Page 23 of Dirty Roulette

Chapter sixteen

Ryder

Isit on the edge of the mattress in my best jeans and a long-sleeve plaid Henley, with the price tag still on it.

I rip it off, tossing the plastic piece into the trash can.

The damn fact that I picked out a shirt from my mom to go out with Payton tells me that I’m a nervous wreck.

They were in an unopened box with a pair of rugged brown captain boots I also forgot she purchased for me at Christmas.

What guy in his right mind wears clothes from their mother at twenty-one to go hang out with a girl?

Somehow, I’m sweating my balls off. Payton’s seen me go out in a pair of shorts and a plain shirt. For fuck’s sake, I roamed in my boxer briefs all the time as a teen. It’s Payt, but too many mixed feelings batter all over. I want to make some type of impression.

Flipping through the bills in my wallet, I plot out how much I can afford tonight without breaking the bank.

When I check my phone, it’s 5:30. I’m impatient.

I’ve never stormed through the house and showered so quickly to get ready for anything.

I gather my keys and head out. When I park in front of the dorms, I climb up the three flights of stairs and knock on the door at 5:39.

It creeks open and Payton peeks out. “Oh, my god you’re early.”

I rub the crease of my neck. “Yeah, sorry, I couldn’t wait.” My heart pounds in my ears. She’s barely covered, obviously not dressed to go out, and I’m seriously nervous. “Are you alone?” I glimpse through the door, scanning to see if my sister is inside.

“Yeah.” She cracks the door wider but keeps herself barricaded. I slip through, and she closes and locks it behind me.

“Charlie dipped after showering.” She rummages through a hoarded closet with clothes spilling out and piling up into a mountain, while I try not to stare at her gorgeous body.

“I’m kinda surprised you didn’t want to hang out with her.”

She bites her bottom lip, “Well, I...”

“Yeah?” I glance down at Payton’s unmade bed with washed out Princess Jasmine sheets and sit.

“Umm...I wanted to see you. I didn’t know how to tell her.

” She says, staring up into outer space.

“Give me one second.” She holds out her finger.

I swallow hard as she closes the closet door, leaving it cracked.

I watch her quick movements as she pulls a shirt over her head with a plop, and weasels into a pair of jeans.

After she finishes with her clothes, I admire the freckles on her shoulder as she adjusts a spaghetti strap and smooths out the wrinkles.

Her jeans fit tight along her hourglass curves.

I poison my mind with the image of running my hands up her thighs and yanking them off, but I wipe the thought from my head.

“What?” she asks with a goofy smile.

“You’re... Uhh...” I’m choking on my own words. For some reason, I’m having a hard time breathing. She’s beautiful and dangerous. “Sorry...”

“Are you okay?” She asks with a nervous laugh.

I wipe my sweaty palms on my knees and pull myself together. I clear my throat. “You’re stunning. I can’t stop thinking about you and I’m sorry about last night. I wasn’t trying to upset you.”

She glances down at her feet and sways back and forth on her heel. “It’s fine. I get it. I probably wouldn’t be over my ex if we dated for three years and it’s barely been three months. I saw her kissing you earlier.” She bites the tip of her thumbnail.

Her eyes dart all over the room, avoiding mine.“She’s trying to get back together with me but...”

“But what?” She asks.

“I want you...”

She pauses, biting on her bottom lip, and fluttering her eyes as they fall to the ground. “Oh...”

The room goes still, with only the faint tick of air pooling out of the vent above me. “Where do you want to eat?” I ask. My pathetic attempt to tell her I like her didn’t do anything other than rip off a painful scab.

She tilts her head to one side. “You’re going to think I’m lame.”

I reach for her hand and pull her close. “Oh come on. I want to treat you.” My head rests between her breasts, and I kiss her collarbone. In an instant, her arms are infected with goosebumps, and her nose gets rosy red.

“Okay, hear me out.” She squeezes my shoulders. “There’s this hot dog stand...”

“Honey, I already have a hot dog stand for you. Just say the word, and it’s yours.”

She giggles as she dips her head to the side and pushes me in the shoulder. “You’re not gonna sleep with me that easily.”

“Okay, okay. Tell me about this hotdog place.”

She wraps her arms around my neck, leaning into me, and pecks me on the cheek.

“My Mum would take me once a month to get one of these hotdogs. You have to try them. They cook the hotdogs with a secret cooking oil and they don’t tell anyone.

It’s like one of those recipes grandma takes to her grave.

They taste like heaven. Oh my lord.” She leans her head back and groans. “They are so bomb!”

“You don’t want a fancy steak with lobster and some crazy girly salad?” I push away her hair, cupping her face as I peck her lips.

“No, I want to eat hot dogs. I’ve never shared this secret place with anyone.”

“Alright, special hot dogs it is.” I pat her waist, signaling her for us to hightail it out of here.

Payton grabs my index finger as we race out of the dorm and down the three flights of stairs to the parking lot. She lets go and runs to the Jeep, unsuccessfully pulling on the handle to the passenger side door.

“You’re not opening that yourself.” I dig in my pocket and unlock the Jeep, helping her in.

When I get in, she kicks open the glove box, flipping through her collection and tuning the stereo to her liking.

I back out of the parking lot and listen to her telling me how to drive.

Any time we have to turn, Payton stretches out the seatbelt, and pushes me on the shoulder, pointing at the sign.

She’s bossy, making me go left, then right.

There were a couple of instances where she shouts about stopping at a yellow light.

