Disobeying Him Page 9

  A yell came from Allie’s room. Finally. How much longer until she knocks on my door and kicks Hannah out of my room?

  “Close already?”

  Hannah let out a low groan, grinning at me with two thumbs up. She probably thought this was some sort of romantic comedy situation. It was not.

  It was punishing. For both of us. The longer Hannah and I kept up the act, the quieter Allie’s room became. Sweat dripped from my forehead as I moved my bed and grunted, waiting for Allie to come and stop us. To come and yell at me. To show she cared.

  She never came.

  Neither did Hannah or me.

  After ten minutes, I gave up and Hannah left with a sad, pitiful expression.

  Allie did not care about me. So what? I did not want—need her to. I needed her to stay away from me.

  After this, she just might.

  It was around nine o’clock the next night when a knock sounded at my door. A part of me wanted it to be Allie in her purple silk nightgown. Allie, the girl who wanted to fix me. The girl who did not care about me. The girl I had attempted to hurt but did not faze. I had not seen her since calling her a lonely stalker.

  I opened the door, and it revealed a nervous-looking Ryan.

  “What’s up, man?” I asked, worried something was wrong. He never came to my room.

  He shrugged and walked inside. He got right down to business. “What do you think of Allie?”

  I had to organize my thoughts to not say something I would regret. “She’s—” Crazy. Funny. Impulsive. Beautiful. Childish. Too hot for her own good. “—fine, I guess. What do you mean? Why?”

  “I think I like her.”

  My body froze. “You’re an RA.” My voice was hard, and I turned to stone as he paced back and forth. My heart rate increased as I imagined the two of them together. So I could be jealous and she couldn’t? It was so messed up. I needed to get her out of my head.

  “I know. I know, and that’s why I came to you. I mean, dating her… I don’t think that would be breaking the rules, you know?”

  “You’re an RA; she’s a resident. That breaks the rules,” I reminded him.

  “Yeah, but I’m not her RA. She’s not a resident of my floor; she is just a resident of my dorm.”

  I absorbed his words, trying to find a flaw. He was right. The rule was strict when the RA had to report on or supervise the person he or she was romantically interested in. Ryan was not employed to watch over Allie. I was.

  “I mean, do you think it’d be okay? I don’t want to lose my job here. It pays for, well, almost everything.”

  I remained quiet as my thoughts tangled and crashed into each other in my mind.

  “Nate?”

  “It’s dangerous. You shouldn’t. I mean, she’s…she’s so different.” She was wild and fearless and impulsive. She said what she thought always, with no reservations or hesitations. She did things without thinking. She hurt people without being hurt. “You’re opposites. You need to think about this, there’s no way it would work—”

  “Are you sure you’re talking to me right now?”

  “Of course, I’m talking to you.” Was he implying I was talking to myself? I would never go after Allie. My feelings of jealousy aside, she rubbed me the wrong way. She saw me as broken and a project for her to fix. Even without those problems, we were fire and ice. We did not mix. Apart from our evident attraction, which could be fought, we had nothing in common. Well, not a lot in common. And it would be against the rules. “Allie…is dangerous. If you’re asking about the rules, I don’t think they would fire you. But, if you’re asking me, don’t. Or at least wait until you know she’d be worth it.”

  “I think she is.”

  I did not sleep well that night either.

  Chapter 12

  Allie:

  * * *

  “You’re asking me out?” I asked, shocked.

  After eating lunch with Ryan, he had walked me back to my dorm room and asked, “Will you go out with me?” in the hallway before I could go inside. Ryan did not seem like the dating kind, but I did not either. I had not been on a date in over a year, not after Logan.

  “You barely know me,” I told Ryan.

  “Well, you see, the point of dating would be to get to know each other.” My stomach wrung into twisting knots from the nervousness on his face.

