Lying Out Loud(55)

Again with the shiver.

Everyone must’ve finished their beers at once, because all of a sudden the kitchen became a high-traffic area. Ryder took my cup from me so I could hop off the counter without spilling. He gestured for me to follow him, and we wove our way through the pack of thirsty partyers, darting into the hallway to avoid another run-in with Chris.

Somehow, we ended up in an empty bedroom.

I took my cup back from Ryder and sat down on the edge of the bed. “So,” I said. “What’s the verdict on your first Hamilton party?”

“Not too shabby,” he said.

“But I’m sure it doesn’t even compare to the parties back in DC, right?”

“This party is much better than the ones in DC.”

“Oh, come on,” I said, setting my cup on the nightstand. “That’s not even remotely possible. You partied with politicians’ kids. I watch enough TV to know it gets wild. Plus, you’ve got money. Which means better booze, at the very least.”

“Maybe the parties back home had some advantages,” he agreed, putting his own water down before sitting next to me.

Really close to me.

“But,” he continued, his eyes on me in that way again. That way that gave me chills and made my face burn all at once. I was suddenly very aware of where we were — an empty bedroom, on a bed. “The company here is much better.”

“Ryder,” I said, even though every inch of me was fighting me, trying to keep me silent. But I couldn’t put it off anymore. “I need to talk to you … about Amy.”

He shook his head. “Amy is the last thing I want to talk about right now.”

I’d been dying to hear those words for months. Dying for him to look at me the way he was right now. But it was too late. I’d promised Amy, sworn I’d tell him the truth tonight.

I swallowed. “Listen —”

“Sonny, wait,” he said. “I just … I need to …”

Then he kissed me.

And his mouth definitely didn’t taste like root beer. It was mint.

One of his hands was on my neck, the other on my knee. I didn’t move — couldn’t breathe or think — as his lips moved over mine. I was stunned. Paralyzed.

But when he pulled away, even just an inch, it felt like I might die.

“Was … was that okay?” he asked. “Should I not have done that?”

No. He definitely shouldn’t have. Because I needed to tell him the truth.

Now.

Just say it, I told myself. Before this goes any further.

“Sonny?” His voice was quiet, nervous. “I’m sorry. I should’ve asked. Or just not … I didn’t know I was going to do it until —”

“Shut up,” I said. I grabbed him, a hand on either side of his face, and pulled him back toward me for another kiss. My heart was pounding and everything I’d wanted over the past few months was spinning in my head.

This time, when our lips met, I wasn’t paralyzed at all.

*

Amy was already in bed when I slipped in that night, but she wasn’t asleep.

“Hey,” she murmured as I climbed over her and into my side of the huge bed. I’d been sleeping in here again since coming back from Tennessee. “How did it go?”

“Great,” I said.

We’d made out in the bedroom for a while before Chris walked in on us. And then, when Ryder walked me out to my car, he kissed me again. I was sure it was supposed to be a quick good-night kiss, but it had lasted much longer, my back pressed against Gert’s driver’s side door, my arms around Ryder’s neck.

I’d had to speed home to make curfew.

I could still feel the ghost of Ryder’s lips on mine, his phantom hand on my hip. I shivered and hid my face in the pillow, though in the darkness, Amy could never have seen my blush.

“Really?” Amy asked, her tired voice going up an octave with excitement. “That’s a relief. So you told him the truth?”

Everything was going right. Amy wasn’t mad at me anymore. Ryder had kissed me. Like, a lot. I had everything I wanted. Everything I’d been hoping for since this started in September. But it all could’ve fallen down with a little gust of wind. One wrong move, and I would lose everything.

So I did what I do best. What I always did when I was scared.

“Yeah,” I lied. “I told him everything.”





By Monday morning, I was dealing with some serious post-make-out regret. Not regret about the kissing specifically — that had been awesome — but about how it had come to pass. Namely, me wussing out on telling Ryder the truth.

And now that I knew exactly what I was going to be missing, telling him would be even harder.

But I had to. Because that hot make-out session didn’t change anything.

So when I walked into history class that morning, I was determined to do the right thing. No matter how anxious the whole thing made me.

“Hey,” I said, sliding into the seat behind his. “So … we should talk about what happened Friday.”


Ryder had already swiveled in his seat so we were facing each other. “I was actually thinking the same thing.”

For a moment, my heart sank. He regretted the kiss, too, I thought. But for completely different reasons. He probably couldn’t believe he’d done it. He probably didn’t like me that much. I was poor and less attractive. But we’d been dancing and laughing and then we were alone in a stranger’s bedroom …