Page 37 of Lost Boy
“Oh, I need to ask you something about class,” Ryder blurts. “Can we go to your room for a minute?”
I stare at him for a moment too long. He nods to the side, indicating that I should follow him. I finally get my legs to work and trail after him upstairs.
“We’ll leave in an hour! Pack a bag, Fallon!” Uncle Joel shouts after us.
I guess we’re having a sleepover at the Cruz residence tonight.
* * *
I shut my bedroom door behind us. Ryder strolls over to my closet, grabbing a brand new gym bag with our school’s athletic department logo imprinted on the side and tossing it to the bed. “Pack light, just some clothes. You can borrow my toiletries and stay in my room. I have a king-sized bed, but I still have my old bunk beds in the corner that I never got rid of. I blame Cole and Jamison. They won’t let me.” Ryder’s smile is so charming and wide that I have to glance away, my skin prickling with new sensations and unfamiliar desires.
Bunk beds?
Strange at eighteen, but I’ve slept on way worse.
“Okay,” I agree. “Can I smoke at your place?” I’m counting on the fact that it’s my birthday and this is all I’ve asked for.
“Sure, dude. We have a few balconies with killer lake views, and we sort of live out in nature.”
“Acadia Lake?” I ask, somewhat interested. I haven’t seen the town’s namesake yet, and the fact that Ryder’s house is near the water makes me nervous. I don’t know why he’d like me if he’s that wealthy.
“Yeah. We’ve lived in that house my whole life. No one wants to be there anymore, though, not since Mom left.”
Ryder clears his throat like he didn’t mean to let that slip, but I don’t press him about it because I sure as hell don’t want him asking aboutmymom.
“We have a fire pit in the backyard, a dock, two jet skis, and a speedboat.”
I eye him speculatively. All that, yet he hates to be there? His mom must be shittier than mine to ruin a place like that for him. “Nice” is all I can manage at the moment.
Ryder gives me his easy-going smile, always cool, calm, and collected. Full of happiness and joy. He’s sunshine and light, but I’m just darkness. The miserable, trap-you-in-it’s-clutches type of dark that people avoid. He doesn’t need me. None of them do.
I open my desk drawer and reach in the back, grabbing the eighth Ryder gave me at the party and the pack of blueberry haze blunt wraps. I shove the contraband into the inside zipper of my shitty backpack from home.
My notepad and Sharpies are already inside. I like to write with more than just black, and I got a new rainbow pack at the drugstore the other day. Blue is my second favorite, but there’s something extra satisfying about the severe lines of thick black ink that really allow me to pour the pain out, leaving only numbness in its wake. The weed helps too. Alcohol. Anything really. I try to stick to music, though. Words. Because Icannotbecome my mother.
I’m lost in my head, not paying attention until a tall, strong body crowds me from behind, pressing his full length into my back and curling around me to whisper into my ear.
“I didn’t really come in here to help you pack, Fallon.”
Ryder wraps his arms around my torso from behind, hugging me tightly with my arms pinned to my sides. He buries his face into the crook of my neck, breathing deeply.
“Mmm. Fucking strawberries.”
I shiver involuntarily at the feel of his breath tickling my sensitive skin. His full lips press into the tender flesh where my neck meets my shoulder, kissing and licking and sucking.
Fuck. It feels good. And that’s part of the problem.
Ryder tries to make mefeel.
I don’t want to feel.
The past. It haunts me.
But I push it away and let the pleasure take over instead.
I drop my head back, allowing him to devour my neck, probably leaving more marks on my pale skin. My chest is heaving, and my lungs are demanding more oxygen. I’m dizzy as Ryder spins us, backing me into the wall and settling his knee between my thighs.
“What—” I don’t get a chance to finish my question, and I can’t even remember what it was going to be. Ryder gently lowers his mouth to mine, careful of my injuries, and kisses me tenderly. He slides his hands down my waist, gripping tightly, and flashes of last night pop in and out of my brain as he guides me to rock into his leg, cupping my jaw with his other hand.