  I grew quiet as I contemplated; my mind shot back to my fight with Nate. Nate’s words rang in my ear. “Are you focusing on me so you don’t have to focus on yourself and your own problems?” He had added, “Maybe you should look for a boyfriend for yourself.”

  Ryan asking me out served as the perfect distraction. I could stop thinking about my guilt and hurt feelings over Nate, and work on myself. In truth, dating was a huge part of my healing and growth process. I had put it off long enough, swearing to myself one day in the faraway future I would be vulnerable and form a genuine bond.

  I needed to go out and get Logan out of my head. I wanted to move on and find someone.

  My eyes raked down Ryan, seeing him again for the first time. He was attractive. Light brown hair and cheery hazel eyes. He also made me laugh, and I did not want to lose our friendship so close to it starting.

  “Are you sure?”

  Ryan huffed out a chuckle. “Am I sure? Of course, I’m sure, Allie. You’re awesome. Hot, funny, a bit crazy—”

  “Crazy?” I raised my eyebrows at him.

  He bit his lip, smiling. “Sometimes you stare off into space while you’re thinking or talk to yourself out loud by accident.”

  “I do?” I tried to mask my horror. What things had I said?

  “Yeah, but don’t worry, it’s cute. I like it. I like you.” Something in my chest warmed at his statement. He must have seen that he said the right thing because he continued, “Would you want to go bowling Saturday night?” Bowling? I had not been bowling since my third-grade archenemy invited me to her eighth birthday party. She had put mustard in my seat, long story.

  “Yes,” I replied with a smile. I was going on a date. Logan be damned. A stray, rabid thought of Nate popped into my head and how he’d had loud sex next door in his room just to prove a point.

  “Best I’ve ever had,” he had groaned through my wall.

  My only thought had been, “But you haven’t had me.”

  I cracked my knuckles and reminded myself that Nate was off-limits and now of no interest to me. I had a below-average amount of pride, but being called a lonely stalker and hearing a man have revenge sex through my wall was enough to convince me to call it quits.

  Nate did not want my help. That was fine. I had crossed a line, and I knew that.

  We were not friends. That was fine too.

  It was not as if I had talked to him every day, and now my hours were empty without him. I was a busy bee.

  I was going on a date.

  “Great.” Ryan became his normal, overconfident self again after receiving my positive response and leaned in to kiss my forehead. When he pulled back, I turned to open my door and saw Nate standing in front of his room a couple of feet away from us.

  It was the first time I had seen him since the revenge sex. His blazing eyes locked onto us and narrowed. Was Nate’s glare at Ryan caused by jealousy? Not that it would matter. No more Nate for me. And knowing him, he glared at me because that was just his way of looking at me. “No PDA in the hallway,” he said, but all I could hear was his voice as he told the girl, “That’s it, baby. You feel so good.”

  Rage fueled my lungs as oxygen took a vacation. “Hmm, you’re right,” I responded and pushed Ryan inside my bedroom. “Thanks for the idea, Nate.”

  His flaring nostrils were reward enough.

  “What if I don’t have what it takes?” I stressed to Gavin as we ate dinner together. I had gotten another D on a psychology quiz. Gavin did not know it, but I had also scrapped my paper on Nate after every analysis I wrote started with the words “asshole” and “jerk face McGee.” Psychology was m
y major, and I was messing it up.

  “You do, Allie. Everyone gets low grades in the first semester of college. Think of it as a warning. As long as you do well on your other assignments, you’ll be fine.” He changed the subject to calm me down, but he chose the wrong subject. “So, Ryan and bowling Saturday night, huh?”

  “He already told you?” Surprised jabbed me. I thought the date would be informal. Ryan telling Gavin sounded a lot more serious. Ryan had taken my pushing him into my bedroom as a teasing joke, so I was hoping something casual was expected.

  It had been a long time since I spent time on a “date” with a man that involved “feelings.”

  “I woke up to a text saying, ‘I’m going to impress her with my fourteen-pound ball. Good luck next time.’ It took me a minute to realize what that meant,” Gavin said.

