Page 103 of The Right Move

The dance floor is crowded already, but Ryan and I find our way in. Turning me to face him, he drapes both my arms over his shoulders, running the pads of his fingertips against my skin as he does. His hands overtake my waist before they curve around my hips and settle lower than I expected them to.

As he pulls me in closer, I can’t help but notice how well we fit together, how perfectly we mold even though we’re opposites in every other way.

I’m disorganized. He’s a clean freak.

I’m a romantic. He’s a cynic.

I’m an extrovert. He’s the dictionary definition of a recluse.

I want my future to involve love and family. He’s adamant about spending the rest of his days alone.

But here, with him holding me, we don’t feel all that different.

Tracking Zanders and Stevie on the dance floor, I rest my head on Ryan’s shoulder, swaying with him as I watch the newly engaged couple. They light each other up, brighter than I’ve ever seen two other people shine.

“What are you thinking about?” Ryan asks softly.

“They’re so in love.”

I feel Ryan’s neck turn to find who I’m watching. He chuckles. “I think that’s an understatement, Ind.”

“It looks nice.”

Knowing my roommate, who refuses to acknowledge any form of love, platonic or otherwise, I fully expect him to ignore me or give me a hard time for romanticizing my friends’ lives. Instead, he exhales a nostalgic sigh and says, “Yeah. It does.”

Pulling away to better look at him, I keep my arms around his shoulders, my fingers mindlessly tracing the fade of his haircut. “Have you ever been in love?”

“Once.”

“In college?”

He nods.

“Did it feel like that?” I motion towards his sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law.

“No, it didn’t.”

Ryan rarely talks about his past, and I don’t want to fuck it up by prying more, but at the same time, I want to know everything about him.

My laugh puts a small smile on Ryan’s lips. “What’s so funny?”

“All this time I thought you didn’t believe in love.”

“I believe in love, but I’m a realist. You could love someone with your entire being, but it doesn’t guarantee they’ll love you in return. It’s a gamble, and I don’t like to make bets I might lose.”

It’s his version of control, I realize, never letting himself feel deeply enough to wager getting hurt. Never letting himself feel at all. I, on the other hand, just went all in and lost on a single hand, but I’m already thinking about taking a seat at the table for another round.

Did she not love him back? Is that what happened? Clearly not, knowing how she attempted to use him. I’m not sure how anyone who was given the opportunity to know this man, to be loved by this man, wouldn’t love him in return.

Did she realize how special she was to be chosen by him?

Did Alex not feel special to be loved by me? It sure seems that way, otherwise, why else would my unwavering love be thrown by the wayside?

Loving someone doesn’t ensure that sentiment is reciprocated, but even though I’ve tried and failed, I hope one day I find it again. I hope one day Ryan will wish it for himself too.

His thumb draws mindless circles on my lower back. “How are you still such a romantic, huh? After everything.”

“I’ve got to believe that there’s more than what I had, if you can even call that love anymore. And that’s exciting, hopeful even, to believe there’s better out there. Call me a dreamer. Call me naive, I don’t care. I call myself optimistic.”

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