My bedroom was swarmed with makeup, curling irons, skimpy dresses, and the goddess-like voice of Rihanna. Leah was fussing over what top to wear whilst Cora finished applying her lipstick. Ezekiel had just finished tying half my hair back.
"I've only been to The Incubus a few times." Cora told everyone.
"It's Rya and I's favourite club of all time." Ezekiel smiled at me through the mirror.
Cora eyed me tauntingly and I once again mentally begged her to not say anything. "It's a great atmosphere." I explained.
"I can imagine." She sent me a subtle wink and I almost recoiled into myself.
I tried to push back the image of a very drunk Cora spilling the secret that her mother owned a sex club, and I was a frequent visitor. Jesus, what would people think of me?
Ezekiel glanced concerning over his shoulder at a very frantic Leah. "For the love of God, girl. Are you on crack?" we all swivelled our views to stare at Leah as she held two tops in each hand, her breathing a little erratic.
She huffed and plopped the tops down on my bed. "I've never being clubbing before."
Ezekiel's eyes popped out of his head, "I'm sorry what?!"
"How?" Cora chuckled astonishedly. "What did you do for your 21st?"
"We went to a Dive Bar." She explained. "Then I went home, cried, and finished a bottle of white wine."
"You cried on your 21st birthday?" Ezekiel pointed a hairbrush in her direction.
"Yes..." she sheepishly shrugged. "It was because of a boy." The way she said it made it sound like a perfect excuse. It wasn't.
"And who in the Jake Gyllenhaal was that?" he asked.
Leah took a shivering breath that I only seemed to notice, "No one important." She suddenly seemed sullen as she walked into the bathroom.
That wasn't good. "Give me a second." I turned to Ezekiel and got up from the chair, following her.
"Hey." I softly spoke as I closed the door behind me. Leah was busy securing the knot at the top of her head in the mirror. It reminded me of Pamela Anderson's iconic 90's messy bun.
"Hey." She attempted to be absentminded, but I knew the stress of the club and the mention of what I can only assume was her ex ruining her 21st was putting her over the edge.
"I thought you said you and Adam broke up the summer before Sophomore year." For some reason I believed that since then he'd been completely out of the picture.
"We did." She frowned.
"But he ruined your 21st?" the anger I held towards that guy only multiplied when I looked at Leah's facial expression.
Sienna used to date Adam on and off for years. He completely toyed with her, calling it quits and hooking up with other girls, only to come crawling back to her when he felt sad. And she took him back. Every. Single. Time.
I refused to comprehend the situation. Sure, the guy had a lot of issues. Some of which Sienna disclosed to me, many of which she didn't. Despite that, I couldn't imagine any of his secret issues being a reasonable excuse to act like a fuck-face of a human being.
"How did you know –" and turned around and took one look at my knowing expression. "... He texted me." Her eyes became red. Panic started to thrum through me. I wasn't good at tears. Oh no. I shouldn't had brought this up.
"It's so stupid." She laughed sadly, quickly wiping her eyes before any tears escaped. "Happy 21st, Leah. Who the fucks says that? It'd been over a year and... and..." she couldn't finish her sentence.
"He's an asshole." I told her. I watched her nod and turn back to face the mirror. "Boys always come crawling back, but that boy doesn't deserve you."
She stared down at the sink and laughed softly, "That's what Chris said." My heart stopped. "He stayed on the phone with me for two hours the next morning as I cried. He always hated him."
"We finally agree on something." I meant to say it in my head but unfortunately, my mouth decided to open.
Leah watched as I rubbed my arms that were crossed across the chest. My dress was black with a high neckline and long-sleeves. Ezekiel called me a nun before he noticed the completely backless element and that it rested high on my thighs.
"I wanted to ask you something, Rya." Leah then said, catching my eyes in the mirror.
"Sure." I stood a little straighter.
She turned around and shifted on her heels. "Well... It's my birthday at the end of the month." For a moment I'd forgotten January had passed and February had arrived. "And all this discussion about a shit 21st makes me think that I can do a do-over. Like a fun 22nd?"
"I think that's a good idea." I replied. I hoped she wasn't expecting me to plan it. I was already trying to help Sienna with wedding prep.
"I was thinking of flying some of my friends in LA out and I was going to see if Sienna and Taylor wanted to fly out for it too. Of course, you and Ezekiel. Maybe Cora too. She seems really sweet." it was more adorable that Cora said the exact same thing about Leah.
It sounded good to me, and Leah deserved a good birthday. I was positive Sienna would fly out for it too. If she couldn't, I would personally drag her over. And Roman. Just for amusement purposes.
