Page 38 of Until

“Let’s put a pin in that,” he says. “If you won’t tell me about your date, at least tell me about the ball.”

“We didn’t go. I got there, and it was pure chaos outside. There were photographers there for some reason, and they were really rude.”

“Weren’t there photographers there last time?”

“No? Maybe? I really don’t know.” Thinking about how crazy everything was, I began hugging myself again. “I guess I should’ve warned you. I have an anxiety disorder. It’s not that bad, but there are times when it takes over, and I’m just along for the ride.”

He moves onto the couch next to me, concern across his face.

“I’m so sorry I put you in these situations that are causing you any grief. You should have told me. I would’ve come up with something different.”

“So, can I get out of this? You know I don’t want to do this. I know I owe you already for saving my grandmother, but there’s got to be another way. Something different I can do.”

“Why?” he asks, his tone serious and his voice gruff like the old Alex.

“Because I don’t want to break his heart.”

“Why?” he asks, his voice growing colder, deeper.

“Because it’s not right. Because I don’t want to hurt him. Because…”

“Because you think you care about him already. You think you can love him. Right?”

I nod my head.

“So again, I’m going to ask you. Why? Is it because of him, or is it because of you? Are you afraid of getting hurt, or are you afraid of hurting him?”

His questions are hurting my head, and his voice is making me wish I was anywhere but there.

“Well?”

“I don’t know!” I yell at him, my voice cracking. I stand up, ready to storm out of the room, but not until I give him a piece of my mind. “I’m already falling for him, okay? I’m not some whore who can turn it on and off as needed. I’m a woman who’s probably been way too sheltered in life to deal with someone like you.” I point at him, and he stands up a few feet from me. “Everyone dreams about being rich, or they have the old damsel in distress dream where the prince saves them. I don’t want that. I don’t want all of this. The stuff.” I wave my arms around. “It doesn’t mean anything. It’s fake. It’s a lie. And there’s nothing worse than lying to me.”

“Did he tell you his name?” he asks, his voice calmer.

“Yes. He would’ve given it to me last time, but I wouldn’t let him. His name is Ryan Stirling.”

“And that doesn’t ring any bells? Doesn’t sound familiar?”

I wince as his words stab me even though I don’t understand why.

“No, why? Should it?”

“What did he tell you he does for a living? He had to tell you something.”

“He’s a plumber.”

Alex scoffs. “I can’t believe him. And people say I’m fucked up.”

“What? What aren’t you telling me?”

“He’s lying to you,” he says, his voice calm.

“He’s lying? You’ll really say anything, won’t you? Like I can believe you. He brought me to a diner and made us burgers and fries.”

I let my words trail off as I replayed the night in my head. Did he say he was a plumber? Or did I just ask him? I’m not sure, and I’m not sure it matters either. Maybe it’s better if I think he lied to me. It’ll keep me from allowing myself to get too close to him.

“I’m going to bed,” I say.