Page 127 of Come to Me
We swim until we're both exhausted.
When we get back to the hotel, Luke crashes. I've never seen him fall asleep so easily. Hell, I almost never see him asleep. But, there he is, asleep.
I try and get comfortable. I read on the couch. I brush my teeth and change into pajamas. I even flip through TV channels with the volume turned way down.
But I don't get anywhere near tired enough to sleep.
I try for a while, but it's in vain. Even next to Luke, with his body warming the bed, I still can't get comfortable.
The time difference is wonky. I'd be waking up in New York. But it's more than that.
Something is wrong, something is missing.
I can't stop thinking about Nicholas's words.We've spent so much time together, but I still feel like I haven't even scratched the surface with you.
Luke has been backing off. He's been afraid. And I've pushed away all his attempts to reach me.
I need to break this cycle somehow.
I just... don't know how, don't know where to start. I could call Laurie, use her as a sounding board.
And I would. In any other situation. In this case... as wonderful as she is, she doesn't know all of me. Not really. There's a lot of dark corners I like to keep buried.
But there's someone who does. Someone who might be able to shed some light on the situation.
Ryan was my friend for years before he was my boyfriend. If anyone knows how hard it is to put up with me, it's him.
I push off the couch and look for my phone. It's still early in Los Angeles, really early, but this might be my only chance before Luke is awake.
I deleted Ryan's contact a long time ago, but he's had the same number since high school. I punch it into the phone and then just stare at the digital display.
I can't quite bring myself to hit "dial."
Luke will be jealous if he finds out. He'll misunderstand. He'll think it's something different than it is.
I move to the bathroom and lock the door behind me.
It's not a secret. I'll tell him later. But I can't deal with an inquisition right now. Not after dodging sleep all night.
I dial.
A few rings and Ryan answers. "I hope it's you and not your jealous boyfriend."
So he's not wasting any time with pleasantries.
"It's me. And he's my fiancé."
"Ah." His voice is steady, like he's remembering a pasta dish has mushrooms. Like this means nothing to him. "Do you have any clue what time it has in Los Angeles?"
"Later than it is in Hawaii. And I'm sure you're in the office by now."
He doesn't respond to that, which tells me I'm on the money.
"Hawaii? If you're calling me at five A.M., that vacation must be going well," he says, his voice sly.
"It's... complicated."
"It's never complicated, Alyssa. That's just a convenient excuse for behaving inappropriately."
