Page 90 of Lizzie Blake's Best Mistake
“And your eyes? They kill me. My heart hasn’t beat in a steady rhythm since you started looking at me with those honey-colored eyes. I swear they change color with your mood. Browner when you’re mad. Glints of yellow when you’re excited. Small hints of green when you’re laughing.”
Lizzie’s lips parted. She wanted to say something. Anything. She wanted to pour words into him and fill him like they were filling her. But she couldn’t remember how to speak.
“Don’t get me started on your hair,” he continued, dragging his fingers through the strands. He caught a handful of the ends, and brought them up to his nose, inhaling deeply. “I should haveknown you’d wreck me with hair like this. It’s become my favorite color. If I were a poet, I’d fill volumes about your hair. I’d find a smarter way to describe it than long and thick and orangey-red.”
Lizzie laughed, moving to rub her nose against his. He planted soft kisses across her cheeks.
She let out a shaky breath, squeezing her eyes shut for just a moment. Lizzie was flooded by endless feelings. They were sharp and soft and delicate and fierce, and they all threatened to kill her or give her life. But she didn’t resist. She decided she would drown in all those feelings if it meant she could feel them with Rake. They looked at each other for a long time, eyes skimming and tracing features, memorizing them. There were certain words that were still unsaid—syllables still too scary to utter.
A soft knock on the door disrupted their private oasis. Lizzie’s eyes flicked to it across the room as Ryan’s voice traveled through the door.
“Lizzie? We are about to take off. I’d really like to talk to you.”
Lizzie sighed, turning her eyes back to Rake.
“You should talk to him,” he whispered, placing a kiss on her forehead. “We’ll come back to this. But you should hear him out.”
Lizzie swallowed and nodded. She wasn’t sure she’d ever actually be able to use words again.
“Give her one minute,” Rake called, breathing in Lizzie’s skin one last time before sitting up and pulling her with him.
He reached down, grabbing her dress, then turned to her, dressing her gently. He grabbed his own clothes, standing to shove his legs into his pants and quickly buttoning up his shirt, before striding across the room and opening the door, Lizzie following a few paces behind.
Ryan and Mary stood in the doorway, both with drawn and serious expressions on their faces.
“Ryan has something he wants to ask you,” Mary said at last, giving Ryan a little nudge.
Ryan cleared his throat. “Lizzie, I know… I… Do you two want to stay with us tonight? I’m guessing you wouldn’t want to stay here, but it’s late and we’d hate for you to have to drive back to Philly. We don’t live far, and we have a guest bedroom in our basement.”
Mary nodded, giving Lizzie a warm smile.
Lizzie glanced at Rake, and his look told her he’d go along with whatever she wanted.
“Okay,” Lizzie said, staring into Ryan’s eager and anxious eyes. She really did love him, and she still had a reckless shard of hope that they could come to know each other better.
Ryan nodded, looking like he was going to leave it at that. Mary nudged him again. Ryan cleared his throat.
“And, I just want to say. I’m sorry Mom and Dad are so shitty. And I’m sorry I’ve been… complicit in it.”
It was Lizzie’s turn to nod, emotions building in a steady pressure between her eyes and nose. She couldn’t think of what to say.
So, instead, she threw her arms around him, hugging her big brother with all the strength she could muster. And he hugged her back.
After a moment, Lizzie pulled away, fixing Ryan and Mary with a grin.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” she said.
Chapter 40
MARY and Ryan’s home was cozy and warm. They all made themselves comfortable in the living room, Lizzie and Rake snuggling into the plush love seat while Mary and Ryan sat on the light gray couch covered in pillows and blankets. The whole house held a softness that Lizzie wouldn’t have pictured for Ryan, a domesticity that she never associated with her brother. She realized that, as misunderstood as she’d felt by him growing up, she didn’t really know him either. And she wanted to change that.
The four of them talked for hours. While there was a tang of awkwardness at first, it quickly dissolved as they started laughing and joking with one another, carefully navigating the new territory of closeness they stood at the perimeter of.
Mary eventually yawned and stretched. “I’m dead tired,” she said, standing up. “I better head to bed. Lizzie, do you still plan on going to the party tomorrow?”
“No,” Lizzie said, shaking her head. “The cake is already at Mom and Dad’s, and I don’t think it’d be worth more fighting to show.”
Mary nodded. “I understand,” she said, reaching out a hand for Ryan. “Your parents weren’t so happy with us either afterRyan went off on them,” Mary added, folding up her blanket. “I’d be surprised if they even want us there tomorrow.”