Eternal Eden (5 page)
Authors: Nicole Williams
Stronger girls hadn’t come back from these kinds of heartbreaks—I knew I needed to be careful. “I don’t think so,” I said slowly, as if my answer was unsure—open to change.
“Don’t think so,” he repeated, his eyes narrowing. “Why?”
“You’ll laugh.”
“I won’t,” he said, and for whatever reason, I believed him.
I forced my mouth to form the words, although it felt as unnatural as breathing under water. “I believe there’s got to be a spark, something big that happens when you meet the one you’re suppose to be with so there’s no way you can question it,” I was whispering, barely loud enough for my own ears to register, but from the tilt of his brow, I knew he was hearing every word the silly little girl inside of me was spilling out. “That didn’t happen with him. Why should I waste my time if he’s not the one?”
A part of me wanted to cringe, for admitting this to him, but another part wanted to jump up and run laps around the auditorium from the freedom of bearing myself to someone. Feeling naked in the most intimate way.
William didn’t have an immediate answer for me, as he had on just about every occasion. Paul made a smooth lay-in, closing the point gap—but it was only going to cut down on the embarrassment at this point. There was no coming back from this.
“Perhaps because he’s popular, handsome, a catch in the world of woman.”
His popularity was evident from the chortling fans behind us. Handsome? I suppose in the conventional, obvious way. A catch? I could see how he would be for some—for most—but something I was trying to suffocate within, bubbled to the surface, and I knew that he and every other man from this day on would be second rate thanks to the one sitting next to me who put a whole new spin on first rate.
“I don’t work that way,” I understated. “I want to be with one person forever. I don’t want to date my way through guys until I’ve forgotten just what I was looking for in the first place and end up settling for the next one that comes along.”
I knew how ridiculous I sounded, as if I had the beauty, wealth and status of a Hollywood starlet, and the options of men to go with it. I knew I was nothing more than Bryn, ordinary at best, odd at worst, but I was through silencing my inner voice. I’d done it long enough.
“What did you feel when you saw me?” he asked, drawing out each syllable as if waiting for the call from the executioner.
I glued my lips together so the answer on the tip of my tongue wouldn’t slip out.
A slow smile formed when I waited too long to answer.
“Not that,” I said, knowing I’d said it too fast for him to take it at face value. “Besides,” I added. “You were too busy making me angry.”
“Sparks come from anger—some of the strongest,” he said, sounding like he thought himself an expert on the matter. “Besides, anger is often mistaken for passion. Especially when someone is trying to hide their true feelings for someone.” He wasn’t kind enough to keep the accusation in his voice light.
“There. Weren’t. Sparks.” I hoped I didn’t sound as unconvincing to him as I sounded to myself. “Besides, we have nothing in common.”
“That’s not true,” he said, right before the buzzer went off, announcing the end of the game where OSU had gained enough ground back they could walk off the court with their heads only partially hung. “We both go to OSU, drive old cars, like basketball,” he listed off, as if he was trying to convince himself of our likeness. “And we both only want to be with one person,” he paused, his Adam’s apple dropping before continuing, “and sparks. We both believe in good old-fashioned sparks.”
His words expressed vulnerability, but it was his expression that screamed it, as if the mask he wore when I first met him, was just that, and the man he truly was was sitting next to me. There was something desperate about it, and incredibly appealing. As if he needed to be any more appealing.
I needed to get out of here and put some distance between us, fearing my sarcasm and self-deprecation were running out. “It’s my bedtime.” I rose to a stand, immediately missing the weight of his body pressed up to mine. “It was nice chatting with you without any explosions.”
“Explosions, sparks,” he waved his hand dismissively. “Same difference.”
He looked over me, in a way that was part possessive, part longing, and I waited for the internal dialogue to follow. The voice that would scream at me for misinterpreting the look on his face, the one that reminded me I wasn’t worth anyone’s troubles, not with what I’d done.
But before I could be astounded that no internal critic was sounding off, a girl—that had a similar body to Miss Ribbons, but was more edge than innocent—weaved up to William and slipped her hips into the seat I’d just left. So there’d been not one, not two, but three starry-eyed girls he’d had lined up for the evening’s agenda . . . and it wasn’t even ten o’clock yet.
I made sure I let him see the look in my eyes before marching away from him, hoping the distance would erase my feelings for him, but knowing it wouldn’t.
I barraged through a sea of black and orange, so consumed by my thoughts I charged into someone. Someone so large and hard my impact didn’t sway him, and someone so damp with sweat I knew the first thing I’d do is take a shower when I got back to my dorm. “Sorry,” I said, hurrying past.
“So that’s all I get? A sorry?” I had to turn around to put the face with the voice. “After dedicating five hard-earned points to you?”
I really didn’t need this new male development to sort through right now. I was living my own personal twilight zone with the male attention I’d drawn the past week.
“Hey, Paul. Good game,” I said formally, trying not to make my backing away from him insulting. I needed fresh air, a good night’s sleep, and possibly a lobotomy to sort through why two men worthy of every poem, song and praise ever conjured up for the male species had taken an interest in me.
Just as I was about to spin around, I caught a glimpse of William and his newest seat-mate. He was watching me, brows furrowed and lips tight, so I changed my plan. Time for a little payback.
Love was a battlefield . . . or so I’d heard.
I painted my lips into a smile, hoping it was that precise mixture of tease and allure that guys seemed to go crazy for.
“You were really amazing out there,” I praised, feeling vile for stooping to this new low to get back at the man who was driving me mad. I closed the distance between Paul and me and hung my hand on the side of his arm, hoping I’d feel something so I could write off what I’d felt when I’d touched William.
