Page 34 of Clashing

Chapter twenty-five

I’ll Always Want You More

Ryker

T hrowing myself into relentless workouts didn’t help. Neither did burying myself in work. Drowning in a bottle didn’t help. I still tried because I needed something . Anything to get Scarlett out of my head.

I couldn’t return to the bar. Time had passed. She had her first date with him. I drank a lot that day. I’d been drinking a lot in general, which was why I nursed a hangover before I took the dogs for a run. My dogs who missed her too and wondered why I wasn’t myself.

I never said the right thing. I never did the right thing.

It’s why I’d convinced myself I couldn’t be with her in the first place.

I wasn’t good enough for her. That became painfully evident the last night I saw her, when she yelled at me.

Said I didn’t respect her. When I made her cry.

I hurt her like I was afraid I would if we started a relationship.

I never wanted to be the reason she cried.

As usual, I fucked it up. I got so angry when she disappeared with Collin.

It took concentrated effort not to storm up there.

Then she bounded downstairs with the biggest smile I’d ever seen.

Bigger than any smile I’d ever gotten out of her, and he’d gotten it from a few minutes of talking.

Jealousy consumed me and I made her feel like I didn’t respect her, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

He gave her what she wanted. He knew what she wanted. What did I know? What she wanted in bed. That was it. I didn’t know that artist they talked about. Scarlett had mentioned her before, but I didn’t fucking know art. He was good for her.

I hated him.

I let my anger and jealousy get the best of me and hurt her. It confirmed I couldn’t be with her. It wasn’t fair to put anyone through that. Especially not Scarlett.

Scarlett. God, I missed her in ways I hadn’t fathomed a person could be missed.

I missed the crinkle between her brows as she worked on details of a drawing.

Seeing her new work and distracting her from it.

Her defiant looks, the way she’d stick her hip out and plant her hand on it.

The way she’d bite her lip. The way she always had a comeback.

Most of all, I missed having her in my arms. I missed the way she’d curl into me while she was asleep.

She became a thousand times cuddlier. Awake, she didn’t seem to care.

Asleep, she’d cling to me, and I missed it like part of me had been cleaved off.

I missed the way all of her wrapped around me, held on like she was afraid I’d leave.

I missed waking up before her and watching her sleep.

It was a stupid thing to miss but watching her sleep gave me a glimpse into the parts of her she never let show.

She wore a mask all the time. Not when I was inside her, not when she was having an anxiety attack, not when she was asleep.

Those moments were real . I didn’t like the anxiety attacks, but I did love the way she’d lean on me.

I loved when she’d let me hold her in her most vulnerable moments.

But for the first time during that fight, she told me to leave.

She didn’t want me to comfort her. She didn’t want me to see her vulnerable.

Before, she’d say no at first but then run to me.

That night, she hid from me. She didn’t want me to see her without the mask.

That hurt more than anything—shutting me out when she’d normally run to me.

Normally. I scoffed at myself. I hadn’t known her long. There was no room for normal. Didn’t it take more time to have a normal?

The thing with Scarlett, it didn’t feel like two months.

She understood me, like I understood her.

Like I’d known her forever. Like she’d uncovered all my secrets, even though she hadn’t.

Being with her was fighting and pissing each other off and saying the wrong thing.

But it was also easy. I didn’t have to hold back.

She welcomed my rough edges, encouraged them.

She took all my shit and threw it back at me without hesitation.

No one had ever been that way with me. No one could handle me the way she did.

She always called me out on my shit. Wiggled her way into places no one else could. I’d never been more comfortable with anyone in my life. And now she wanted nothing to do with me. While I couldn’t blame her, I couldn’t move on.

At first, I was angry with her for not giving me a chance to explain. For not listening when I said I could take her to that show. I could do all the shit she wanted.

Then I pulled my head out of my ass and realized it was my fault. She didn’t want to hear me out because I’d given her no reason to. At least it ended before I got too attached.

Too attached. Fuck, if this wasn’t too attached, I didn’t want to know what it felt like.

Time passed. I texted her to apologize for the shitty things I’d said. I kept it simple and brief: I’m sorry for making you feel like I don’t respect you. I do. I think you deserve everything good, and I’m sorry I didn’t show you that.

I obviously couldn’t return to the bar. Except Danny called me while I was out and left a voicemail, asking me to fix a leak in his kitchen. No more avoiding it.

I told Scarlett I wouldn’t abandon Danny because of her, and I meant it. That didn’t make it easy to return his call and tell him I’d fix the leak. I had to be there soon and didn’t want to go.

What if she’s there? I didn’t know how to act. It was Saturday night and if her date went well with Collin, she’d probably be out again. I probably wouldn’t see her.

So I got my ass up and brought my tools because I liked using my own.

I didn’t bother knocking because we were past that and Danny didn’t need to worry about answering the door.

