Anxious Love (Love Sick #1) (19 page)

"I might have company."

He leaned up and smirked. "Who?" He scoffed.

I shrugged and tried to pull my arm out from his grip. He must be slipping because I got an arm free.

"Nope." He grabbed it and pressed it over my head. "Who's this company?"

"I don't have to tell you if you don't have to tell me."

"Okay, I'll tell you." He brought my other arm over my head and held both wrists with one hand. He cracked his knuckle on one hand, and I knew what was coming next. "As soon as you say,
Ryan, you're always welcome in my home
."

I shook my head, and his eyes shined at my futile hint of defiance.

I squirmed away but couldn't move. His hand slid down my arm, over the inside of my elbow, and tapped with feather light taps to my armpit. I bit my lip, not giving him the satisfaction of begging for mercy. I lasted a minute.

"No. Don't. Please stop."

"Say it."

"No."

He tickled me with more effort, and I couldn't stand it.

"Okay. Okay, stop." I giggled.

He stopped, his hands hovering over my ticklish spot.

"What was that again?"

He touched, and I screamed into a giggle fit.

"Okay. Ryan, you are always welcome in my home." I spit the phrase out through labored breaths.

"You mean it." His fingers continued their assault.

"Yes. Now, get off me."

He rolled off but brought me with him. I flinched when his arm moved down my side.

He laughed, and I struggled to catch my breath.

"My cousins are coming into town for a couple of days."

"Oh." I collapsed down next to him on the bed. "What are y'all going to do?"

"Probably dinner and take them out. Let them use my name to pick up some girls." He chuckled and rolled onto his side.

"That's awful." I flinched when he touched me.

"Relax. I won't tickle you anymore."

"Yeah, well, tell my body that. It doesn't trust you."

"Do you trust me?" The tone of the room grew serious. I sat up and stared down at him.

"Yes. Of course, I trust you." The smirk on this face told me he didn't believe me.

"Come here." He gripped the front of my T-shirt and kissed me.

I dropped it.

Ryan and I made love that night with an air of skepticism surrounding us. We both had questions to ask, but we avoided them. I lingered in bed until he left for practice then I headed home.

I didn't hear from Ryan all day. It wasn't strange, but with the way things were left last night, it felt strange. Like something was about to happen.

It was the moment in my novels that took me a while to get right—that pivotal moment. The scene where the audience knows, but the characters don't. Only this time, I was a character, and I was fully aware things were about to change.

"Hey, little one," Ryan yelled into the phone. Live music amplified in the background.

"Hey, big guy."

"I missed you today."

I wanted to say then why didn't you call, but I held it in. "Me, too." The music hurt my ears. "Where are you?"

"Cat's Meow on Bourbon."

"Your cousins found their conquests for the evening?"

He chuckled, and the sound thumped in my chest. "Almost. It's still okay for me to come over?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Okay."

I could feel his smile through the phone.

"I'll see you soon."

"Bye."

I hung up, and a strange, unsettled feeling overcame me. The tone of his voice saddened me. A lump formed in my throat when he said he missed me.

I had been substituting my anxiety with obsessive tendencies. I didn't quite understand. My therapist explained it wasn't necessarily a bad thing unless the new disorder was destructive. I didn't think it was... I was wrong.

I slipped on my flip-flops and ran down the stairs. I needed to see him.

I made it to the corner of Bourbon across from the popular karaoke bar. The place had been there for years. Back when I had more friends and no fears, I drove to New Orleans on Spring Break my senior year of high school. We hung out at the bar, and I even threw up in a potted plant in the courtyard.

All the windows and doors in the bar were open, and the music spilled out on the street. I searched for Ryan from my perch on the corner.

My heart raced, and I could feel the familiar anxiety creeping up being so close to places and situation I hadn't been around in years. I kept telling myself that as soon as I saw Ryan, I would be okay. I needed to see him, and my nerves would balance out.

I pulled out my phone and called him.

He answered after three rings.

"Hey, baby."

"Hey." My voice cracked.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, um." My throat hitched, and I reached out for the wall. The solid surface didn't offer the typical relief.

I heard Ryan calling my name through the phone, and then I heard it in stereo and looked up. I let out a hysterical giggle at seeing Ryan on the street in front of the bar.

In an instant, my anxiety crawled back into its hole and shut the door. It was so complete and so freeing. I shook with giddy excitement.

"I thought I would come by and see if I can coax you into coming home early."

He smiled and scratched the back of his neck. "Where are you?"

"Look to your right."

He looked in my direction, grinned, and shook his head as he walked toward me.

"Hey, little one," he said as he bent down and wrapped his arms around my waist, lifted me up, and kissed me.

I tasted the beer on his tongue. Was I getting a contact high from it or was I drunk on Ryan? He squeezed me tight as his lips moved to my neck. "I can't get enough of you."

"You promise?"

He leaned back and blinked. He shook his head. "You have no idea."

He kissed me before he set me down and grabbed both my hands in his.

"Come on. I want you to meet my family." Ryan took a step backward onto Bourbon, and I followed.

"I've been talking about you all night," Ryan said, but his voice sounded further away. I stared and saw his face as blurred images moved past me.

