Ch. 20
POV: KORI
Ryland makes a right out of the kitchen and walks into the foyer. We pass the front door and enter the dining room, and I'm again struck by the size and beauty of it. The room is lit naturally from the six different windows, and a brilliant chandelier hangs from the ceiling. The dining table is a rich mahogany and must sit at least 30 people, and I run my hand over the smoothness of the wood. Ryland comes to a stop, turning to face me.
"I'm sorry for what I said," I say quickly. "I don't think you...lured me here. That was poor word choice."
He says nothing, staring at me beneath lowered brows.
"It's just...well, this is weird for us, yeah?" I keep talking, hoping that he'll eventually cut off my nervous rambling. "This...thing between us, whatever it is."
"Whatever it is," he repeats.
"Yeah. Last night was really fun, but you never said that things won't go back to how they were."
"How they were."
I nod numbly, wringing my hands together. "Yes, how they were." He continues staring at me, and I clear my throat. "Ryland," I say, "I don't hate you, okay? I don't think I have for a while."
"Well, that's good," he says, shrugging. "It'll make doing this project a hundred times easier. But you'll have to tell Grace that her favorite source of drama is gone now that you don't despise me anymore."
"Ryland." I shake my head. "I'm serious."
He crosses his arms, shifting his weight to one side. "No, you aren't."
"I am!" I spread my hands wide. "We don't have to fight or yell at each other anymore. Don't you see?"
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POV: RYLAND
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Nothing she's saying makes sense.
After she kissed me and then ghosted me, I spent days wondering if I was going crazy. Wondering if I'd imagined her kissing me at the base of a tree the night my life felt like it was falling apart all over again. I'd finally snapped at the party, and for one night, everything was perfect. But this morning had been like a fresh slap in the face. The burning realization of what my role is supposed to be in her life.
But even though it had been for just one night, I'd had her.
I've spent years restraining myself. Years trying not to picture her every time I closed my eyes. I was young and careless and an idiot, and I fell in love with her, anyways.
I realized how I felt in the eighth grade. Sometimes, though, I wish I'd never figured it out.
I was 15, two years after being shipped away, the first time I ever let myself dream of the possibility of her, only because I never thought I'd see her again. She kept me alive every night, just knowing that she was safe and cared for. That she was in Wavemeet, even if I wasn't.
And now she's telling me this.
"We'll finish memorizing the script and present our project on Friday," Kori continues, completely oblivious to the raging panic rising in my head. "And I'll help you with your mom as much as I can, and the rumors too."
I straighten as her words finally sink in. "The rumors."
Her cheeks flush, but she nods defiantly. "Yes, the rumors. I want to help you, Ryland. You disappeared for four years, and you're trying to act like nothing's wrong, but I know something's up. I've seen how people look at you. I’ve seen the way they stare, how silent they get, the way they scramble out of the way when you walk by. I want to help you. If we just-"
"That's none of your business," I growl. "None. You don't know anything."
Like I can just tell her the truth. As if I could just admit everything out loud. Like every police officer in the state wouldn't hang me from a 20-foot-pole if they knew the truth.
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POV: KORI
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"We can focus on the project for now, if that's easier," I say, stepping towards him. He doesn't move, just staring at me. "And we'll worry about the rest later, okay? Deal?"
"I heard you the first time."
I keep walking towards him until I have to lean my head back to keep eye contact. If I reached out my hand, I could touch him now.
His eyes widen as I close the distance between us, and he swallows. "Kiwi-" he starts.
"Kori," I say, my eyes trained on his throat.
"Merrick," he says through gritted teeth. "This is stupid, and I'm really not in the mood for it."
"What's stupid? That I like everything that happened last night more than the last decade of fighting?"
"Yes!" He huffs, throwing his arms up in frustration. "Do you even hear yourself? Last night was just me doing my annual act of kindness. Don't go all Beauty and the Beast on me just because my bedsheets are nice."
"Don't be an asshole right now." I point at him, placing my index finger in the middle of his chest. "You kissed me last night. Like, really kissed me."