  “He sure is cocky.”

  “And apparently, bally.” Gavin winked at me.

  I threw a potato chip at him then grew serious. “I’m kind of worried about this date.”

  “You should be. This one college date is your one shot at finding your soul mate. If you mess it up, you’ll never recover.”

  Gavin put me at ease. “I love you,” I said.

  “Obviously.”

  I was studying in my room the night before my date with Ryan when my phone rang, flashing “incoming call from Birth Giver.” Aka mom. No. No. No. Worst possible time. But inconveniencing and vexing me were talents of hers.

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “Your father misses you.” Her but I don’t sounded loud and clear from her tone. “It’s been a year. You didn’t have time to come see him before you moved into school?”

  Considering I promised never to step foot in my hometown again after high school graduation… No. “I flew from France to Beckett, mom.” After what had happened my senior year, being on the same continent as Meadowville was too much for me. During my twelve months abroad, I had not called or interacted with my family in any way, which was a major part of the tranquility and serenity I had experienced.

  “Your father doesn’t understand why you needed to go to a school so far away from home,” she added.

  How many eye rolls does it take to get to the center of a conversation with my mother? The world may never know. “I’m only a plane ride and a taxi cab away.”

  “You might as well still be in France.”

  I wish I was still in France. Talking to my parents reminded me of why I had left the country in the first place—Don’t think about it. “It’s not my fault you won’t travel to see me.”

  “This was never the plan. You were supposed to go to school with Logan.”

  That name. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about him.

  “Your father wants to know how your first couple of weeks were.”

  “You’re not curious too?” I teased, but she stayed as cold as ever and did not respond. “They were fine.” There was no way I would tell her about my first two failing grades from my major class.

  “All right, I’ll tell him. Also, I have something to talk to you about.” Good because I had no more ideas for topics of conversation to have with you. “It’s about Logan.”

  Now I was the one to become as cold as ice. “Mom.” The tone of my voice should have silenced her. My warning should have been clear.

  “He wants to see you.”

  “No,” escaped my breathless lips as all the air was sucked out of my lungs. My body, my limbs, and my brain started to shut down.

  “Honestly, Allie, how long are you going to give him the silent treatment?”

  It had been a full year since I had seen or talked to him. That was not the “silent treatment.” That was cutting someone out of my life.

  “Honey? He says he is sorry and grudges aren’t healthy. He was just a kid.”

  A kid? It was only a little over a year ago. “I don’t care.” I did not know what to say. It was hard to find words. It was even hard to breathe. God, I hated panic attacks. Why did talking to my mother almost always cause one?

  “His mother told me he still loves you. He has been dating, of course, but she said he still has not gotten over you breaking up with him.”

  I hope he dies. I flinched at my own harsh thought and was glad I had not said it out loud by accident.

  “And Allie, I know you still love him too—”

  “I. Do. Not.” The power in my voice was unmistakable. My anxiety faded as rage took over.

  “Allie, if you just saw him again, I think you two would—”

  “No.”

  “He wants to apologize and you will let him.” My mother’s voice became as hard as mine. “Don’t be ungrateful. Your father has done business with his father for years now. You will do this for your family.”

  “How dare you?”

  I hung up on her and turned off my phone.

  Then I cried.

  After crying for close to an hour, I pulled myself together. No more thinking about Logan. “I am ice,” I repeated my mantra. “Hard, cold, and unbreakable.”

  What Logan did to me was unforgivable, and the fact that my mother still wanted me with him made me ill. If my parents pushed for me to see him, after everything—after me seeing a therapist and after me leaving the country to go abroad for a year—they did not love me. How could they love me if they would willingly cause me so much pain? They were the ones to push Logan and me together in the first place. They were the reason I had been trapped in the terrible relationship for so long.

