Lost in You (Lost in You 1)

He hasn’t moved and doesn’t motion for us to sit down or anything. Maybe this is a mistake and he’s going to dismiss me like I did him. As much as it would hurt, I deserve it. That is another thing therapy taught me.

I have to fight every ounce of my body’s will to keep from jumping into his arms. He wouldn’t catch me. He’d let me fall flat on my face and maybe offer a hand to help me up. I’m nothing to him except a reminder of mistrust and pain.

But I’m going to take a chance because I have to know if he’s the one.

“Hi.” I close my eyes and mentally chide myself for being ridiculous. Hi seems like such a simple thing to say and for this situation I need something profound and worthy of a response.

I look behind me and find Cole and Alex sitting at the bar. They aren’t watching me fumble through this meeting. They're letting me fall on my ass without an audience.

I clear my throat and try again. “Hi, Ryan, it’s good to see you.”

His eyes rake over my body, up and down, back and forth. His lower lip is being torn apart as he gnaws on it. I so desperately want to reach out and pull it out of his mouth and soothe it with my touch, but I lost that right a long time ago.

“I never thought I’d see you again.” His words stab me right in my heart. He’s right. Why would he have any thought of ever seeing me again after what I did to him?

This isn’t a conversation I want to have in a crowded pub with people lingering around listening but pretending not to. I nod and acknowledge that yeah, I didn’t expect to see him either.

“You look really good.” He looks down at himself and back at me. There is no hint of happiness in the way he’s talking to me.

“Four years does that to some people.”

Ouch. Clearly this was a mistake. He doesn’t want to talk to me. I can finally close this chapter in my book. I was keeping it open in the hope that one day we’d cross paths again and could at least be friends, but I guess time doesn’t heal all wounds.

I look over at his friend, Dylan, now clearly his girlfriend, only to find her staring at me. I can’t tell if she’s amused or threatened by me. Either way, she wins.

“It was good seeing you, Ryan.” I nod slightly and sidestep, brushing him lightly as I walk by. I weave in and out of the tables, not bothering to call out to Alex and Cole. I just need to get away. I pull my coat off the rack and slide my arms into it as I walk out the door. I don’t care about the weather. I just need to get out of here before I break down in front of everyone.

I don’t need a reminder of what I did to him. It’s fresh in my mind and my songs. The brief time we spent together, it’s so vivid I could draw it out picture by picture. I have no doubt he’s my soul mate. I’m just not his.

The pounding footsteps behind me make me walk faster. I’ve never felt unsafe in the city before and right now I feel very close to running except I’m at the steps to my apartment. With my foot on the first step, I tell myself not to look behind me.

“Hadley, wait,” he says as he grabs my arm, stopping me dead in my tracks. I step back down and face him. He’s wearing a sweatshirt. No hat or gloves to keep him warm. “I froze back there. I didn’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

“It’s good to see you too, by the way. A little shocking, but still good.”

“How long have you been in New York?”

“Just over four years. We moved after graduation.”

“We?”

“Dylan and I. Do you remember her?” He looks over his shoulder like she should be right behind him. She’s probably lurking in the bushes, waiting to pounce on me for talking to her man.

“Yeah, I remember her.”

“We have a place not too far from here. Well, five or six blocks away, but still close.”

Great, they live together. The question is at the forefront of my mind. I’m dying to know so I ask. “How long have you been together?”

He laughs lightly and shakes his head. “We aren’t together. We just live together. It’s cheaper to have a roommate.”

My body sighs with relief although I’m stupid to think he’s single. He’s far too good looking to be single. He steps forward, close enough that I can smell his cologne. His hands encase my cheeks so fast I don’t know what’s happening. Before I can react, his lips are on mine and I’m giving him all the access he wants. I’m no longer in control of my body. It’s taken over and submitted to him.

He kisses me fast and urgent at first, before slowing down and taking his time. He places small kisses on my lips, resting his forehead against mine.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. I’m not. I’m so not sorry that he just kissed me and hate that he is. “I just had to know.”