twist of his sinful lips that I can’t resist. I carefully nod. “Yeah. Okay.”
He tucks me under his arm, drawing me close to him, and we hurry back to the dorm. Jaxon lets us in, then rather than waiting on the elevator, we jog up the two flights of stairs. Just before he pushes open the door, I stop, biting my lip. He winces, and I don’t know if he realizes what the problem is or not, but without questioning my bizarre actions, he pokes his head out and looks around before holding his hand out to me. From there, we hurry down the hall opposite the one my room is on. It only takes us twenty seconds, but in that time, I feel very exposed and anxious. In my head, I know it’s because I don’t want to deal with Logan, should he be wandering the floor looking for me… and then I feel terrible for ha ving those thoughts. But I’d feel even worse if he knew I was with Jaxon right now.
As we enter his room and he closes the door to the outside world, I can’t help the crumpling of my face. I descend into another bout of tears, wet trails streaking down my face while I beat myself up. Each breath I attempt gets jammed up inside me until my chest burns with it.
“Hey. Hey, hey, hey .” Jaxon spins me around to face him. “What the fuck is going on?” he grits out, but all I can do is focus on the nose rings he wears. The slim circles of metal scream bad boy but are also so entirely suited to his face, I don’t know what I’d make of it if he took them out.
I blink, struggling for air. Shake my head. Feel the involuntary tremble of my lip as it quakes.
His hand comes up, catching my chin with his fingers. “Talk to me, Rya. Please. These tears are killing me.” He leans in, brushing his lips over one cheek, then the other, collecting the moisture before his tongue slips out to taste it. “Take a couple deep breaths for me, pretty girl.”
A laugh practically explodes from me as I roll my eyes at him. “I’m anything but pretty right now.” I sweep my fingers over one cheek, then the other. Sniffle. Fuck .
“Rya, you’re the prettiest mess I’ve ever seen.”
I shoot him a half smile and try to compose myself. “Yeah. Okay. I’m sorry. I’m just—” Another bit of laughter rolls from me, unbidden as he guides me over to the edge of the mattress.
He gestures to the bed. “We can sit. Talk.”
“Just what you wanted from the chick you went out with… what? An hour ago? Two?” I’ve lost track of time.
“It’s okay.” He takes a spot up toward the wall at the head of the bed.
I frown, noticing something I hadn’t before. His bed is a double. “Resident advisors have it good.”
He huffs out a laugh. “The bed you mean? Perk of the job, I guess. I sure as fuck wasn’t expecting it. I brought extra-long twin sheets with me and then had to order some to fit this mattress with quick shipping. Got extra pillows, too.” He pats the space next to him. “Want to sit here with me so you can lean against them? Might be more comfortable.”
Biting my lip, I turn and climb farther onto the soft bed, then nuzzle in next to him, making myself at home against his pillows. A deep sigh escapes me. “Thanks.”
Jaxon’s phone pings, and I’m content to let him check the message. I do wonder if he’s still getting messages from whoever had texted earlier that made him cut our date short.
And if I want to ask him anything about it, he’d made it clear earlier that I’d be spilling my guts, too. I can’t bring myself to talk about it again. I close my eyes, and the wounded look on Logan’s face floats in front of me, taunting me. I hit him. I can’t believe I did that. Cringing hard, I draw my legs up and lean forward, hugging them to my chest.
Jaxon sets his phone down, returning his focus to me. “Sorry. Had to check in. I told you I’d explain what happened earlier.” For a moment, I’m unsure he’s going to continue, but finally, he throws a hand out, like whatever he’s on the verge of revealing pisses him off. “It’s my mom. She’s diabetic. And she sometimes doesn’t have access to the insulin she needs.”
The rough exhalation from my lips and the way I physically feel my face fall must tell him everything he needs to know. Words would be redundant.
“Yeah. It fucking sucks.” He glances away for a second. “That’s what the text was about earlier. She was feeling like crap. I had to go make sure she was okay,” he mumbles.
Shit. I don’t know what to say, so I go for the obvious first. “I’m sorry she’s not feeling well.” He tips his head in acknowledgment, and I suck in a breath before putting a hand on his bicep and squeezing gently. “It must be awfully stressful for you.”
“It is. It’s kinda a constant worry in the back of my head. She’s mostly fine, but every once in a while—” He stops himself with a shake .
“What about your dad?” I ask, my teeth sinking into my lip. The way Jaxon stiffens tells me plenty. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that. I?—”
“Funny how you know more about me than I know about you,” he grumbles.
“Well. Just that your dad’s obviously married to Logan’s mom.” I angle my head to try to get a read on him, but he stares straight ahead, so I end up watching the twitch of his jaw muscle instead. “I didn’t know he was your dad. Just that he was Logan’s stepdad.”
He draws in a deep breath. “Not your fault my dad’s an asshat. Anyway, no, he’s not helpful with this particular situation. Not with anything, honestly.”
“That sucks.”
“Eh.” He shrugs. “He can go fuck himself.”
I clench my teeth hard at the vehement note in his voice. I feel terrible. “I’m sorry I brought him up.”
Jaxon blows out a hard breath. “Don’t worry about it,” he grits out. “But… now it’s time to answer my earlier question. Turnabout is fair play and all that.”
I wet my lips as I peek at him. There’s not a doubt in my mind where the conversation is heading, and it makes my stomach flip and my palms sweat. “Um. What was the question again?”
He finally looks directly at me, his brow arched as his eyes bore into mine. Normally, that’d make me uncomfortable, but Jaxon is different. I’ve never had anyone study me quite this intently before. But I like that about him. And I’m not bothered by the blunt, straightforward way he has about him. “Who the fuck made you cry, Rya?”
I chew on my lip for a second, debating whether to give him the whole truth or just bits of it. Softly, I whisper, “Logan.”
In the following few seconds, Jaxon’s quiet, possibly waiting for me to continue with more of an explanation, but his jaw is twitching again, and somehow I think his outward calm is masking what’s really in his head, no matter how unfazed he seems by my admission. “Come here.” He slips his arm around my waist and gently tugs until he’s gathered me close to his side. I guess I didn’t notice when he scooted farther down the bed because we’re now lying together, and it creates a storm of anxious butterflies in my stomach.
I’m still struggling to decide whether or not I find this awkward when his lips move in the hair at the top of my head. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Knowing it won’t do a lot of good to lay everything out there—not for Jaxon, anyway—I’m unsure how to answer. He’s definitely played a role in what’s been happening with Logan. And Logan—he’s my best friend—and even though he made me feel shitty and confused, that doesn’t mean my loyalty to him has flown out the window. Slowly, I work through the pieces I feel comfortable sharing. “He doesn’t usually drink, but he was wasted when I went to talk to him. That was part of the issue. He wasn’t acting like himself. We hadn’t had a chance to talk since he didn’t meet me yesterday, and then you showed up for our date—” I draw in a breath. “I think that really messed with his head and set all of this in motion. Everything’s gotten weird and really fucked up between us.”
“He obviously did something, though.” Jaxon’s voice is gravelly, a hint of irritation hiding there in the low timbre.
“He—” My brows crash together, uncertainty swamping me. Finally, I blurt, “He wasn’t himself. I slapped him.” The trembling in my body is increasing the more I force myself to think back on it. “I don’t know what to make of him lately.” He’s confused. I know he is. Another tear boldly sneaks its way from the corner of my eye, and before I can brush it away, Jaxon does it for me. “It doesn’t make any sense. He couldn’t like… me … not like that.”
But then my mind wanders back to earlier this morning, making me second-guess everything. My stupid heart wants to believe in Logan. If only being with Jaxon weren’t so fucking effortless.