  I wiped away my tears and changed into my pajamas, consisting of sweatpants and a loose V cut shirt. My cheeks were still red and my eyes were puffy, but I had to go to the bathroom. Hoping to not run into anyone, I ran. I sprinted right into Nate because my day was meant to be all bad luck and bad karma wrapped into twenty-four hours.

  “Allie?” Nate’s voice was softer than normal, like he knew I had been crying. I was an ugly crier, and my face would stay cherry red for at least an hour afterward.

  I made a noise instead of asking “what” because I was afraid of my voice cracking.

  “Are you… Is everything okay?” he asked. His attentive eyes widened when I gave a pathetic laugh.

  “What does okay even mean?”

  “It comes from the words ‘all correct.’” Of course, he would know something like that. He loved the origin of words. The dictionary was probably his favorite book, the weirdo. Sexy weirdo.

  “In that case, I am whatever means all wrong.” I tried to pass him to slip into my room.

  “Do you want to talk about it? I’m here.”

  I choked on a harsh breath. “You’re here for a lonely stalker who means less than nothing to you?” I threw his words back at him.

  He clenched his jaw. “As your RA, I need to be available in emotional situations. It’s my job.”

  “Don’t you hate me?” I asked.

  Two long seconds passed before he answered, “I don’t hate you.”

  “But you’re annoyed by me.”

  He stood there, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips slanted down. He opened his mouth and closed it. His strained face reminded me of the zipper of my skinny jeans after a trip to a buffet.

  “Nate, just say it. Jesus, you look constipated holding in whatever thought you’re trying not to say.”

  My words made him angry. With a frustrated sigh, he said, “I’m…not annoyed by you.”

  “That wasn’t all you were going to say.” I crossed my arms and raised my chin. “Just say it.” If he said something hurtful, it would bounce off of me. After all, sticks and stones might break bones, but words from Nate Reddington might keep me up at night for a year, replaying the critique until I cried myself to sleep as I planned to tonight.

  “I shouldn’t say it.”

  “Now you have to say it.”

  He scoffed. “I don’t have to.”

  I rolled my eyes. “If you don’t say it, you’ll forever be known as one of those people who say ‘I
have a secret’ and then never share it.”

  “If you share a secret, it’s not a secret.”

  “Say it or I’ll kiss you right on the mouth,” I threatened.

  His gaze dipped to my lips, and he swallowed. “I…I’m not annoyed by you.”

  “You said that already.” My face hovered in front of his, proving my threat. The smell of crisp apples and toothpaste tickled my nostrils as my lips parted.

  “I’m annoyed by how you make me feel.”

  “And how do I make you feel?”

  He hesitated again. “Why were you crying?”

  Right. I had almost forgotten in his presence. How cliché.

  “I’ll be fine,” I reassured him, but he looked doubtful. Still, he did not un-tense himself or offer comfort. “I’m just tired.”

  I opened my door and was about to walk in the privacy of my own room when he moved closer behind me.

  “Is it Ryan?” he inquired on a light growl.

  “Why, are you jealous?”

  “Are you jealous?” he asked.

  “What?” Who did I have to be jealous about? The girl he had fucked next door to hurt me? Why would I be jealous of her? Because she had him? In the words and valley girl accent of the beautiful Cher—the one from Clueless, not the singer—as if.

  Nate let out a heavy sigh and looked at the tiled floor. “Never mind.”

  “It has nothing to do with Ryan.” My answer seemed to satisfy him because he nodded and moved back away from me.

  “Just…” He appeared in pain to say, “Tell me if you need anything.”

  “Thank you.”

  There was a part of me—after everything—that wanted to tell him all of it. I wanted to tell someone, who appeared just as damaged as I was, what had happened to me. I wanted Nate to hold me and stroke my hair, whispering, “it’ll all be okay.” I wanted both of us to heal back into normal people with easy lives, who could interact without hurting one another. I wanted Nate to want me enough to break his rules for me.

  But that would never happen.