Page 26 of Clashing

Chapter nineteen

Feelings

Ryker

I expected Scarlett to be mad at me for encouraging her to get help, but she was more resigned than anything.

That was good. It meant part of her already recognized that we’d reached this point.

Not wanting to push her after an episode, I didn’t initiate seeing her for a few days. Letting her come to me was best.

She didn’t initiate for over a week, then one night she stopped me on my way out of the bathroom and said she wanted me to take her against the wall.

I wasn’t going to say no to that. So I did and of course, it was amazing.

It always was with her. It felt great at the time but later in the night, I wondered if it was the right thing.

Her eyes were off, their usual spark muted.

I decided to tell her we should hold off until she figured things out.

She seemed vulnerable and I wouldn’t be some jackass taking advantage of her.

So, I rode to the bar early and found her outside, loading canvases and bags splattered in paint into her car.

It was better to be in public, where saying no to her was easier.

I parked my motorcycle next to her truck.

She’d already turned to face me by the time I removed my helmet.

“Where’s that crisis center?” she asked, wringing her hands together.

Oh shit. All right.

I gestured to the street behind her and dragged my hand to the right. “Down that way. Take a left on Washington. It’s on the right side. Purple sign.”

She gnawed her lip. “Okay.”

“Want me to come?”

“No.” She straightened her spine and took a deep breath. “I need to do this for myself.”

I’ve never been prouder in my life. That shit wasn’t easy. It took guts to face something you’d rather pretend was a nightmare. “All right.”

“Did you want to talk to me about something? That’s usually why you park back here.”

“It can wait. Why don’t we talk when you get back?”

“Okay.” She waved at me as she got in her truck. “See you later.”

I waved and she drove in the direction of the crisis center. Good for you, sugar.

The thing was, I should leave her alone while she worked on this. She didn’t need to get distracted, and my attachment couldn’t continue. This was the perfect time to end our arrangement. It was the last thing I wanted but it wasn’t about me. Not only did she deserve better, she needed better.

I moved my motorcycle to the main parking lot and shuffled inside the bar. Danny hired another person since he was still on the mend, so Tammy was training some new guy I’d only seen a couple times. She told him to let me in anytime, regardless of whether or not Dan’s was open.

Once she poured me a drink, Tammy continued her training while I tried to work out what the hell to do. Several whiskeys later, the liquid courage sank in, and I resolved to talk to Scarlett tonight. When she returned.

Time ticked on. People filled the bar. Some ordered food and left.

She didn’t show and my guys kept sending me disapproving frowns.

Some of them were aware I was about to break things off and weren’t happy.

They thought she was good for me. She was, but that wasn’t the problem.

I wasn’t good for her. Being with her would be selfish.

I went to the bathroom and stared into the mirror reflecting the wall where I’d had her six times. Not helping. I splashed my face with cold water and returned to my seat. I almost started to worry when another hour passed, and she didn’t show.

Nick noticed my fidgeting and took a seat beside me. “What’s up?” he asked, lifting his glass to signal another refill.

My leg bounced. “Wondering where the fuck she is.”

“She’s here.” Nick inclined his head to the stairs. “She arrived like an hour ago while you were in the bathroom.”

I scowled and rose from the stool. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because no one wants you to break things off.”

“Not your decision.”

Nick said something else I didn’t catch and had no patience for. I had to focus on telling Scarlett this had to stop. That nagging inside me whispering maybe we could be more needed to die. I couldn’t be more.

I made it to the top of the steps and didn’t bother knocking. She almost always had her headphones in, anyway. Opening the door, tomato, parmesan, oregano, and other heavenly aromas wafted into my nose. Scarlett stood at the stove, stirring a wooden spoon in a pot.

“Hey, I’m making food.” She held up the spoon with sauce on it. “You want some?”

“Nah,” I said, although yes, yes I did. It smelled incredible.

“Come on.” She pouted and held a hand under the spoon, then carefully carried it over to me, blowing on the sauce. “Try it.”

“Fine.” I gripped her spoon and hand and tried to ignore the electricity sparking between us while I sipped the sauce. “Fuck, that’s good.”