"And I was hoping for Chris to come too." I froze. Oh no. "I know you hated him back in high school, but it's been years – and if he really makes you uncomfortable I won't – but I'd love him there and –"
"It's okay." I stopped her rambling. Leah would consider uninviting her own family so I wouldn't feel uncomfortable at her birthday party. God this girl had the most considerate heart of gold.
"I... I can tolerate Christopher – like you said, it's been years." You can do a lot more than tolerate him, Rya. You've had him inside of you. Shut up.
"Really?" her eyes lit up. If it was possible to feel happiness and nausea at the same time, I was writhing in it.
"Of course. Plus, I think you deserve the best 22nd." I had to talk to Knowles about this. How were we supposed to act? Leah could not find out about us on her birthday. We weren't even an 'us'. We could tell her before. But then would she feel weird about us both being there?
"Thanks, Rya." Happiness came back into her face.
I walked over and slung my arm around her shoulder, "Anytime. Oh, and wear the blue top. It's super cute."
"Thanks." She laughed.
The Incubus was packed as usual. I managed to get us a taxi. We met Taylor and at least nine other guys outside the club, and with one quick mention of my name to the bouncer, we were all in.
"That was impressive." Taylor laughed in astonishment by my side. "How come you never used that name in high school."
"I was born with McCoy." I explained. "Plus, if I used it people would treat me much differently – including teachers. I wanted to beat everyone fair-and-square." And I did. Go me.
"You haven't really changed a lot. Still the same old competitive Rya." He mused as the vibrations of the music pulsating all around us, the thick ardour of body and alcohol, and the signature blue and purple lights blazed across the atmosphere.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I took to insult.
Taylor held his hands up in defence, "Nothing bad, don't worry. It's nice how some things stay the same no matter how much time goes by."
"Oh." It was like a little hamster full of rage was constantly spinning in its defensiveness wheel inside me. "Thanks... I guess."
Taylor only laughed for my sake.
The girls and I went to the bar as Ezekiel chatted with some of the Princeton players.
"I always forget how cool this place is!" Cora shouted over the music, a tequila sunrise in her hand. Turned out she was a huge fan of cocktails.
"I know!" Leah agreed. I was nervous about Leah before entering the club. The whole chat in my bathroom made me think the club would be too overwhelming but fifteen minutes in and a couple Malibu lemonades later, she was beaming with excitement.
Cora glanced over my shoulder at a couple of the Princeton guys. "Some of those guys are so hot." She flushed deeply, suddenly becoming nervous.
"Shut. Up! Cora likes a boy!" I sang out loud and her eyes went wide. She placed her hand over my mouth and shushed me.
"Who is it?!" Leah hung onto her arm, bouncing up and down as she demanded to know. I remembered Knowles saying how curious and demanding Leah could get but I didn't see anything bad about it. Especially over something like this.
"I'm not saying anything – ew!" she flinched her hand away from my lips as I licked her palm. "You're disgusting."
"Don't shut me up. Now tell us who it is!" she nervously gathered her hair at the back of her neck like she was getting hot. Ooooo she really liked this guy.
Leah seemed like she was about to say something else, but Cora cut in, "Okay!" quickly, she chanced another glance over my shoulder before looking back at us. "The guy in the red shirt." She muttered.
Leah and I instantly stared towards the group of boys, scouting out who she meant. "Oh my God, don't make it obvious!" Cora hissed.
Too late, I'd found him and, damn, she was not wrong. He was way over 6ft with ripped dark brown skin, cropped short hair, sharp jawline and cheekbones, sporting a killer smile. My panties almost dropped.
"I mean, I'd fuck him." I stated bluntly. Because I would. Well, maybe I would have if it wasn't for...
"Same." Leah caught me off guard saying, and I raised my brows at her. "What?! I'm not blind."
Fair enough.
Cora whipped around to fully face us. "Let's leave it. He probably won't even notice me."
"Hold it right there!" I placed my drink on the bar, covering the top with my palm. "We do not talk self-deprecatingly here."
"We don't?" Cora frowned.
I shook my head firmly, "No we don't. And I know your mom would kill you for saying stuff like that." She could not otherwise convince me that a smart and successful woman like Laura, her mother, would allow her daughter to shit on herself.
Cora looked like she was about to argue before her shoulders slumped. "Yeah... she would."
"Ooooo, we do these things in yoga called affirmations." Leah interjected.
Oh God. "Not yoga." Anything but yoga. I was positive Ezekiel, and his previously popped balls would agree with me. That was if popping your balls was even a thing. He still refused to tell me.
"They're like sayings. We should all do them!" She brightened up at the thought.
Cora smiled softly, "Leah, that's cute and all but how is that going to help me snag that hot, gorgeous, mountain of a man?"
