Curse of the Wickeds (The Cinderella Society, Episode 2) (8 page)

We opted for one sundae and two spoons and took it outside to the bench by the go-cart track. I had the bowl balanced on my lap, Ryan had his arm around my shoulder, and every few bites our spoons would click together. He had to lean into me so he didn’t drip ice cream on my dress or his pants. It made my insides zing every time he did. Every time, like clockwork.

Tick, tock,
zing
. Tick, tock,
zing
.

If I were that kind of girl (and by
that kind of girl
I mean Fake Blondie), I would’ve ditched the sundae and pulled him into the bushes next to the parking lot. But of course, I’m the polar opposite of that kind of girl, so I kept the ice cream bowl on my legs and suppressed shivers each time he leaned in.

When we reached the bottom of the huge bowl, we headed for the car to get to the lake before the hot dog vendor closed up for the night. Not that I was hungry anymore, but an evening stroll by the lake with Ryan? Sign me up.

We’d parked near the road, and I stood unusually close to Ryan, hoping for a smooch before he deposited me in the car. Unfortunately, Ryan had better control than I had—or didn’t feel the same urges I did—so I sat down feeling like I’d somehow failed a test. Should I have made the first move? Was the new Jess a first-move kind of girl? I’d never been wired that way before. That was more Gennifer’s territory than mine.

He stepped back and swung the door closed as a dark blur shot past us, heading straight for the main road. I thought it was a dog, but before I’d even registered that it was a tiny rug rat, Ryan was sprinting after it.

Everything froze for a second, then seemed to go in slow motion. The little boy running through the grass next to the gravel road, the semi coming over the hill at the other end of the complex, the mother’s screams from the parking lot. Ryan trying to close the gap in time. I watched the disaster unfold like a movie. Fear paralyzed me, rooting my butt to the seat as the truck came barreling toward them.
 

The boy stumbled as he reached the gravel, the movement enough that he caught the driver’s eye. The horn blared, brakes squealing as the truck’s back end shuddered with the abrupt change in momentum. Ryan lunged to scoop his arms under the boy and yanked, pulling the boy to his chest as they tumbled sideways onto the grass. The truck swerved, spitting gravel up over them, and finally came to rest on the shoulder further down.

Ryan lay on his back, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession. The boy looked into Ryan’s eyes, cheeks quivering, and promptly burst into hysterics. Ryan tucked him into his chest as he regained his breath, then pushed off the ground with one hand.

With that simple move, everything broke loose.

The driver jumped out of the truck and rushed over, two terrified parents descended on the grass, and a dozen bystanders mobbed Ryan and the boy. The boy’s mother clutched her son for dear life, crying as loudly as her son, while the father pumped Ryan’s hand until I thought it would fall off from sheer force. The mother grabbed Ryan’s arm and drew him into a crushing hug, nearly smothering the little boy in the process.

Mayhem ensued as people comforted the parents, scolded the driver (who hadn’t done anything wrong), and drew even more onlookers to the road. The scene amassed such a giant crowd I couldn’t even see Ryan anymore. Once again, he was surrounded by the adoring masses.
 

Tears streaked down my cheeks as I thought about what could’ve been. What would’ve been if I’d made the first move. Thank God for my uncertainty. All things for a reason, even if we couldn’t see it at the time. His timing, always. Not mine.

I had just started wondering if I should go over or wait until things settled down when the driver’s-side door opened. Ryan ducked into the car and quietly closed the door, shaking his head firmly when I opened my mouth to speak. Not that any words would’ve come out anyway.

He backed out carefully and took the far exit. I didn’t fully realize what had happened until I saw the parents emerge from the throngs of people, looking everywhere.

Life was so tenuous, so fragile. Fifteen seconds could change a life forever. Ryan knew that better than anyone. The lives of those three people—a nameless mother, father, and little boy—were forever indebted to one person. A seventeen-year-old guy who’d slipped away like a shadow.