“Right?” She returned to the pot and resumed stirring. “Sure you don’t want some?”

“Fine. That’s easily the best sauce I’ve ever had. Where’d you learn to cook like that?”

“Dan and my mom. For this specifically, my mom.” She stood on her toes and reached into a cupboard for two ceramic bowls.

“She worked at this Italian restaurant for a while. A legit one. Owned by Italians who’d immigrated.

They taught her all their recipes and secrets, and she taught me.

” She shoveled food into the bowls. “So, this is almost-authentic Italian cuisine.”

She really is the whole package. For the first time in a long time, I wished I were different.

Years ago, I wanted to be different but lost my resolve after serving overseas.

I lost hope for anything good. I lost the belief I deserved anything good.

I definitely didn’t deserve someone as amazing as Scarlett.

She retrieved forks and brought the pasta to the kitchen table. We sat, and I grudgingly ate the best pasta I’d ever had. Damn her.

“So.” I cleared my throat. “How’d it go?”

“It wasn’t that bad.” Her tone implied it surprised her as much as it did me.

“I thought it‘d be terrible, but it wasn’t. We didn’t get too deep into anything yet.

I don’t know. Is it fucked up to say it’s nice to not feel so alone?

I don’t wish it on anyone, but I wasn’t the only one there. It made me feel less crazy.”

“You’re not crazy. Don’t ever think that.”

“It’s a little easier not to feel that way now.” She stared into her bowl for several seconds, then shifted her gaze to me. “Thanks for encouraging me to go.”

“It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing to me.”

She was off tonight. I narrowed my eyes at her, wondering what the hell was on her mind. She clearly wanted to speak, and she’d never held back before. Her eyes darted away, her mouth opening and closing several times.

“Spit it out, Scar.” I swirled noodles around my fork and raised it for a bite. “Promise I’ve heard worse, whatever it is.”

“I have feelings for you.”

I stopped with the food halfway in my mouth. My appetite vanished and I lowered the fork.

“I’m sorry.” She wrung her hands together.

“I know we said we’d say something if feelings got involved and I thought I could ignore them but .

. .” She caught her lip between her teeth and avoided my eyes.

“I can’t. You’ve been so amazing to me and Dan.

Ryker, I have feelings for you. Strong feelings.

I want to be with you. All of you. All the way. ”

My fork landed in the bowl with a clatter. Feelings. She couldn’t have feelings for me. What the hell did I have to offer her?

I slumped in my chair and pondered what the fuck happened. I was used to girls being attracted to me, but I wasn’t boyfriend material. Not in the slightest. I couldn’t comprehend how she could have feelings for me. Feelings. Physical attraction was one thing, but this?

“Please say something.” Her quiet voice pulled at my heart. “I know I dropped it on you but please say something. You’re killing me here.”

Say something. What the hell could I say? She was perfect in every way, but I was too fucked up. She’d grow to resent me the same way I resented myself and I wanted her to only feel good things when she thought of us.

“Scarlett.” I clasped my hands together to keep them steady. “I’m not that guy.”

“I think you could be that guy. I think you’d be great at being that guy.”

“I wouldn’t. That’s not me, Scar. I don’t do relationships. I don’t do feelings. This. What we’ve been doing.” I gestured between us. “That’s all I got. There’s nothing else in here.”

“But you show up. You always show up. It wouldn’t be that different.”

“I’m not boyfriend material, all right?” I would never make you happy, and it’d kill me to watch you slowly start to hate me as much as I deserve. “I like having sex with you, but I can’t do the relationship thing.”

“Have you ever tried?”

“Not since high school.”

“Then you don’t know. Maybe you could.” She lifted a shoulder.

“I’m not that needy, Ryker. I’m not one of those people who wants constant attention or nice things.

I want you the way you are. I want exactly what we currently have, only with a firmer commitment.

Literally nothing has to change except I get to call you my boyfriend and you—” Pink tinted her cheeks. “You call me your girlfriend.”

I’m no good for you. I couldn’t fuck up her life like that. Having sex was one thing. Matters of the heart? That was a story that wouldn’t end well. She’d outshine me and hate herself for wasting time on me.

“I can’t do it, Scarlett.”