I opened my mouth but couldn't speak. I shook my head but felt like it was being held in a vise.

His gorgeous face and brown eyes sparkled in the lights on Bourbon Street. I focused on his face and the confidence in me, in us, that he held in his eyes.

But Ryan turned away.

I stopped. My gaze swept from left to right and the sound of my heartbeat thumped in my head. It was too loud and beat too fast.

Ryan jerked my arm, and I jerked back.

People crowded me, and I pushed them away.

I backed up.

Searching for something familiar.

I found them, I found Ryan's eyes, and they focused on me for a second, then the connection dropped. I clutched my chest as a guy stepped between us. He stood as tall as Ryan was. I stood stock-still and watched as his hands came up and pushed Ryan in the chest away from me.

Ryan's eyes grew dark.

I tried to turn away.

My body flinched as something or someone walked behind me. They were too close.

I watched Ryan's face as a scowl took over and his anger switched his features into something dark and sinister. Nothing like my Ryan.

The muffled sounds took on an angry tone as Ryan lifted his hands and grabbed the guy by the shirt.

I took another step back.

People stopped and watched Ryan and the other guy squaring off. I took another step back but stopped when I heard.

"The famous Ryan Ware. That's what you get off on. Bullying women."

"Dude, mind your own business. She's my girlfriend."

"Fuck that. I'm not going to just walk by and watch you take advantage of a female."

Ryan pushed the guy, and the guy pushed back.

Ryan grabbed the guy by the collar of his oversized red flannel shirt. The guy tripped over his own boots and fell into Ryan.

I looked for Ryan's other hand. It was balled into a fist. His face morphed, and I recoiled. He was preparing to strike.

"Stop." The guys with their hands on each other stopped and looked in my direction. I looked around to see who yelled it. I wanted to thank that person.

"Miss, is he hurting you?"

The entire crowd stared at me.

"No. I'm fine. He's my boyfriend."

The guy dropped his hands.

I reached my hand out, and Ryan came over to me. He took my hand, and I exhaled a breath I had been holding for what seemed like days.

I stepped back out of the street and placed my back to the building.

The crowded dispersed. The guy, who didn't even realize how close he was to getting his lights knocked out by an NFL lineman, shook his head and walked away.

I dropped Ryan's hand and squatted down next to the building.

I searched for Ryan, but the world swirled in front of me. When I looked down, I saw the solid concrete. I noticed the buildings. The solid, unmovable structures, I saw, sensed, felt, but the rest of the world was an angry, menacing blur, and I needed to get out of it.

I fished my phone out of my pocket. I dialed and held it to my ear.

A sob escaped my throat when she answered.

"Leah." I reached for her, but she flinched, her eyes glued to the ground. "Leah, baby. What's wrong?"

Her face glistened and her skin dulled. Her whole body shivered in the New Orleans heat.

"Baby, speak to me. What's going on?"

I kneeled down next to her. Her eyes scanned back and forth, but they didn't focus on anything or anyone. I called her name over and over, but she didn't respond.

She squatted on the ground with one hand on the building behind her. I reached out to touch her hand, but she flinched again, and I drew my hand back.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

The sob that escaped her lips made my chest tighten. It wasn't loud, but the desperation and the sorrow was a physical thing I felt in my heart.

I looked around to see if we drew any attention. I needed to keep people away from her. That was my job. To keep the world back so she could find her way in it.

I heard Sophie's voice through the phone.

Leah opened her mouth, but no sounds would come out. She shook like it was ten below zero outside. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and warm her up, but she didn't need me. She needed something, though. She dropped the phone.

I picked it up and handed it to her. She shook her head. I placed it to my ear, and she nodded.

"Sophie."

"Ryan. What's going on? Where's Leah?"

"She's here. She's... I don't know. She freaked out, and now, she's sitting out here shaking like a leaf. What do I do?"

"Where are you guys?"

"On the corner of Bourbon and St. Peters."

"Oh, my God," Sophie whispered under her breath.

Leah stared with expectancy in her eyes. Waiting for instructions.

"Leah, do I need to call someone? Tell me what to do for her," I yelled, and Leah scooted away from me. The fear in her eyes hit me in the gut.

"First, you need to calm down." I could hear Sophie moving. "Put the phone on speaker.”

I hit speaker and held the phone out.

"Hey, Leah. Sweetie. You're okay, but you need to come home. Okay?"

Leah nodded, but she didn't move.

"Okay, so you know where you are? You need to say something, sweetie. I need to hear your voice."

"Yes," Leah whispered.

Tears sprung to my eyes. It was the most amazing sound.

"Okay, great. Now, get up and walk home. Can you do that?"

"Ryan?" Leah said my name and I let a tear fall. She reached out and wiped it away. It broke my heart. She was in trouble and trying to comfort me. I was useless in helping her.

"Ryan's fine,” Sophie said. “Let's worry about getting you home."

Leah slid up the wall, and I stood up with her. She stared into my eyes as if searching for something. When she didn't find it, she turned around and headed in the direction of her place.

"Ryan, follow her."

I took a couple of steps on wobbly legs before I caught up and walked a half a foot behind her. She walked down St. Peters. She stopped at Royal and scanned both sides of the street. She shook her head and continued toward Chartres.