"I could ask Taylor if –"
"No!" she pointed a harsh finger in my direction.
I never really thought much about talking to men. Mainly because sex was the only thing on my mind. And whilst clubbing I became someone completely different; no one knew me, I could be whoever I wanted. That probably didn't work for some girls but the minute I begin to get into my head, it was game over for me. Best to just get out of it for a while and pretend.
"Can you all just repeat after me?" Leah asked. Cora sighed, giving in, and I took one long sip of my drink. "Okay, I am confident."
"I am confident." Cora and I said in union.
"I am loveable."
"I am loveable."
"I am kind."
"That one's debatable." I laughed into my drink. Leah shot me evil eyes and that look from such a sweet being was pretty disturbing. "Fine... I am kind." Kind-of a bitch. I wasn't ashamed.
"I am hot."
"I am hot." I had to give it to Leah, it was sort of uplifting, I even started to see Cora smile.
"I am the best."
"I am the best though –."
"Rya!" Leah snapped.
"Geez, sorry. Maybe I am self-aware." I mocked and Cora snorted.
Leah rolled her eyes before turning to Cora. "D'you feel better, or did I just make you feel really stupid."
"You know what at first, I felt really stupid but now I kind of feel a lot better. Maybe I should take up yoga." Cora chuckled.
"Don't." I warned. I would explain Ezekiel and his potentially popped ball, but this wasn't the time nor place.
Cora down the rest of her drink before tipping her head upside down and fluffing her hair back up. "I've got this."
"You do!" Leah cheered. Cora pulled her in for a hug before strutting towards to a particular Princeton player.
Glancing back at Leah, I smiled. "You know you're like... a really good person, right?"
"You think?" she tilted her head in contemplation. Hell, if Leah questioned whether or not she was a good person, there was no chance I was one. This girl was a raging ball of sunshine.
"Oh, I know." I noticed her bright smile as she turned towards the bar and waited for the bartender to take her order. After getting her probably third Malibu lemonade, she studied The Incubus's interior wide-eyed.
"... You know D'Angelo Enterprise owns this place?" instantly, I recognised the name of the company she was interviewing for.
Finishing my drink, I placed it on the bar. "Really?"
"Yep." She took a sip of her new drink. "They own three more as well, Obsidian, The Veil, and Illusion. The Incubus makes four."
I'd been to both Obsidian and The Veil. Obsidian was more punk rock. The Veil had an R&B vibe going for them, even had 90s night every Friday. Even though I'd never stepped foot into Illusion, I'd heard it was very EDM. The Incubus was a good mix and drum-and-base and mainstream.
"I had no idea there were all owned by the same company." That was pretty impressive. They must make millions every weekend.
"Yep. Plus, they own an airline, three five-star hotels in Monte Carlo, Rome and London as well as a publishing house."
I had no idea how extensive the company Leah was interviewing for was but fucking hell. I knew it was a powerhouse, but the CEO must make billions at this rate. This also meant this internship was going to be really difficult to get.
"You really want this internship, don't you?" I asked.
Leah nodded, "More than anything. When I became single, I felt like I'd lost myself. I became so concerned with my boyfriend and his issues and what he wanted that I never gave myself the chance to figure out me. What I wanted. And well... this is what I want."
I was so proud of Leah I couldn't put it into words. Just remembering the shy, timid girl back in high school was like another person to the confident, determined woman in front of me.
Everyone had changed. And I'd stayed so much the same.
Taylor's comment and the beginning of the night didn't bother me then so it shouldn't bother me now. He didn't mean it in a nasty way. But it was so true. I hadn't changed a lot. I was still the same old Rya.
"Hey girls!" Taylor called over. Both of us swivelled our heads in his direction. "Come take some shots with us!" a guy next to him was holding a tray of about fifteen shots. Usually, I'd be so down. Yet I couldn't shake this feeling, the more I tried to bury it, the more it intensified.
"You go ahead." I gestured to Leah. "I... I need to find the bathroom."
Leah's eyebrows furrowed in concern, "Are you okay?"
I tried to fake a smile. I was awful at smiling let alone faking one, but I prayed to God this worked. "Yeah. Totally. I just really need to pee." I laughed it off.
"Okay... I'll make sure we don't move spots." She told me and I appreciated the gesture.
The minute she left me I turned and attempted to navigate my way through the crowds. I knew this club like the back of my hand however with my thoughts running wild, I was struggling.
What was happening to me lately? First, I freaked out about loneliness, now it's about staying the same? Fuck, what was going on inside my head?
It was as if a storm of obsessive and panicking thoughts sucked every emotion up and spit them out. My body was on damaged high-wire.
Lost in my own head, my heel caught on someone's shoes, and I stumbled forward, shoving into someone.
