The Boy and His Ribbon (The Ribbon Duet 1)

I’d only recently saved up enough to buy a cheap motorbike that ensured I got to work for four a.m. without having to rely on shitty public transport. I didn’t have a license to ride it—seeing as I had no proof of who I was—and even having the convenience of wheels meant I still had to get up well before dawn. “It’s late. You should go to bed, and I need a shower.”

She looked away but not before her eyes skittered down my body, lingered on my crotch, then dropped to the floor. Inhaling quick, tension rippled over her then was gone. She nodded quickly. “Yes. Bed. Shower. Good plan.”

Twisting on the spot, her hair spun out like a gold carousel as she headed toward her bedroom. A second later, she spun back, biting her bottom lip, her cheeks pinker than before. “Eh, Ren?”

Something in her tone froze me to the floor. “What?”

She studied me with painful blue eyes, her decision not entirely formed. “Umm…”

“Umm what?” I struggled to convert air into oxygen. The way she stared hinted she knew whatever she’d ask would wedge yet another problem between us. “Tell me.”

“What I meant to ask you before…. Do you think…I…” She dragged a hand through her long hair, revealing her ribbon was tied around her wrist today. “Would you mind if I—”

“Spit it out, Della.” My heart rushed to know, but at the same time, warned I wouldn’t like what she was about to say.

She exhaled in a rush. “Can I go on a date with Tom?”

I stopped breathing. “What?”

“Tom…um, you met him? At the diner? The tall guy with brown hair like yours and um…” Her gaze landed on mine before bouncing away just as fast. Deep in their blue depths other things lurked. Things she didn’t want me to see.

I stepped toward her, but she tripped backward. “So…eh, can I?”

Air was still hard to come by. Everything inside bellowed to deny her request. I wanted to lock her in the apartment and never let her out. She was still too young for this. Too delicate and special and perfect to let unworthy boys touch her.

I didn’t want anyone touching her.

Period.

But it wasn’t my place to prevent her from growing up.

I should say yes.

I meant to say yes even though it slayed me.

But somehow, what I meant to say transformed on my tongue into an unarguable, “No.”

Her lips thinned, and the nervousness at asking me quickly switched to resentment. “Why not?”

Just because I had to dig the knife a little deeper into my heart, I repeated her question. “Why won’t I let you go on a date with him?”

She nodded.

“Because.”

“Because?” She planted hands on her hips. “That’s not a reason.”

“I don’t like him.” I’d backed myself into this corner and had no way out. Why the hell didn’t I say yes? I’d meant to, for God’s sake. Now we slipped into yet another fight, and I was tired of fighting. Tired of miscommunication and walking on eggshells.

I wanted her close and caring like she’d just done with my splinter. I wanted to know where she was at all times, so I knew she was safe.

“You don’t even know him.” She growled.

“I don’t have to know him to know what he wants.”

“Oh, really?” She flicked her head to the side, her nose wrinkled with familiar temper. “Just like I know what Cassie wanted with you all those long summer nights?”

I stabbed my finger in the air. “That’s none of your goddamn business.”

“Just like what Tom and I might do is none of yours.”

“Oh, see that’s where you’re wrong, Della.” I moved toward her until our chests almost touched. “Everything you do is my business. You’re mine to keep safe, and I have no doubt he doesn’t have any intention of doing that.”

“He won’t hurt me.” She backed up. “He’s nice.”

“Nice doesn’t exist when hormones are out of control.”

“Hormones?” She laughed condescendingly. “What do you think I am, Ren, some animal who just wants to get laid?”

I flinched.

Words landed on my tongue, but I discarded them.

She wasn’t an animal, but she was getting close to wanting sex. I could see it in her eyes, taste it in her voice. She wouldn’t be content with just me much longer and that knowledge kept me up at night.

Before I could choose an appropriate response, she added, “Just because you were fucking at my age doesn’t mean—”

“Language.”

“Oh, please. You use worse all the time.”

“Not intentionally, I don’t.”

“What’s the difference?” She curled her lip. “You swear but don’t let me swear. You slept with Cassie, yet you won’t let me—”

My temper snapped. “You’re not permitted to sleep with anyone. Ever. Do you hear me?”

“You can’t stop me, Ren.” She crossed her arms, trembling just as much as me.

We both trembled when fighting. I didn’t know how it happened or how to stop it, but with every fight, my limbs turned shaky with frustration and helplessness because I knew I could never win.