“You called?”
She nods her head causing my thumb to rub up and down against her face. “I did every day for about six months until I finally gave up. I knew you had run away that night, but had hoped you had your phone and could tell me where you were.”
I pull my hand away and her eyes drop, telling me she’s disappointed that I’m no longer touching her. She just told me that she called me on my birthday. The same day I smashed my phone to bits and pieces and made a move on Dylan. Everything changed that day for me.
“I didn’t run away, I went to live with Dylan. My dad…“ I shake my head. I hate speaking about him and hate even more that we never were able to reconcile before he passed away. “My dad and I got into a fight that day and he tried to choke me. I fought back, but my mom sent me to Dylan’s and I stayed there until we moved here after graduation.”
I still can’t get past the fact that she called. “You called?”
She nods and takes another sip of her beer. “I hated myself so much back then. We had this show the night before your birthday in Jackson. Ian did it on purpose and all I could think about was that night we met and everything that had happened. I messed up the show so bad. Alex had gone to your house to get you, but your parents told her you had run away. I was a wreck. Ian got so pissed at my performance that he told the press your name. I so hoped that they’d find you, but that didn’t happen. The next day, I turned your phone back on and texted you and waited for something back, but nothing ever happened.
“Finally, about six or seven months later I started seeing a therapist and she has helped a lot. I’ve made a lot of changes in my life and I’m happy now, content.”
Is one of those changes forgetting about me? I want to ask her but know I have no right.
I chug down my beer and set it down on her coffee table. “Do you have more?”
“Yeah, I’ll get you one.” She picks up my empty bottle and retreats to her kitchen. She’s back with four more, determined to keep us talking. I notice that when she sits down, she’s a little closer and asking for trouble if she thinks me and beer are going to make for a gentleman tonight.
CHAPTER 44
Hadley
Having Ryan in my apartment is surreal. I thought about bringing him home so many times that to actually have him sitting on my couch is indescribable. He’s like a fantasy come true.
I didn’t mean to bring back four beers from the refrigerator, but I didn’t want to keep getting up for more and I don’t want to give him an excuse to leave.
“Are you still singing?”
I choke on my beer when he asks. How can he not know? “Don’t tell me you still don’t listen to music.”
He looks at me like I’ve offended him. I set down my beer and face forward. His hand halts my movements, so still. “I don’t listen to your music, Hadley. I listen to heavy metal or whatever’s playing in the dugout. I don’t watch MTV or awards shows and I definitely don’t read magazines unless it’s Sports Illustrated.”
“Dugout?”
“I work for the Yankees.”
My mouth drops in surprise. It’s not that I didn’t expect Ryan to do great things. I just can’t believe he’s working for the Yankees. “Wow, that’s really great, Ryan. I’m proud of you!”
“Are you?” He doesn’t hide the underlying tone in his voice. I lean closer just so I can feel the heat radiate between us.
“I am,” I say quietly. I want him to kiss me again. I want him to take me and mark me as his own.
“You hurt me when you left. For the first time in my life, I cried. I hated myself for feeling weak. I hated you for making me feel that way. I told myself I’d never cry over another girl again, but sitting here with you, I feel like I’m going to cry because half of me wants to tell you to take a flying leap and I don’t know if I could say those words to you and mean them. The other half wants to pick you up and do all the things I wanted to that night in the car, but I’m afraid that if we did, I’d walk out that door and never see you again and I’m not sure I can handle that either.”
I move closer so I can thread my fingers through his hair. It’s so soft. I’ve missed this. He closes his eyes and leans into my touch.
“I had a girlfriend. She had blond hair and brown eyes. She treated me well and I thought I loved her until I closed my eyes and thought about dancing with her at my wedding and when I opened them, she wasn’t my bride.”
“Who is?” my voice breaks when I ask.
He doesn’t answer, just turns away from me. I sit back, breaking the connection we had going.
“To answer your earlier question, yes, I’m still singing. I just finished an overseas tour.”
“That’s good, and how’s your manager?”
“She’s great actually.” He looks at me with his eyebrow raised. “Ian was fired a long time ago.”