"Fucking hell! Why do drunk girls where heels when all they're going to do is fall the fuck over –" the guy turned around and such familiar warm eyes met mine. "Rya?"
Every single breath in my body was cut short. I couldn't inhale or exhale or even speak for that matter. For the first time in my life, it seemed like I was losing my grasp on logic and sanity. It made me find breathing even harder.
"Hey, you okay?" Christopher placed a gentle hand on my arm.
I tried to nod. It was a small gesture and my throat closed too tightly, prohibiting me from producing any sound.
His eyes flickered to my bobbing throat, eyes that I only realised now had glazed over, then my hands that began to tremble.
Concern filled his features. "Come on." He placed a soft hand on my back and guided me through the crowds. The music pumped too loud, the bodies got too close, the air became too tight.
"Hey! No customers behind the bar!" I registered an older man shouting.
"Fuck off, Steve!" Knowles yelled back and guided me behind the bar and through a small, dark hallway. Pushing a door labelled 'EXIT', the cold and callous February air bit at the exposed skin on my back.
"Rya." I heard my name and Knowles came into view. Why was he here? Where were we? "Hey, look at me." He reached his hands out to cup my face but stayed a few centimetres away from touching my skin. "Breath, angel. I'm here." He whispered.
I hadn't realised how erratic my breathing became until I was covered in silence. My closed-up throat was dry, and my hands continued to tremble, becoming hot and clammy.
"Can you hear me? Tell me five things you can see?"
Five things I could see? What use was that? "You." I instantly said, my voice croaky and staggered, "Um... a wall?" where was I? my eyes darted around frantically. "A trash can... a tree." My eyes glanced up the sky. "The moon."
"Good." He nodded; his brows pulled together. "Four things you can hear?"
"You." Finally, I was able to swallow but my throat was still too dry. "Erm... the music." It wasn't as loud, but the faint beats echoed outside. This must've been a smoking area for staff as I could hear the bustle of the city behind the wall. "Traffic." I managed to say, my heartbeat pounded, "My heart" I quickly blurted.
"Can you touch three objects for me, tell what they feel like." My head pounded but my heartbeat slowed slightly, and I rested my back against the wall. "The wall, it's brick and... rough." It actually felt refreshing against my back. "And the wind, it's harsh but kind of cooling." He smiled softly.
My hands still trembled a little as I reach out and touched his neck, gently grasping onto the back. "And you... you're cold." He was freezing.
He chuckled, "And you're boiling." He rested a palm against my forehead. The coldness of his hand felt nice and began to calm me. "What are two things you can smell?"
"Alcohol." Someone must have spilled their drink on me as a mix of beer and vodka infiltrated my senses. "And... like... I think... um, I-I don't know, like cedar-wood?" You.
"What can you taste?" he cups my cheeks now, his thumb slowly caressing.
"Cranberry." My vodka cranberry was stirring in my stomach and for a moment I thought I was about to throw it up. Yet my heartbeat had slow, so had my shaky hands and crazed breath. Everything was calmer. I leaned my head against the cool, brick wall, small stones poking into my back, but it was okay.
Knowles took a deep breath and scanned over my face, placing a hand back on my forehead. "You're cooler now."
"I'm always cool."
He broke out into gentle laughter, his features brightening up. It was really pretty.
Wait, what?
"That was such a shit comeback." He spoke.
A soft smile pulled at my lips, "I know." He brushed some strands of hair behind my shoulder and took a step closer to me. "Why are you here?" he didn't work here. Yet he wore black pants and a black T-shirt which was casual for him. I couldn't recall a time I'd seen him wear a plain old cotton T-shirt. It even had the blue and purple logo that belonged to The Incubus.
"One of the guys I work with works here. He asked me to cover his shift last minute because he couldn't find a co-worker here to do so." He explained. That made sense. "Plus, the extra money is nice."
"Did you look at any of the links I sent you? For jobs." I asked. I sent him about three or four this morning. I was also trying to shift his focus from my current state.
"Yeah." He twirled a strand of my hair around his finger. "They looked good, I'm going to send in a few applications. Thank you for doing that."
"It's no problem." I shook my head. He stared at me for a minute, and I didn't mind. His eyes held such a warmth that I didn't care how invasive they felt.
For my 21st birthday, Sienna gifted me a super old copy of Jane Eyre. I wasn't a big fiction reader, but she told me to highlight all the phrases and factual information I learned. As if that would make me read it.
Well, she knew me too well because it did.
I remembered one of the quotes I highlighted, 'the soul, fortunate, has an interpreter – often an unconscious but still a faithful interpreter – in the eye'.
