The Fading Trilogy: Fading, Freeing, Falling: Includes 2 BONUS short stories: Hoping and Finding Forever (28 page)

"You want that cup of coffee?" he asks, and I am pulled out of my thoughts.

"That'd be great, I'm still really cold."

"There are some blankets in the trunk by the fireplace," he tells me as he walks into the kitchen. I hop up and grab a large blanket, wrapping it around me before I sit back down.

"How do you take it?" he asks from across the room.

"One sugar and really blond."

Ryan hands me my mug and sits down next to me with a grin. "You getting warm?"

"Trying too."

He picks up the remote and turns it to TCM. I shake my head and laugh at him.

"What's so funny?"

"You. I don't know anyone who watches the classic movie channel, aside from you."

"You want me to change it?"

Pulling my feet up on the couch, I say, "No, it's fine. I'm only teasing you."

He turns up the volume and we sit back and watch 'The Blue Dahlia.' He knows I'm only half paying attention because every now and then he will make commentary to keep me up to speed.

By the time the movie ends, Ryan has to get ready to go to work. I grab my clothes from the bathroom, and we head downstairs to his jeep. When he pulls in the studio lot, he asks me to come out tonight. When I tell him that I can't, he doesn't push.

"I'm sorry, but I'm just really tired and will probably go to bed early," I say. I know Mark's band has become the regular Saturday night house band and that Jase is often with him, but the thought of being in a crowded bar, and possibly crossing paths with Jack, is too much for me to think about. "Plus, I have the early shift at work tomorrow."

"Your boss doesn't strike me as the type who would mind if you came into work a little hungover," he jokes.

"You're probably right about that, but I've never drunk enough to have ever been hungover."

"Never?"

"Don't act surprised."

"I'm more relieved," he says

"I'm not even going to ask why. But, thanks for today."

"Any time."

"Tell Mark and Jase I said 'hi' when you see them tonight, okay?" I open the door and hop out of the car. Looking back at him before I close the door, I say, "Thanks again for being there today. It probably would have ended up being a crappy day if I just came home."

"Thanks for letting me be there," he says.

I close the door and get into my car.

When I arrive home, Kimber is sitting in the living room flipping through a magazine as I walk in.

"Hey," I say.

Looking at the clothes I'm wearing that are entirely too big, she asks, "What are you wearing?" I'm surprised that she is speaking to me.

"Oh, um..." I stutter as she nods her head. By the look on her face, she seems annoyed. She closes the magazine and starts walking toward her room.

"Kimber," I call out after her, but she just ignores me and slams her door shut.

I dump my clothes in the laundry room before I go into my room. I brush my teeth, take my sleeping pill, and slide into bed. I am still wearing Ryan's clothes, and can smell the warmth of his scent with a hint of amberwood as I start to grow tired.

"What are you going to do for the next few weeks?" Ryan asks as we unload some firewood from his jeep. I figured since I was going to be alone for Christmas break, I could at least make it as festive as possible with a tree and wood for the fireplace. I called Ryan to go with me to the tree lot since his jeep is big and could hold everything I wanted to buy.

"I don't know. This is the first year that Jase isn't here with me. We normally spend most of the break together when I am not at my parents'."

"How is that going?"

Stacking the firewood in the garage, I say, "It's not, really. I spoke with my father for the first time since Thanksgiving a few of days ago, and he wants me to come over for dinner Christmas Eve."

"You haven't spoken with them for all this time?"

"No."

We walk out to grab another load of wood. Kimber and Jase both left as soon as they were finished with finals, so I have been picking up a lot of extra shifts at work this past week to keep myself busy. Ryan and I have been spending more time together. He continues to show affection with me by holding my hand or putting his arm around me while watching TV, but that's about it. I'm not sure about my feelings for him, but I'm pretty sure that he sees me as more than his friend. Sure, I'm affectionate with Mark and Jase, but they are non-threatening to me.

When Ryan and I were out getting coffee earlier this week, we ran into a girl that Ryan must have dated in the past. He seemed really uncomfortable talking to her in front of me, but she seemed more than comfortable with him. It didn't make me jealous, but it made me a little more guarded. Ryan is a good-looking guy, so I shouldn't be surprised that he has dated a lot of girls, I'm just not sure what
a lot
actually means. Part of me doesn't really want to know.

"So, you're going over to see them then?"

"Well, yeah, I don't really want to, but it's Christmas and all. I'm just a little scared about how it will all go. The last time I saw them, we said some pretty nasty things to each other, and I have never gone this long without talking to them."

"What are they so upset about?"

Back inside the house, I pour a glass of wine, and Ryan takes a beer from the fridge.

"Everything. Turns out I've been nothing but an embarrassing disappointment to them all along."