There was nothing . . .nothing but hot, sticky skin. William’s eyes narrowed, so I left my hand where it was, despite every instinct to swipe it away and wipe it off against my jeans.
Taking my hand on him as a hall pass to put his on me, he rested his hand above my hip. “You got plans for tonight?”
“No.” I shifted to the side, hoping his hand would fall off. No luck.
“Really?” he asked, sounding surprised. “There’s this party off campus I’m supposed to go to, but I don’t really feel like it and maybe if I had an excuse . . .” he took another step towards me, so literally every ounce of personal space was gone. “Like I had a date or something, I’d be let off the hook.”
Was he asking me out? I wasn’t sure if he was, or if he was just hinting to see if I had some hot, single girlfriend I’d refer him to. He’d have to be more direct if he wanted an answer, I’d never been adept at reading between the lines. Either way, it was a no.
However, as I was about to ask Paul for further clarification, William stood up and made no qualms about heading straight for us.
“What have you got in mind?” I asked Paul, letting him drop his mouth to my ear.
“Well I was thinking—”
William pried me from Paul, mid-sentence.
He face looked more upset than angry. “Just so you know,” he said through closed teeth. “Fancy fireworks ignited for the sole purpose of making someone jealous don’t count as sparks.”
I sucked in a breath, feeling like I was caught-up in a black-and-white movie where the leading lady is being pursued by two handsome, roguish-types. However, in my movie, I wouldn’t have the man the leading lady wanted striding away from her like mine was now.
Paul came up behind me. “Who’s that guy?”
“Just ignore him,” I said, not able to turn my eyes away from his retreating figure.
A good twenty paces away, he spun around. “You wish you could,” he shouted over the hullabaloo of the crowd, his arms shrugging as if saying,
you had your chance, see ya.
He melted into the mass of bodies leaving the auditorium, but I kept my eyes on the exact spot I’d lost sight of him, wishing I could make him reappear so I could rewind to the exact moment I left his side on the bench.
“What a chump. Just forget about him,” Paul said, squeezing my shoulder muscles. “I’m going to go get showered up.” He headed for the men’s locker room, smiling back at me. “Will you wait for me?”
I barely managed a nod.
date
but not a fiber of me was in it, and the troubling part—aside from not being interested in Paul Lowe, a demigod in the eyes of OSU’s female populace—was that I knew he was what I should like.
I should like the college guy who was a hero in the local community and defined all-American boy. But I’d learned long ago that what I should like, what I should do, just never seemed to work out for me. Like the world never had an easy, bumpless road planned for me. Up-to-date, it had been pocketed with sink holes and tombstones.
Who was I kidding? Certainly not myself. What I wanted had run away in the opposite direction. What was I still doing here?
And knowing that he was likely no good for me, that I’d suffer more heartache than any one girl should, I left the gym without a single look over my shoulder.
William throwing my words in my face had taken hold like a foreign bacteria. What was the use in pretending when I knew what I wanted? When, maybe somewhere all along, I’d always known what I’d wanted but it only became obvious to me when it appeared in the form of a man I met one week ago who had a knack for infuriating and confounding me.
The cool night air whipped me as soon as I opened the door. I zipped my hoodie jacket up as far as it would go, thankful I’d remembered it. It was a breezy, chilly night—the kind that had one checking over their shoulder. Winter clung to the air, that sterile, suffocating smell that blanketed any scent of spring in the breeze.
Back home, I would have been in shorts and a tee, but here, even in my jeans and jacket, I wished I’d brought an extra layer of insulation. What a difference moving one state away could make. I hugged my arms around me and decided I’d jog back to my dorm. I’d get there quicker, stay warmer, and I hadn’t worn my trusty sneakers for nothing.
“Hey, beautiful.”
The address was out-of-context, but since there was no one else around, I stopped. More like froze, as a male figure drifted out in front of me, as if he’d materialized with the snap of his fingers. He made no attempt to hide in the shadows to remain unrecognizable, which would have eased my discomfort had it not been for the smile plastered on his face. It was far too wide to be friendly.
“Can I help you?” I asked, scanning the surroundings for some other life form, or an escape route at the least.
“I certainly hope so. I’m Ben, and no need to introduce yourself. I already know who you are.” He took a few steps towards me, allowing me an even better view of him. From the youth of his face, he could have been a student, although the dark three-piece suit he was wearing aged him in an odd way.
“I’m looking for someone,” he said, clasping his hands in front of him. “And since you were cozied up to him earlier tonight, I believe you can assist me in my search.”
I caught the gasp in my throat before it got out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, feeling adrenaline surging through my arms and legs.
“I’m not the kind of person you want to play games with,” he said, his voice perfectly level. “Let me repeat myself”—he eyed me parentally—“where is William?”
This time, a gasp did make its way out, at the same time the auditorium door flew open and another man—also wearing a suit and an aura of trouble—jogged towards us.
“He’s not in there,” he called out to Ben, before acknowledging me. He hopped to a stop and surveyed me once, then twice, before whistling through his teeth. “Hello, hello.” There was no greeting in it. “This the girl?” His eyes didn’t leave me.
“This is her,” Ben replied, sounding bored. “Although she’s not being as cooperative as would be healthy for her.”
I don’t know what had taken my body so long, but for the first time, I got chills. I felt another injection of adrenaline—like nitrous burners exploding to life.
The new man clucked his tongue. “Yeah, well that’s why you brought me along.” His eyebrows twitched twice and his tongue slid along his upper lip.
“That’s the only reason I bring you along, Troy,” Ben said, shrugging his shoulders in my direction, looking expectantly at him. “Time to earn your paycheck.”