I wasn't a poetic person. I remembered highlighting the quote because I believed the eyes were the bodies most expressive feature. Psychologists could learn a lot from the look in a patient's eyes.
Now the quote rang in my mind, and I was beginning to question another meaning. "Why d'you keep looking at me like that?" I whispered.
He seemed startled for a moment before changing his expression to more concerned, "Like what?"
"Like..." like my presence means a lot more to you than you make it seem.
"Rya..." I didn't know what he was going to say, and fear creeped up in my face. "How long have you been having panic attacks?"
I pulled away from him slightly. Panic attacks? I blinked a few times, trying to digest his question. "I don't –"
"Don't lie to me. You just had one."
"I've never had a panic attack before." I replied honestly. I just had a panic attack? No, there was no way. I always got stressed but it never went to that level. And my stress was always about my academics or career it was never about something so emotional. What did that mean for me?
I push away a little more and walked over to the opposite wall, trying to collect my thoughts.
"You haven't?" Knowles' voice echoed behind me.
No. "No, I never... you can't tell anyone." All of a sudden, I turned to face him, pointing a finger.
His eyes narrowed in confusion, "Who would I tell?"
In reality, who could he tell? Still, the thought stressed me out. "I don't care but you can't say a word to anyone." What would people think? That I couldn't handle myself? That I couldn't keep myself in control? I was always in control. Always organised. I had everything together perfectly.
"Rya," He walked towards me and lowered my pointed finger. "Why are you so worried about people finding out?"
I straightened up, "I'm not worried and I'm not weak."
I thought that would shut him up, but he only became more worried. "It's not weak to have a panic attack. You're stressed and upset, and sometimes our bodies and minds freak out. It's okay, Rya."
"No." I shook my head frantically, stepping away from him. "Stop doing that." I demanded. He was trying to make this more emotional. More sensitive. I was fine.
He let out a small laugh from frustration, "Doing what?"
"Patronising me!"
"I'm not patronising you!" Exasperation overtook him, raising his voice yet still keeping it sturdy.
"You are! You just want to rub my weak moment in my face!" maybe I was overreacting, but I couldn't help it. I had my shit together, nobody needed to see otherwise. I was reliable and strong and completely put together.
"I'm worried about you!" he shouted. "For fuck's sake, you're not okay, Rya, and that's okay. You need to trust me when I say that."
He was worried about me? On instinct, I turned my back to him, palms sweeting so I had to run them down the front of my dress. "I think I need to go –"
"Don't do that." he cut me off.
"Do what?"
"Pull away." My ears picked up a careful footstep forward. "I understand, it's scary to be vulnerable. Being vulnerable doesn't make you weak though. It makes you human." I heard a couple more steps. "You are human, Rya. It's not healthy for you to try and pretend you're fine all the time."
"I am fine." But those words felt so hard to say. My throat began to close, and my vision clouded. I focused on the floor but the minute I put my head down, a tear fell. Dammit.
A hand rested on my shoulder, causing me to turn and look up. His eyes widened and a muttered curse left his lips. Before I knew it, he'd pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms around me.
I broke down.
Cries left my throat, tears streamed down my cheeks, dampening his shirt. His arms tightened around my frame as my hands rested on his abdomen. The tears wouldn't stop. I couldn't stop them.
"Shhhh." He rested his chin on top of my head, "I've got you."
My fingers bawled the fabric of his T-shirt, every breath I took shook, and my eyes began to swell from the tears. Everything I'd felt this last month, the loneliness, the anxiety of being left behind, the stress of college and my career. It all came flooding out like a destructive hurricane.
Yet no matter how destructive I thought it was. Chris held it in his arms like it was something precious to protect. My brain couldn't wrap around how someone could take something so ugly and wretched and hold it between their hands like a pool of delicate beauty.
When my tears slowed and steady breaths replaced my cries, he tilted my chin up to meet his eyes. "D'you feel better?"
As much as I didn't want to admit it, I did. So, I nodded.
A caring smile pulled at the corners of his lips. "You need something to drink." It wasn't a question.
"I don't want any alcohol." I scrutinized.
He chuckled, "I was going to suggest water."
"Oh." I shivered from the cold air whipping against my bare back. Almost like he read my mind, he played his fingers on my back and rubbed up and down to warm me up. "I can get it myself."
"I know you can but I'm getting it for you." He told me. I began to pull from his grip. "You can and like doing things for yourself, I get that. However, going back into the noise and lights after just having a panic attack could trigger you again. You need to take a couple minutes more."
I did like doing things for myself. I was so used to it, but it helped me feel in control. After feeling so out of control, I wanted it back again. Although – and I hated admitting he was right but – he was right. The thought of that noise and lights alone made my palms sweat and stomach swirl. I could admit that in my head. He didn't need to hear it out loud.