Ryan lets out an irritated sigh as we take our drinks and head into the living room. We sit down on the couch, and Ryan slides his arm around my shoulders, pulling me next to him.

"I'm sorry, babe," he says quietly, and I notice his term of endearment. I try not to act flustered, but he has never said anything like that to me before. It's things like this that he does that confuse me. The friendship that we have has been eased into pretty naturally; I have never questioned him about it, and I find myself liking it.

"Honestly, it's nothing that I didn't already know deep down, but it was the first time that it actually hit me that these were their true feelings toward me."

"I don't want you going over there." His statement catches me off guard, and I look up at him. I can see it written all over his face that he's nothing but serious.

"Ryan, I have to. They're my parents."

"I don't care. I don't want you going over there for them to treat you like shit."

Letting out a sigh, I lean back and rest my head on his chest. I'm not sure why this upsets him so much, but I can't not go see my parents at Christmas. "I have to go," I softly whisper. "It's Christmas, and I really should be there. I'm only going for dinner. That's all."

"Then I'm going with you."

I pull away from him and turn to look at him straight on. "What?"

"I don't want you going alone, Candace. I'll go with you."

I shake my head and say, "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Well, I don't think it's a good idea that you're going. So, we can argue about this, or you can just say 'okay.'"

I sit there looking at him, surprised that he would even care so much about this. But, he's right, I don't see him backing down, so instead of fighting him on this, I turn and lean back into him. "Okay."

"And I don't want you spending Christmas alone either, so why don't you come with me. I could use the distraction at the madhouse."

"What?! No. Thanks, but I'll be fine."

"I'm sure you will be fine, but I don't like the thought of you sitting here alone, so you're coming with me."

"Ryan, it feels weird."

"Why?"

"Because. It just does. I know you have a big family, and I just don't want to intrude."

He shifts to face me, and says, "It's not an intrusion. My family isn't like that."

I look down and take a moment before saying, "Okay, but no gifts. It makes me uncomfortable."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know. It just always has. Please," I say in a serious tone.

"Okay. No gifts. But just so you know, I have a shit-ton for the kids," he says with a chuckle.

I smile and we sit back, kicking our feet up onto the coffee table. "So when did you start making all the rules?"

"When you started making me worry about you."

I don't respond to his statement; I don't know how to respond. The protectiveness of his words confuses me, but they make me feel good. Instead, I just sit there next to him and stare at the undecorated tree by the front window and worry about Ryan meeting my parents.

I have been on edge all day thinking about how dinner will go tonight. I'm nervous because the last time I saw my parents, it didn't go so well, and nothing has been discussed or resolved. I'm also nervous about Ryan meeting them. I know my mother will jump to conclusions and assume we are dating, and that will not go over well since I know she will be judging him and measuring him up to her unreachable standards.

When I see Ryan's black Rubicon pull up in front of my house, I slip on my coat and head out. He gets out of the car to help me into my seat. When we pull away, he must have picked up on my nerves when he says, "Relax."

Feeling the need to warn him, I say, "Ryan. You need to know that—"

But he doesn't let me finish when he interrupts me and repeats, "Candace, relax."

"They're just very judgmental people."

"There is nothing that they can say that I haven't heard before," he says, and I wonder what he means by that. Is he referring to his parents? I know he is close with his mother, so I assume maybe his father has something to do with his statement. Ryan has never mentioned his dad. I figure his parents are divorced and he just isn't close with him, but I have never asked.

I start fidgeting and twisting my hands when he pulls into the gates of The Highlands. He reaches over and lays his hand on top of mine to calm me, but it doesn't help. When he pulls into my parents' circle drive and shuts off the car, I don't get out. We both sit there for a moment when Ryan asks, "You ready?"

"Yeah," I breathe out.

"Bunny," my dad beams as we walk through the door. His candor is not what I expected, and he pulls me in for a big hug. "You look beautiful, dear." He turns to Ryan and shakes his hand. "And you must be Ryan. Thanks for joining us. Come in."

Turning back to me he says, "Your mother is finishing getting ready. She should be out shortly."

We walk back into the kitchen and my father asks, "What can I get you two to drink?"

"A beer is good, Mr. Parker."

"Please, call me Charles."

My father hands Ryan a bottle of beer and pours me a glass of red wine.

"Why don't we go to the library and visit while we wait for your mother?"

As we are walking through the house, Ryan keeps a supportive hand on my back, and I appreciate the gesture.

"So, Ryan, what is it that you do?" my father asks as we all sit down.

"I own a bar right off campus."

"Oh, how did you get into that type of work?"

"Long story short, after I graduated college, I couldn't seem to find a job with the economy, so I just sort of fell into this business deal. It's been working out nicely though, so I can't complain."