“Oh my god! We’re here!” Her fingers wiggle at a food truck wedged between two buildings. There are picnic tables with red and white striped umbrellas. The line doesn’t look too bad as I pull in and park.

This girl must have snorted cocaine because she leaps out of the Jeep and opens my door before I can even turn the vehicle off. “Hurry up! I’m hungry!” She crawls over my lap, unbuckling me, fisting my shirt, and tugging me out of the seat.

“The hot dogs aren’t going anywhere.”

I slide out, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into my chest. My lips brush against hers as we get in the line of people waiting to order. This feels more natural, like it should be something permanent.

When it’s our turn, she doesn’t get any luxury hot dogs on the list. All she asks for is something simple – mustard, ketchup, relish, and onions. That is all she wants. Then she digs through a deep fridge, pulling out a bottle of strawberry milk.

I get a couple of New York dogs, with a side of onion rings and soda.

The wait isn’t long. I have our baskets and plop down at one of the picnic tables with her sitting across from me.

She didn’t lie about being hungry – ketchup covers her fingers, and she’s licking off everything that spills onto her hands.

I’ve never wanted to be a piece of food so much in my life.

The hot dog disappears within a matter of minutes, and I still have one more dog to chow down.

“You know, I remember the first time I ever got drunk, and you’re the one to blame.” She steals an onion ring, dipping it into a cup of ketchup.

“What?” I ask in mid-chew, before grabbing my soda and taking several gulps to wash down the bun sticking to the roof of my mouth.

“Do you remember Kyle in eighth grade?”

“Sounds like a douchebag already.” I wipe my fingers on a napkin, staring at the way her chin lies on her hand. God, I could kiss her now.

“I got this Ramones shirt from Goodwill and his name was written on the tag.”

“Still not clicking, but keep going.” I dip my head to the left and take another bite.

“Well, he found out it was his shirt, and went around the school telling everyone he was my boyfriend, and I sucked him off in the girls’ bathroom.” She says with her mouth gaping open like it should be something I’ll always remember. “You seriously don’t remember this?”

I shake my head, as there isn’t a neuron finding the videotape to recap it for me. I’ve shoved a lot of memories from high school onto the back burner of my mind. But I’m curious for her to continue.

“Okay, well, these preppy bitches told the principal they saw me do it.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“No!”

“This happened in eighth grade?” I ask.

“Yeah, I remember coming over telling you how the principal wouldn’t even let me go pee until I admitted to it. I pissed myself in the office, and she forced me to go back to class.”

“Jesus.”

“You made me a screwdriver after school.”

“I did?” I ask, leaning over the picnic table, having no recollection of it. “I drank a lot of those when no one was looking. That’s probably why I don’t remember this.”

“I got super buzzed off it, and you gave me your jersey.”

The napkin crumbles in my fist as I dig around my brain for a moment, trying to locate the memory inside my head.

It's foggy and vague, and most likely because I drank my parents’ vodka all the time.

They blamed the empty bottles on each other, while it was my fingers tingling.

But a little neuron dusts off the videotape I’m searching for and hands the memory to me, much to my relief.

“I made you wear it the next day.” I look back at her and toss the napkin into an empty basket.

“Then you picked me up and kissed me on the forehead.” She rubs her hands together underneath the table with her cheeks flushing. “They all thought I was dating a Junior in high school. It was the coolest thing ever.”

“I always kissed you on the forehead after that, didn’t I?”

“Yeah... I kinda always had a little crush on you after that.”

“Uh... Payton.” I run both hands through my hair and stare down at the wooden picnic table. The crumbs and dried ketchup stains glare back at me. When I try to feel anything, I choke up. Right now, something has its claws wrapped around my lungs, refusing to let me free.

“You dated in high school, right?” I ask and lift up my head.

Her cute little button nose crunches up. “Not really.”

“You never sat there and made out with someone under the stairway?”

“No, umm...” Her laugh turns nervous and shy.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah...”

“Was I your first kiss?”

“Umm...” She visibly swallows, biting her bottom lip. “I’d make out with Charlie for shits and giggles, but with a guy... I uhh... yeah.”

I run a hand along my neck. Images of my sister aside, the fact that I was her first kiss in any real sense sends me reeling.

I can’t wrap a finger around how someone as gorgeous as her managed to walk with a diploma without dating one fool.

With one look from her blue eyes and thick lashes, I cave in. I need to kiss her again.

“Is there something wrong?” She asks.

“No... I’m just stealing all your firsts that you could be having with someone else.”

“Oh...” Her eyes dart around as she bites the inside of her cheeks. “I’m going to throw these away,” obviously trying to change the subject. She snags the baskets and empty drinks.

“No, wait.”

She gets up and walks to the trashcan on the other side of the food truck.

I follow behind her, and she turns around to face me.

“It’s just because it’s me... I dunno how to say it.

I’m not good with this sort of thing. I’d never really expressed my emotions to Brittni.

The whole ‘I love you’ thing came out of the blue one day from her mouth and I just said it back, but you.

..I care about you... I always have. I just never really noticed it before,” I confess.

“Okay...” she says, with an odd look on her face.

“I know you feel it too, you just admitted it so you can’t tell me you don’t.”

“But what if we finish Roulette and it ends? Things always end.” Her brows furrow as a pained expression finds its way across her face. She hugs herself as if it’s cold, but it’s still warm outside.

“It doesn’t have to end. Go out with me? Let’s try...” I ask.