"Is there a warmer place?" I asked, the coldness now traveling up my neck.
"I think there's a breakroom back down the hall. You can wait there whilst I get you a glass of water, okay?"
"Okay." I took a deep breath, and he guided me out of his arms and back through the door. The intense thrumming of the music – pretty sure it was SZA – didn't feel as intense as it did before. Although the vibrations pounded against my head, and I was glad I wasn't heading back out to the bar.
Instead, Knowles opened a door and let me into a dimly lit room with navy walls and a two purple couches. An old coffee table sat in the middle with a few empty mugs and a Cosmopolitan magazine.
I plopped down, tucking my legs to the side and sinking into the back of the couch. So many thoughts span through my head, and I wondered whether Leah or Cora was getting concerned by my absence.
I started to worry. I didn't want to ruin their night. Maybe I could slip out and bare the few moments of noise to tell them I was okay? Just before I made any move, however, Knowles was back.
He handed me a glass of water and sat down next to me. For a moment, he stayed still, watching me take a few sips before placing the almost half empty glass down on the table.
"Better?" he asked.
I let out a long exhale, "Yeah... why were you out on the dancefloor by the way? I couldn't help but ask. Weren't bartenders supposed to be, you know, behind the bar?
"Someone threw up in the VIP section and they asked me to clean it up." He grimaced at the memory.
"Gross." I cringed. "Isn't that technically unfair considering you don't officially work here."
He shrugged, "Sometimes you've got to do what you've got to do. How come you're here tonight?"
"I'm out with friends." I replied. I hesitated over what I said next, "I'm here with Leah actually."
His eyes widened, "Leah's at a club?"
"Don't get all protective over her." A familiar sternness ringing in my tone. "She deserves to have a good night."
"I wasn't going to. I'm only surprised because she's never been clubbing before."
"I think she's trying new things." I confessed. "Stepping out of her comfort zone a little."
He nodded slowly, taking the information in, "I think that's good for her." It was nice watching him be so supportive of Leah. She genuinely deserved it.
I remembered our conversation in my bathroom earlier tonight. A concern lingered in my mind. "She's planning on having a 22nd party. And you're invited by the way." And I didn't know how we're supposed to act around each other in public now.
His jaw clenched and for a moment confusion rattled my brain. That was before he said, "Because of her shit 21st?" oh, the anger suddenly made sense. I didn't blame him. I couldn't believe what Leah had told me about her last birthday. However, I seemed to remember something else.
"She told me you stayed on the phone with her for two hours the next morning." I recalled.
"Half of that time was her trying to convince me not to fly out to LA and see her, or not to fly out to Florida and beat the shit out of her pathetic ex-boyfriend." Woah. I'd never heard him get violent before. Of course, I'd sent plenty of violent threats his way and he'd send some back. Despite that, the look in his eyes here was real. A pitiless darkness simmering in raw aggression.
I couldn't imagine him getting into a fight. My mind flickered back to the night I went to his work, and we made a tequila sunrise behind the bar. That was the night some asshole started creeping on a young girl. Even then, he didn't beat the guy up. He threatened him, and I wondered what would have happened if the guy swung at him. Would he have fought back?
"I sent her a key to my apartment after that. And I told her she could visit whenever she needed." I remembered Leah using it when I was hiding in his apartment bathroom. I'd berated him for it then and guilt struck me now.
I turned my head, but his gaze remained on the coffee table. "I'm looking after her." I told him. "Truly. I'm making sure she's okay."
Finally, his gaze met mine and the darkness he once held softened. "Thank you."
The gratitude warmed something inside of me. He really loved Leah and there was something so honest and pure about it. It showed him in a whole new light.
"So, what are we going to do?" I then asked. He started at me, not comprehending. "About her 21st. We'll both be there. Do we pretend we don't know each other?"
"We already know each other." He reminded me. "It depends if we pretend..."
"That we don't necessarily wish death upon the other every minute of the day?" if I was told that at eighteen, I would have thrown a fit. Yet after recent events, sleeping with him, all the things he did and was doing tonight. I couldn't stand there and disrespect or even disregard all of that.
Christopher Knowles drove me insane. He irritated me, antagonised me, said the most blood-boiling things to tic me off. There were numerous moments where vomiting sounded significantly better than complimenting his outrageous and audacious ego.
Despite that, if he didn't exist, I wouldn't be where I was. Especially tonight. I didn't have to admit it right now, but my appreciation for his existence was rising at a scary rate.
He laughed, his body finally relaxing as he laid back against the sofa. "I was going to say whether we pretend to be civil or not."