Ryan stared straight ahead and took back roads to the lake, never looking back and never saying a word.

Chapter Thirteen

After finding one lone hot dog cart still open for business and loading up with ketchup and mustard, we wandered down the boardwalk skirting the lake. The sun dipped low on the horizon as we settled under a tree. I picked at my food, not because I was full from the ice cream—even though I was—but because neither of us had broached the topic hanging in the air.
 

I watched him polish off his second hot dog. Saving lives must make a person hungry. “That was pretty incredible,” I said. The ultimate understatement.

Ryan gazed out over the lake, seeming a million miles away. “It was . . . I don’t know what.”

I couldn’t imagine what it felt like to save the life of another human being. The rush of adrenaline, the relief, the what-ifs that plagued my mind. What if the boy had run by an empty car instead of ours? What if we hadn’t seen him run by? What if Ryan hadn’t gotten there in time?

What if he’d leaned in for a kiss?

“You saved his life, Ryan.”

He stayed silent, eyes focused on the lake.
 

“You’re a—”

“Don’t,” he said sharply. He looked at me and softened, brushing my hair off my forehead in a way that was so intimate, yet so sweet. “Right place, right time. I got lucky.”

Every time I thought I understood him, he mystified me. “Why do you downplay it? It’s not like you can hide from being a hero.”

“I’m not hiding from anything.” His anger snapped at me again. “And I don’t play the hero game.”

I thought about the agony in those parents’ faces, the joy when they had their son safely back in their arms. “Why can’t you just admit you did a good thing?”

He pulled me up to stand close to him. “I’m sorry. It’s a sore subject, okay? Let’s go for a walk.”

I gathered up our trash to pitch. Ryan slipped his hand in mine, linking our fingers together in the fit I’d so quickly grown accustomed to. I wondered if there was a guys’ equivalent to Fortissima. If there was, it would be a sin if Ryan wasn’t destined for it.

The boardwalk went all the way around the back of the lake except for the sandy beach area, which had already started to clear out. We walked in sync, our feet moving in an even, unhurried rhythm. I felt Ryan relax for the first time since we’d left the Fun Zone.

He pointed out where he and Dale used to fish when they were kids. Where they’d spied on Cassie getting her first kiss (then followed her around for a week calling her Goose Lips).

We stopped at a secluded section of railing and watched the sun as it touched the horizon. Ryan snuggled in behind me and put his arms on either side to grasp the railing. The sky glowed with honeyed hues of pink and red, and I leaned back into his warmth, tuning into the quiet evening sounds and the solid feeling of being with Ryan. Just being.

The sun slipped from view, and Ryan nuzzled my temple with his jaw, a tiny bit of stubble abrading my skin. “This feels right,” he whispered.

A sigh escaped my lips as he turned me toward him. His eyes were dark and intense, and I lost myself in them, in the moment, in Ryan.

“You make me feel alive, Jess.” He slid his fingers along my neck and wove them through my hair.

His lips were gentle as they found mine, but when he angled my head, the kisses went deeper, sending sparks all the way down to my toes.

It was well after dark when the kisses became shorter and lighter, and Ryan finally set me away from him. His eyelids were heavy and hooded, matching the rush of emotions I felt in my chest, and I knew it had cost him. The realization made me feel vulnerable but safe. And cherished. Very, very cherished.

We took our time walking back toward the car, my head resting on his shoulder and our fingers laced together in perfect harmony.

We drove home in companionable silence, my hand missing the intimate contact with his but my mind relieved that he was a careful driver. Which made me think of his mom. “I know I already said this, but I’m sorry about your mom,” I said into the dark.

The oncoming headlights cast his face in shifting shadows. I saw him swallow. He reached for my hand at a stop sign and planted a soft kiss on my palm. “Thanks.”