"You kissed me first."
I wish he'd stop bringing that up. "Okay, but then you brought me to your house and gave me a spare set of your clothes so that I wouldn't have to spend the night alone in my house," I remind him. "And then you let me sleep in your bed, with you also in that bed."
"You're missing a lot of context there. You were drunk off your ass."
My mouth drops open, but nothing comes out. I slowly close it.
Ryland's jaw clenches, waiting for me to respond.
Then, I pull my hand back like he's physically shocked me. "You...still hate me."
The words make my chest burn with shame.
Of course. Of course.
By kissing him that night, I'd crossed a line. And then to top it off, I'd ignored him for days afterwards. That was probably one of the most stressful times of his life, and I'd done nothing to help him. Of course he would retaliate. Haven't we always played this game? I get him, he gets me back twice as hard.
I'm an idiot for thinking differently.
And then Ryland's suddenly reaching out, and he catches my falling hand in his.
He looks more surprised than I do at that.
"I'm sorry," he says, swallowing again, "I didn't-I don't-" He runs his free hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated grunt. "Listen. It's not...it's not that I don't prefer all of this. Seriously." He shakes his head, his hair sliding over his brows. "But you don't understand. You don't want me. You can't want me."
"I know I don't want to fight with you anymore."
"There's a big difference between those two statements."
"Isn't that enough, Ryland? Is that not a start?"
"So what, then?" Ryland tugs at my hand, and I step forward a little. Now the tips of my shoes are touching his. His chest rises heavily as he hisses, "You want a murderer as your boyfriend, now?"
I stare at him in shocked silence. I think of all the whispers and rumors I've heard about him over the years. I think about Austin and his family, and Hannah, and how no one knows the truth about what happened. I think about Ryland's dad at the hospital, and how he accused Ryland of ruining everything.
And then I remember Archer's words from the kitchen: "People will get hurt! People he's been trying to protect for years!"
I think of all the times I saw Ryland and Hannah talking in school, before the accident and now that he's back. How easily the conversations always seemed to flow. I think of the wild look in Ryland's eyes the night he found out his mom was in the hospital, how in pain he'd look as he collapsed against that tree in the woods. I think of the sour look that always flashed across Archer's face anytime Austin's name was mentioned over the past few years. Never sadness or pity, always...something else. Something like anger.
You want a murderer as your boyfriend, now?
Ryland's words ring through my head, and it's a full minute before I finally respond.
"Murder suspect," I spit out, the words ripping holes in my chest. "If even that. Austin's not dead. But that...don't you ever say that to me again. Ever. I don't believe that, Ryland. Not for a single second. I never have."
Ryland's eyes widen, and his voice cracks when he speaks. "I'm not...I'm not safe, Kiwi. I'm not who you think I am."
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POV: RYLAND
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Kori's throat works as she swallows, and fire licks up my spine. She looks down at our hands, intertwining our fingers slowly. Her other hand touches my other wrist, then skates up my arm to rest on my bicep. She looks up at me and leans forward, and I hold my breath, pulse thundering. Her touch is everywhere, and it's intoxicating. I could get drunk off the feel of her alone.
"What do you want?" she asks, her voice low.
What do I want? That's not the question. The question is what do I get?
Kori leans even closer. "What do you want, Ryland? Because I'm right here. And I don't care about anything else, alright? I don't care about anything but what you have to say. I know what's going on here now. And I'm sorry it took me so long, but I understand now. We always eventually know what's going on with each other, don't we?"
When she says the words I said to her in the parking lot days ago, it hurts like a physical punch to the gut.
"You called me a coward then," she murmurs, still staring at her hand in mine. "You were right. But I'm here now. If this...if this was all just some sick ploy, I..." Her voice trails off, but then Kori squares her shoulders and looks up at me, her green eyes filled with determination. "These past few weeks have been really good, Ryland. So, if this is something, you've got to tell me. Because I can't keep playing this game forever. Not with you. Not anymore."