I chuckled and reached for my glass of water. "I don't think there's anything civil about us." As I took a sip, he rested his head back against the couch, turning to look at me.
"I like that you argue with me." He confessed.
My heart stopped. "You do?" I held the glass by my chest.
"It excites me."
I draw my brows together in bewilderment. "What like... sexually?"
He shrugged.
My mind raced at the confession. "Wait so do you get a hard-on every time I say I want to chock off your penis?"
He laughed and rubbed his eyes, probably because I called his dick a 'penis' but I couldn't understand the startlingly intimate confession "That makes me sound insane, doesn't it?"
I was laughing now. So in shock I didn't know what else to feel. "Kind of... that's so masochistic."
"It's not really the phase 'I want to chop off your penis', it's more the... the comebacks, I guess. The wittiness. You don't back down and as much as I hate to admit it, it's hot."
I placed the glass back on the coffee table. I didn't know what to say but the spill of honesty made me want to share something. "I think I like being submissive in bed because it's the only time in my life where I allow myself to not be in control."
I'd never fully accepted that part of myself. It was hard to digest something that utterly contradicted my obsession, this dictating, needy impulse of mine. It was who I was. It was so important to me and for a moment I let it all go like it meant nothing. I couldn't comprehend it. And not being able to understand something terrified me.
"Is that why you had a panic attack?" Knowles asked. "Because you felt out of control?"
My eyes flickered away from his and I hugged my knees up to my chest. "I think it's because of lots of things." I whispered, more to myself than him.
He rested his arm of the back on the couch and moved a little closer to me. "I don't want to force you to tell me anything but... maybe if you talk about it, you'll feel better." Maybe you need to let it out.
Hesitant, I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "I don't really know how it works." I began. "Maybe it's because I've been feeling so out of myself. It started with the loneliness and then I realised how everyone in my life is so ahead of the game."
I didn't want to look at him, so I focused on my knees and took a deep breath. "Everyone, everything is changing, and I can't help but feel – and this is going to sound so stupid – but I feel left behind. Stuck even."
A hand rested under my chin and lifted it up, so my eyes connected with his. He'd gotten much closer, and I could make out every detail of his face under the dim lighting. He'd matures so much since high school, all his features sharper and hardened. His gaze more knowing and powerful.
My breath shook a little at the sight.
"I know what you're feeling." He spoke.
"You do?" surprise caught my tone.
His expression softened, "We're only human, Rya. We feel things and sometimes those things make us feel guilty, angry, sad, or out of control. Emotions aren't a scary thing. Your emotions are valid and should be cared for."
"How am I supposed to care for them if I don't like them?" I asked. I never asked him for anything like this.
"You allow yourself to feel them. I think..." he took a minute as he mulled over his next words. "I think you expect too much from yourself and when you don't meet those expectation you feel as if you've failed everyone.
I wondered if this was a recent thought for him or something he'd been harbouring in his head for a while. Nobody had said anything like that to me before because I never gave anyone the chance.
Yet Christopher Knowles was sitting here, listening, and understanding my fragility. It was so terrifying, and a shiver ran through me.
The second he noticed, his hand wrapped around my ankles and outstretched my tucked legs across his lap, in course pulling me closer to him. He guided one of my hands around his neck and held me there.
My heart was pounding out of my chest. I'd had sex with the guy, but this was a different kind of intimate. I'd never let any man hold me before.
"You want to pull away again." He stated. "You don't know how to care for emotions, Rya, but I do."
My lips parted; he was so close I could feel his hot breath upon my skin. "So, what are you going to do?" I was scared because I didn't know his answer.
He read the fear in my face. "Nothing crazy." He whispered, his hand cupping my cheek, his thumb caressing. His other hand rubbed my ankle. "Just let me hold you for a minute."
"Okay..." I remembered a couple accounts where I didn't let him touch me because it clouded my judgement. It never let me think. This was one of those moments, I wasn't thinking, and his hands were on me. This time I didn't move them off.
I recalled something else. "When I was panicking outside," his eyes focused on mine, "You didn't touch me. Why was that?" he'd placed his hands near my cheeks but never placed his skin on mine.
"Sometimes, when someone has a panic attack, they hate people touching them. It's like they're being trapped, and every sense overwhelms them to a mass amount."
"Is that why you asked me those questions? To get my used to my senses and surroundings again?" it worked. I wanted to question where he'd learnt to do that.
"Partially, also to get you to focus on other things than your panic attack." The word 'panic attack' still nauseated me.
Then a realisation struck me. "How did you know about it?" the look on his face gave me the answer I already knew. "Are they frequent for you?"
"Not so much anymore."
