Page 81 of No One But Us

“If he can’t commit, then you should be kicking him to the curb. Even I was able to do that.”

He’s right. Ryan was not the right guy for me, but obviously James isn’t either, no matter how badly I want to believe otherwise.

“It’s complicated.”

“Well, I’m not done trying,” Ryan says. “Whether this guy fucks up or not, I’m not done trying.”

I kiss Ryan’s cheek and let him return to the whole room full of girls who want him, girls he’d give up to be with me. And I head home to see the guy too embarrassed to even admit we’re together.

* * *

James is waiting on the front steps. His stare burns me as I walk toward the door, which pisses me off. What possible right does he have to be mad when I’m the one getting jerked around?

“Are you getting back together with him?” he asks. The words are clipped and tight.

The rage in his voice makes me remember my own.

“Why do you care?” I seethe. “You and I are only friends, right?”

“We were never just friends,” he says, that muscle ticking in his jaw. “So answer the question.”

“Why should I? You act like it doesn’t matter what happens when I go back to school, so how could it possibly matter now?”

“Do I look like someone it doesn’t fucking matter to?” he rages, jumping to his feet. “You spend the whole night not speaking to me. Then I have to watch that bullshit between you and your ex-boyfriend, and now you won’t even tell me if you’re with him?”

“And you’ve spent weeks treating me like a temporary hookup. You want some fling you don’t have to feel guilty about? Fine. But don’t for one second act like you have the right to know anything about what I’m doing. That right will be earned by someone who likes me enough to admit we’re together.”

“It has nothing to do with how much I like you,” he hisses. “Nothing.”

“Of course it does! When you meet the right girl, you’ll feel the way you did about quitting law school,” I tell him, and my voice breaks as I realize the truth of what I’m saying. “You’ll want her so much that you won’t care about the consequences. I just don’t happen to be that girl.”

I bury my face in my hands, and he pulls me into his chest.

“Elle,” he says, “you’re wrong. You’re so, so wrong.”

“Tell me how.”

“You have no idea how badly I wish our timing was different,” he says. “I wish you were older. I wish this could have waited until you were out of college.”

There are a hundred questions I’d like to ask in response, but I say nothing. I just press my head to his chest, knowing that the answer he just gave provided all the information I really need. Because what he didn’t mention was a single way it could work.

* * *

I wake just before sunrise, shocked to find that I’m still in James’ room. At some point last night he led me back here, curling his wide frame around mine, his whispered apologies and my tears the sounds that lulled us to sleep.

I sit up, and he pulls me back down.

“I need to go,” I tell him. “What am I going to say to Ginny?”

“We’ll figure it out,” he says. He stares at my face, trying to find answers there. “Are we okay?”

I blink back my tears. “Yeah.”

But we are not okay. Or at least I’m not. Because last night finally confirmed what I should have realized long ago. This really is going to end.

I get out of James’ room not a moment too soon. I’ve just climbed back into my own bed when Ginny comes home. She looks exhausted.

“Late night, huh?” I ask.