Her words nearly bring me to my knees.
I can't stop remembering her kisses. Every one of them is branded on my lips. Kissing her and being kissed back. The way she tilts her head and wraps her arms around my neck. The way she smiles when she kisses, and the way she giggles when my lips touch the place where her neck and shoulder meet. The way she holds my face in her hands when we kiss lightly, like I'm made of glass and I might break.
Like she won't let me break.
Kori's still staring at me, waiting for an answer.
What do you want, Ryland?
My hands are trembling. I hope she can't tell. I think I'm humming Beethoven, but I'm not sure if it's out loud or in my head.
I wish I could tell her, but I can't. I know I can't, and I knew it yesterday, and I've known it for years.
Though he may not know it, my father mentally beat the interest in intimacy out of me when I was young. After finding out how he ditched my mom after getting her pregnant, then hovered over her and haunted her for years, and all the arguments between him and Archer's mom that I caught pieces of over the years when I lived with them, I swore off of love. I didn't want any part in it because he was a part of me. Add in the anxiety, the panic attacks, and the anger issues? I'm a complete mess.
I still remember how scared Archer looked that day everything fell apart. I think about the days that led up to that moment that summer, the low spiral deeper and deeper down into my anger. I think of Archer, and my mom, and Hannah, and Austin fucking Montgomery.
I never want to be out of control like that ever again.
There are only a few things that I've ever had control of in my life. The idea of becoming like my father, hurting people the way he does, makes me want to vomit. That burning hatred for him helped me learn to control myself. That's something I can prevent.
Because when people care, they're vulnerable and they make mistakes. And powerful people take advantage of that.
I'm the perfect example.
All of that aside, I can't set myself up for a heartbreak. Not when there's the possibility of me going through the worst pain in my entire life if I have to say goodbye to my mother soon. There's no way I can give someone a piece of my soul if there's a chance of me having to say goodbye to her again, this time forever. I can't do that to myself, and I won't do it to Kori.
You absolute dumbass. She already has your entire soul, your entire being, everything you are.
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POV: KORI
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There's a lump forming in my throat, and I know I'm out of words to say. I'm hoping what I said was enough.
"How can you even trust me?" he finally whispers. "How can you trust me after everything that's happened? How can you say...that you don't believe it?"
"I don't know," I whisper back. It's the truth, as dumb as it sounds. "I just...don't, alright?"
Ryland's eyes flutter shut as he shakes his head, muttering to himself. His shoulders sag, his head droops down, and he places his forehead against mine. Heart thumping in triumph, I release his hand and bicep and wrap my arms loosely around his waist.
"I'm sweaty," he mumbles, eyes still shut.
"I don't care." I really don't.
"Your father hates me." He leans forward more and drops his head onto my shoulder, breathing deeply.
"He hates everything," I say, reaching up with one hand and combing it through his hair, keeping the other wrapped around his waist. His hair is thick and rich, but it slips through my fingers easily enough. I lightly scrape my nails across his scalp, and a groan tumbles from Ryland's mouth. "I'd be more surprised if he didn't hate you."
Ryland leans back, an odd expression on his face. I drop my hands to my sides. "Kiwi, I can't-" he starts.
My phone buzzes, startling us both. I quickly pull it out to read the text:
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Kansas: All good? How was last night?
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A grin instantly spreads across my face, my thumbs tapping quickly to shoot off a response. "It's Kansas," I tell Ryland. He opens his mouth, then closes it with a frown.
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Kori: Yep all good!! I'm definitely feeling the effects of last night tho :(
Kansas: I'm going to choose to believe that that just means you're sad that the party is over, and not that you're hungover
Kansas: I hope you were a responsible adult who drank water all night and stayed ten feet away from anyone with a penis
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I glance up at Ryland at that comment. He raises an eyebrow.
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Kori: Absolutely. You know me so well.
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TO BE CONTINUED...
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Two exams this week and a bajillion things due. I miss spring break.
-Zuffy
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