A bigger wave of realisation hit me. He must've had them in high school. Obviously, I'd never seen any of them which meant I no idea. So, it wasn't like I could have prevented or helped them. My mind flashed through all our interactions and wondered if I caused any of them.
"Don't worry." He caught my worry, "My ego's a lot stronger than your mean words. They were never about you."
"Okay." I nodded still not feeling right about it. I tried to push it to the back of my head and zeroed in on him massaging my ankles, his hands moving up to the calves. It was a small but calming gesture that helped me relax. I didn't realise how tense I was until now.
Although it was quite funny, Knowles massaging my legs, it's the most civil we'd ever been. "What's so funny?" he squinted his eyes at me. I didn't realise I'd laughed out loud.
"We've not argued yet." I told him. His lips lifted. His hand once caressing my cheek moved to the back of my neck and his thumb rolled small circles over an incredibly tense spot.
I sighed. Jesus, he was good at that. "No... we haven't." he looked away for a moment. "I'd sort of be a dick for arguing with a girl who's just had a panic attack."
I still wasn't used to the word, but I tried to brush it to the back of my mind for now. "Is your ego going to implode if I thank you?"
His head turned back to me, his lips grinning. "Maybe."
A crash echoed outside the door and my whole body stilled. "Hey." He wrapped his arms tighter around me, pulling me further into his lap. "It's okay, someone probably dropped a few glasses behind the bar."
My body was still jumpy, I couldn't shut it off. It was as if left over adrenaline patiently waited for something to trigger its circuit.
"Sorry." I whispered, my eyes flitting down to my ankles.
Knowles lifted my chin up so my eyes met his again, "You're still a little shaken, it's normal."
His face was so much closer now. If I tilted a tiny bit forward, my forehead would touch his. The warmth of his body began to flow through me. Every breath became lodge in my throat. It wasn't in panic as every muscle in my body seemed to meld relaxed into his.
"I should probably thank you now." I whispered, my breath tickling his nose.
"You really don't have to if it makes you that uncomfortable." He tried to joke but his eyes said something different.
"Chris?"
"Yeah –" I pressed my lips to his and swallowed whatever words he was about to say. I felt his breath catch in his lungs and he took a slight second to respond to me.
Soon, his lips traced the same rhythm as mine and his hands held me tighter and his fingers dug into my thigh and my hair.
All the coldness of my body was melted by his warmth, all the tense and discomfort were cradled and soothed by his hands and mouth alone. His whole being fought with mine but not in anger or malice. It was different. Let me take care of you, it sang to me.
All the thoughts swirling round in my head made it easier for him to part my lips and slip his tongue into my mouth. It wasn't rough or demanding but soft and teasing. My hands trailed up his neck and grabbed onto his hair, a deep groan stirred out of him.
He pulled me up and guided one leg to the other side of his frame, straddling. I was positive I'd knocked over my glass of water on the table, but I didn't care, nor did he seem to notice.
Goosebumps rose in my skin as his hands caressed the bareness of my back. One of my own stopped pulling at his hair and trailed down his neck, tauntingly down his chest and settled low on his abdomen.
The feel of his hands on my bare skin sent tingles throughout every bone in my body, so many new sensations pummelling through my veins. It caused my heart to thrum harder and harder with each soft but needy touch. More. Please, more.
My hand slipped under his shirt and explored the skin underneath. He groaned again and slipped his hands to my hips, forcing me closer to him, his crotch right beneath me.
I gasped and rocked my hips against his, my hands sliding further up to his chest. "Keep touching me. angel." He begged against my mouth.
My lips left his and began to kiss across his cheek, lingering at his jaw and nuzzling into his neck. I sucked onto his skin.
Every part of me was desperate and growing more and more carnal. He gripped my hips harder, the swell of him grinding against me. My nails dug into his chest and dragged down his skin.
For a moment I was terrified of hurting him. Yet a moan escaped his lips, and his chest was rising and falling at a wild rate. He captured my lips once more, biting the bottom one and pulling. His eyes darkened watching it bounce back and soon he tongue slipped back into my mouth, tending, and caressing me.
I think I whispered his name. I think I whispered it multiple times. My brain short circuited before I could even start comprehend my own words.
When his hands began riding up my thighs, the breakroom door crashed open, and my body froze. We broke apart and stared at the sudden intruder.
"What the fuck?!" Taylor stood in the doorway. Thank God it wasn't Leah but there was no doubt Taylor would run straight to her once he realised what this situation was.
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❤︎ everyone take a deep breath because this was a long one! so many things happened i think we all need time to digest it, so tell me your thoughts!
❤︎ Theories? What will happen next?
❤︎ there are so many more amazing and exciting things to come for these two and i cannot wait for you all to read them! this is also your daily reminder to drink your water, i'm sending all my love xxx