“So you don’t have feelings for me at all? It’s all sex all the time?”

Of course it’s not. My attachment to her, my pull to her, the electricity that crackled between us was undeniable.

It had been from the moment I laid eyes on her.

At first, I wanted her for shallow reasons, but now?

It wasn’t about fucking anymore. Telling her would only make it more complicated.

So, for the first time since I met her, I lied to her.

“No. I don’t have feelings for you. I like messing around with you.

” The words tasted bad leaving my mouth—a bitter residue left on my tongue because I never wanted her to believe anyone could experience her without wanting more.

I should’ve been more careful. Necessary or not, my wording was insensitive. I braced for the anger I deserved.

“Okay.”

I blinked. She said no more. I expected a much bigger fight. “You’re not mad?”

“No.” She met my gaze, and my heart flipped. “That wouldn’t be fair. You can’t force feelings that aren’t there and you’ve been clear with me what this was from the beginning. I’m not mad, Ryker, but I can’t do this anymore.”

“What do you mean?” It shouldn’t matter. I was about to tell her we had to slow down. Why did I feel the persistent need to fight her on this?

“I can’t sleep with you anymore. It makes the feelings stronger, and I can’t handle that.

” She folded her hands in her lap. “But I want to be friends. Because you mean the world to Dan and I’d hate myself if I were the reason you stopped coming here.

So please don’t stop. I can be normal. I promise. ”

I can’t. “It probably seems you can’t handle it because you have so much going on.

” Scarlett was slipping away from me, and it was worse than I thought it’d be.

She was sand spilling between my fingers while I desperately tried to catch every grain my dumb ass had come up here to let go of anyway.

Now actually faced with it? My heart thundered, the roaring of blood in my ears too loud to think straight.

“Let’s give it time and what you think of as feelings for me will go away.

Seriously, Scarlett, we piss each other off more than anything. You’re leaning on me because I’m safe.”

Weak attempt. We did piss each other off but I enjoyed it. She enjoyed it. Fighting exhilarated us.

“That’s not what it is.” She shook her head. “I know when I have feelings for someone. I have a level head. I don’t go back and forth. I know how I feel. The circumstances don’t matter.”

“But—”

She held her hand up. “I can’t. I’m sorry. You won’t stop coming to the bar, will you?”

Her resolve stunned me. I couldn’t agree, but I couldn’t argue. The sand was almost gone, and she stared at me, waiting for an answer while my stomach turned to lead.

My chest crumpled in on itself. “I wouldn’t stop hanging out with Danny because of you.”

“Good.” Her shoulders lowered. “Then we can be normal.”

“Normal.” Normal sounded fucking terrible.

The world’s best pasta rested unfinished in our bowls. She picked at it with her fork but didn’t take another bite. I’d never turned down good food but the longer I sat there, the more I couldn’t breathe. I pushed the bowl away and stood.

Her response was like everything had been between us from the beginning—a strange sense of having known each other longer than we had. She always knew what I was doing. Always somehow in my head. So when I stood, she did too and approached the door, aware of my intentions.

She opened it and waved me ahead but none of it seemed real. It was more like we were actors playing parts. I paused in the doorframe. The ache in my chest built to an unbearable pressure. I needed it to release, and she was the only way it could. Turning around, I cupped her face and kissed her.

Her lips molded to mine, their shape perfectly made to fit against my mouth. She moaned and that unforgettable sound echoed in the chambers of my mind where I hoped it continued bouncing for eternity. I needed her.

“One more time,” I murmured against her lips. “Let me have you one more time, Scarlett. Please. ”

The sadness in her dark eyes knocked into me so hard, I almost stumbled from the impact. She gazed up at me for a moment, biting her lip. I knew that look. She felt it too. The crackling between us. I was certain she’d say yes but then she backed away, shaking her head.

“I can’t.” She gripped the door. “I’ll see you around.”

The last grain slipped between my fingers and my knees threatened to give out. She gave me a small smile that didn’t have a hint of genuineness, then shut the door. I remained outside it, the touch of her soft lips lingering on mine.

My throat thickened and I stuffed my hands in my pockets, every step away from her an agonizing pierce through the chest. “See you around.”