When we got to my house, the walk to the door was so different from last time. Standing on the porch, awash in bright parental-induced light, he touched his forehead to mine. “See me again.”

“Will you be at the banner party?” I’d been crossing my fingers since Sarah Jane had mentioned that the football team usually made an appearance at the cheerleaders’ annual banner-making shindig on Sunday.

“I have to work the whole weekend.” He nuzzled my ear. “I definitely want to see you again, though. In private.”

“I’m working Monday and Tuesday. Tuesday night?”

He groaned and placed my palm on his chest. I felt his heartbeat beneath my fingertips, the quick rhythm almost matching my own.

“That’s too long. But I’ll take what I can get.” He lifted my hand to his lips. “Don’t forget about me before then, okay?”

I smiled, feeling the distinct sensation of getting pulled under by something that felt a lot like love. “Ditto.”

He smiled and dropped my hand as he stepped back onto the path, waiting for me to go inside. I turned inside the doorway and gave him a shy wave before closing the door.

Mom stood in the archway separating the kitchen from the hall, a mug of hot cocoa warming her hands. She took one look at me and gave a fleeting smile. “Is he The One?”

“I hope so.”

She nodded her head and blew on the steaming mug I could see was laced with marshmallows of her own. “God help us.”

Chapter Fourteen

I took the most luxurious bath imaginable, indulging in two of Mom’s fizzy apricot tabs and a full cap of my almond oil bubble bath. I rested my head on the spa pillow and replayed every minute of our date (okay, I replayed the kissing part several times) until the water was lukewarm and Mom was knocking to ask if I was a prune yet.

By the time I’d dried off, I was completely exhausted, exhilarated, and on emotional overdrive. It would be Tuesday before I managed to get any sleep, at the rate I was going. I turned on my computer to see if Sarah Jane had e-mailed the schedule for our next few practices. Ever on the ball, she had. I just hoped Lexy wouldn’t be at all of them.

I scanned the junk that had snuck through my spam filter, deleting it before closing down. My mouse pointer hovered over Shut Down when an IM popped up.

First&Goal: tuesday’s too long... i’ll find a way to be there on sunday

My butterflies fluttered their approval. Definitely The One.

WillCheer4Food: that would be awesome
 

First&Goal: i don’t think i can sleep tonight

First&Goal: will u be up for a while?

Mom knocked, and I closed the lid to my laptop.
 

“We’re going to bed, honey. I’m glad you had fun on your date.” She shuffled over and brushed the bangs off my forehead in her Mom-ish way, so different than when Ryan had done it.

I gave her a hug, thinking about Mrs. Steele. “Get some sleep for the little guys.”

Mom’s hand supported her back as she made her way to the door. “I would if they’d stop playing soccer with my bladder.”
 

“Yuck, Mom. TMI.”

“I’ll try to keep the
I
to myself. Oh, can you help me pick out a rocking chair for the twins’ room tomorrow? I thought you’d want a say, since you’ll be helping out with feedings.”

The feeding thing was news to me, and I felt the lingering resentment simmering in my stomach.
I’m not the hired help,
I wanted to say. “I already have plans. You can pick out whatever you want.”

“But I want you to be comfortable in it.” She leaned against the door frame. “You’re back to being gone again all the time. I feel like I never get to see you.”

Except when she needed me to do something for the babies. “That’s because I finally have a life.” It came out like a dig, even though I tried to keep my tone in check. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I’m happy. Can’t you just be happy for me too?”

“I’m always happy if you’re happy, Jess. How could you ever think I’m not? I know we haven’t always . . .”
 

Her voice drifted away, cutting off the line of questioning. I breathed a tiny sigh of relief. Now wasn’t the time.
 

Mom turned and waddled out the door, looking sad. “Not too late,” she reminded me and clicked the door closed.

I listened to her feet retreat down the hall.

WillCheer4Food: sorry. parents are off to bed.

First&Goal: can i call u?

First&Goal: i want to hear your voice