I’m taken aback. Not because he’s ultimately wrong, but because he’s put all the wrong emphasis on the why. “I’m not scared of being cut off.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Then why not just tell him that you’re going to date whoever you want?”
How did this get turned around on me so quickly? My skin heats, my face prickles hot. “It’s not that simple. Why didn’t you just tell your dad you didn’t want to play football?” It’s out of my mouth before I can stop it.
/> Ryder jumps to his feet, towers over me. “That’s not at all the same.”
“Isn’t it?” No backing down now. “It’s not fair that you pass judgment on me, when you’re guilty of the same thing, Ryder. Even now, you’re living a life you don’t want in order to prove something to your dad. I’m not sure what, but for you, the reason is obviously enough. Can’t my reasons be enough?” I stare up into his face, pleading.
“Sure,” he says simply. “Absolutely.” He’s shaking; his neck muscles corded tight, his fists balled by his thighs. I don’t realize I’m doing it until I see the hurt in his eyes—I shrink back.
“You’re afraid of me?” His voice is so painfully soft, I have to gulp down the lump in my throat to speak.
“No,” I say. But that’s not at all the truth. And he knows it.
“You are. Dammit, Ari. I wouldn’t…I’m not my brother. I shouldn’t have told you. Fuck.” He takes off toward the door, but my rational side kicks in, and I leap to jump in front of him.
“I’m not afraid of you. Not in the way you’re assuming,” I force out.
He tilts his head, taking me in, then he’s stepping so close I can feel his body heat wash over me, like a summer wave crashing over my skin. It heightens all the rest of my senses, and I’m engulfed. Scent, taste, touch—completely aware of him.
“Kiss me.” His voice is a low boom. It echoes through the small room, into my chest, and reverberates through my soul.
“I can’t.”
“Kiss me, and I’ll tell Coach that I’m out. Just toss in the towel and walk away.” He grabs my waist and crushes my body against his. My skin explodes with a thousand shivers. “You don’t want to marry some rich, boring asshole—being told how to act, what to wear, what to do for the rest of your life—anymore than I want to be tackled by sweaty guys and sold off by leagues for however long, until my body’s trashed.”
“This is way too intense, way too fast,” I say. And it is. I’m fighting to retain every logical thought as they flee my head.
His fingers grip my shirt, pulling me even closer. “I’ve spent nearly four years proving I’m nothing like Jake. Which means I never let anyone get close enough to hurt. I’ll take a running leap off the edge, right now, for you.”
My heart stutters in my chest. “Why?” I breathe.
“Because it’s the first time I’ve ever been inspired. And I’m scared if I don’t do something drastic, then you’re going to fall off that edge, Ari. I don’t know how, or why, but I feel like if I don’t catch you now…”
I lower my chin. I watch his breaths expand and contract his chest. “Tell me the whole story, then I’ll kiss you, Ryder.” I look up.
His face contorts, but not out of confusion. He knows exactly what I’m demanding. “It’s not important.”
A hollow ache consumes me. I place my hands on his chest and push away. “I’m not getting involved with anyone ever again who I can’t trust completely. I want it all this time. No holding back. I can’t be with anyone who offers less.”
His grip on me breaks, and his hands drop to his sides. “Because it’s not worth the sacrifice,” he says. “You want to know that you have a sure thing before you tell Daddy to cut off your trust fund.”
Indignant anger rushes through me, spiking my blood pressure. “God, but you’re such an ass.”
“Am I? Or am I right?” He lowers his head, our faces inches apart. “Anything that's worth trying for won’t be a sure thing up front, Ari. Trust is earned, not given. And I can’t offer you a safe, easy relationship free of struggle. So you might as well marry whomever your father wants, because that’s a sure thing. A sure, fucked up thing.”
“You’re so hung up on money, on status,” I fume. “You’re completely missing—”
“Only people who’ve never had to go without, who’ve never had to struggle to pay for food, or clothes, or hell, a haircut, say that shit.” He shakes his head, a disgusted look marring his face. “Yeah, I’m hung up on it. You’re lying if you say you’re not, because you wouldn’t be so demanding right now otherwise. Demanding I give you some impossible thing. You want certainty before you give up luxury. I’m not going to squabble at your feet. I’m willing to trade in my future, the only thing I have, for a chance with you. If you can’t offer me the same, then I made a huge mistake by coming here and putting myself on the line.”
He walks around me, and I turn to watch him grab the doorknob, only to pause before opening the door. I race through my thoughts, trying to find a clear course of action, something I can give him to make him understand.
“I would never ask you to give up football or your future. And I’d never ask you to turn your back on your family,” I say. “That’s the difference, Ryder.”
He huffs a bitter laugh. “But aren’t you?” he says. “Because how will you ever stomach being with a jock?” He sends me one last, desperate look before he opens the door and leaves, his candid words lingering in the air around me.
20