Inside, I followed the sound of the TV. Diana’s time off must’ve been up because her car wasn’t outside and she wasn’t there, nor was any of the stuff she had lying around the house when she first arrived.

Following the TV worked. I found Danny sitting on the couch. Alone, thank God.

“Ryker.” He patted the seat next to him. “I haven’t seen you. Where you been?”

I plopped next to Danny and shrugged. “Had some pretty intense cases the last couple weeks.”

I did. Not enough to stay away, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You got hurt.” Danny nodded to my bandaged arm. A stab wound I let happen because I couldn’t beat the shit out of myself for hurting Scarlett, so I had to get creative.

“Barely a scratch.” Sort of.

All right, it required stitches and hit a nerve, but it wasn’t the end of the world.

Danny made small talk, and I responded to the best of my ability. Thankfully, he laughed off my disinterest as not having a drink to make me talkative.

Whatever show played on the TV sucked Danny in, and I wandered to the kitchen and checked the sink. Nothing complicated but definitely something he couldn’t do in a wheelchair.

A few minutes of tightening loose pipes did the trick. I wiped my hands on my jeans and tried the faucet, letting it run for a minute to make sure it didn’t leak. Truth was, all his shit was old and needed replacing but he was stubborn as fuck.

Satisfied it was the best I’d get it, I turned off the water, spun to put my tools away, and froze. Scarlett stood in the doorway, gorgeous as ever in skinny jeans and a top that accentuated her hourglass figure.

Our gazes collided, shattering what remained of my heart. I didn’t like the way we looked at each other. Like strangers. I closed the toolbox and tore my gaze away from her as I strode past her for the door.

“Ryker, wait.”

Her hand landed on my arm and the simple contact from her soft, warm skin reminded me what I’d missed the last two weeks.

Electricity coursed through my veins and made me more alive than I wanted to be.

Normally I loved the way she brought me to life but now, I preferred numbness.

It was the only way I could handle the chasm between us. I faced her, swallowing hard.

Her hand fell away, leaving a cold void behind. “I’m sorry.” Her pretty lips pulled down. “For yelling at you. It wasn’t fair to yell and not let you talk. I’m really sorry.”

That, I wasn’t expecting.

“ You’re sorry?”

“Yeah.” She curled her arms around herself.

“The yelling, the being pissed at you for Nat, it wasn’t fair.

I just . . .” She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I’m sorry, Ryker. It wasn’t fair to treat you like that.

We made an agreement, and I lost my cool.

I told you I’d be normal, and I wasn’t. I have a lot on my plate and—look, you can’t kiss me anymore.

” Her expression stomped on the remains of my heart.

Decided and firm, like there was no chance she’d change her mind.

“You can’t. Thank you for the apology, but you need to respect my boundaries.

Which means you don’t kiss me whenever you feel like it and you don’t tell me what to do or wear or who to see or anything because it’s not okay.

I’m my own person.” She gestured to herself. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.” I forced myself to hold her gaze even though shame compelled me to break eye contact. Nothing she said was unreasonable, but there were a lot of unreasonable things I’d done. “I do.”

She sucked in a shaky breath. “I know you haven’t come to the bar because of me, and I don’t want it to be that way. Please come back. It’s not the same without you. Dan misses you and I miss seeing you. I know there can be nothing between us anymore but don’t stop coming because of me.”

I gaped at her for far too long. Words failed me. I didn’t expect her to apologize. Another reason she was way too good for me.

“I’m sorry too, Scarlett. I wasn’t so great to you myself.” Understatement. “You deserved much better than how I handled things. I want you to know I know that.”

“Thanks.” She averted her eyes. “I don’t want you to be gone from my life, Ryker. I don’t want you to be gone from Dan’s life. How can I get us to be friends?” Desperation filled her tone, and it broke me.

I didn’t want her out of my life, either. I couldn’t do friends. Or, I thought I couldn’t. But that hopeful glint in her eyes told me pretend friends would have to do. Because I’d fucked up and I owed her something .

“You don’t have to do anything.” I offered my hand. “Friends it is.”

She almost smiled. “Really?”

No. I’ll always want you much more than that. “Really.”

She shook my hand and thankfully took hers back quickly. I couldn’t handle the physical contact for long. Not with her. Her eyes dropped to the bandage on my arm and a concerned frown pulled on her lips. “Did you get hurt?”

“It was nothing.”

She bit her lip and nodded. I had a hate-love relationship with her lip-biting habit.

Right now, I hated it because I couldn’t do anything about it.

We stood in awkward silence until her phone rang.

She pulled it out of her back pocket and silenced it before speaking.

“Well, I gotta go.” She clasped her hands together. “I’ll see you, right?”

I can’t fucking breathe. “Yeah, you’ll see me.”

“Okay.” She darted her eyes around nervously, meeting my gaze only briefly. “Later then.”

She gave a small wave and walked out the door, taking my sanity with her.