Blurred Lies (The Blurred Series Book 1) (14 page)

What just happened?

When I finish my shift at 6:00pm, I still haven’t fully come to terms with the fact that I have a date tonight. I’ve never actually been on a real date, let alone one that I didn’t even realize I was agreeing to go on. Unless you count the visit to the park with Ryan.

That wasn’t a date
.

Well, it may not have been a date, but there were date-like things such as food, wine and...kissing. But there were also non-date like things such as
Tina
: the uber-bitch. Ending the non-date with a panic attack also wasn’t very date-like.

Hopefully tonight will go much smoother.
Please, let it go smoother
.

When I get into the apartment, I head straight for my bedroom, since I have less than an hour to get ready. As I approach the archway leading to the bedrooms, a voice startles me.

“I’m sorry I was a dick earlier.”

“
Jeez
, Ryan! You scared the crap out of me!” I turn to face him with my hand over my heart, thinking it might burst out of my chest at any moment.

He’s sitting on the couch, looking contrite.

“A little early for beer, don’t you think?” I say, motioning to the bottle in his hand that’s laying on the back of the couch.

“Not really,” he deadpans before taking a long sip.

Well, I guess it is six in the evening. Who am I to judge?

Crossing my arms, I lean against the archway, waiting for him to expand on his apology.

“So, you said you were sorry?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Why did you act that way?”

“Because I was jealous.”

“Jealous of what?”

“Jealous of the guy you were having a cozy little conversation with, who was obviously eye-fucking you the whole time, not eight hours after
I
left your bed.” His eyes never leave mine as he explains the reasoning, without emotion.

“You’re making me sound like a total slut, Ryan. Why are you being like this?”

“I don’t mean to. That’s not what I meant. I just mean...I was in your bed and I don’t want anyone else to be there.” He looks down now, fiddling with the label on his beer.

“No one else is getting in my bed, Ryan.”

“But they might...at some point. You’re going out on a date with him tonight, aren’t you?”

“How did you-”

“Unlucky guess.” He cuts me off before I can finish asking how he knows.

Why do I feel so bad? I feel like going out on this date is, somehow, a huge betrayal. When I was still involved with Land, I felt like I was betraying him with Ryan, now Land is out of the picture, I’m betraying Ryan with Elliott.

Maybe I am a total slut
.

Without all the slutty sex, anyway. I’m getting all the bad reputation with none of the benefits. How’s that fair?

“No one else is getting in my bed, Ryan. Not Elliott, not anyone,” I reiterate.

He takes another swig of beer and says, “Not yet.”

I shake my head in disbelief and, not knowing what else to say, turn and head to my room. I now only have forty-five minutes to make myself presentable for a date.

A date that will not end with someone in my bed...at least not Elliott, anyway.

* * *

Nate still wasn’t home by the time I left the apartment, and Ryan had gone elsewhere when I re-entered the living room before Elliott arrived to pick me up, so I texted Nate to tell him where I was going and to not wait up.

Elliott arrived on time and when I met him at the curb, he was waiting to open my door for me. He’s a true gentleman, which he proved throughout the entire date.

He took me to a lovely Italian restaurant, where I ate way too many carbs, and there wasn’t an awkward silence the whole time.

He made me feel so at ease that I told him about, almost, everything. I left out the part about me, sort of, being a recluse and how most of my friendships have been online. I avoided the subjects of Land and Ryan, entirely, and focused on family and writing.

Telling him about my parents wasn’t easy, and the look of pity in his eyes made me feel a little ill, but he knew exactly what I needed and changed the subject to happier topics as soon as it was appropriate, before the tears behind my eyes sprang free.

Embarrassment avoided
.

He wore the same black-rimmed glasses, but the rest of his attire was different. The snug-fitting button-down shirt told me he hits the gym on a semi-regular basis (not as often as Ryan) and the dark blue jeans made him look far less preppy than earlier in the day. He really is a good looking guy; I just don’t feel quite as...tingly around him as I do with...someone else. Maybe that’s a good thing; safer.

Safe is good.

I was in such a hurry to be ready by seven, and the evening went so well, that I didn’t even have time to become anxious.

Now, as we stand in the entryway of my apartment building, anxiety is starting to creep in. I don’t quite know how to handle the situation.

Although I’ve never been on a
real
date, I know there are several possible outcomes.

A kiss on the cheek. A kiss on the lips. Being invited in for
coffee
. The promise of doing this again, because the first time was so enjoyable.

A kiss on the cheek would be nice and friendly. I can totally get on-board with that outcome.

A kiss on the lips; although I would be fine with that on a fundamental attractiveness level, I can’t bring myself to be okay with it. Not with Ryan right upstairs, perhaps even waiting for me to come home.

Inviting in for
coffee
: so not happening, even if actually drinking the beverage is all that’s going to happen.

Doing this again? I could agree to that, but I don’t want to give Elliott false hope. I’m attracted to him, but I’m not emotionally ready for
anything
. I’m also not as attracted to him as someone else who will remain nameless.

So not analyzing that.

“I don’t want to lead you on, Elliott.”
Okay
, I didn’t think I was going to be
quite
that honest.

“I don’t want you to lead me on either. But I’m kind of willing to let you and take my chances,” he says with a smile. Why is he making this harder?

I smile at that, too. “I can’t have a relationship with you and I don’t want to let you think I can by kissing you, or having a second date with you, or-”

“Third,” he states flatly.

“What?”

“It would be our third date. First one was this afternoon; this was the second.” He smirks with that. I kind of like his smirks.

“The third date is not the charm, Elliott, no matter how many times they tell you it is in the movies.” Now I’m the one smirking.

“I understand... Sort of. But we get along really well, and I think it would be a shame to stop seeing each other. I won’t continue to pursue you, romantically, if you say you don’t want that, even though it pains me to say it. But I’d really like to be friends with you, Natalie.”

“Okay,” I say with a big, genuine mile. “I’d like that, too. Very much.”

“Awesome. Well, it may have been presumptuous of me, but I put my number in your phone when you went to the bathroom earlier. Text or call whenever you want to talk or hang out.”

“Okay, I will. Thanks for being so understanding,” I say with sincerity.

He kisses me on the cheek and says, “Goodnight,” before heading back to his car and waving goodbye to me through the window.

Safe
. Why can’t I like the safe option the most?

When I creep quietly into the apartment, I realize I don’t really have to when I see the oven clock reads only 10:23. I’m hardly going to be turning into a pumpkin at this tame hour. But I don’t see any lights on, so I continue discreetly to my bedroom in case Nate or Ryan wanted an early night.

As I get closer to the bedroom hallway, I hear something. Is that a woman crying?

I can barely discern the low tone of a male voice, but the woman is much clearer...and louder.

She’s not crying. She’s moaning.

Oh, no
.

I don’t know who it is or which room the noises are coming from. If it’s Ryan, I don’t know what I’ll do.

Jealousy isn’t a pleasant emotion and, in this moment, I realize I have plenty of it where Ryan is concerned.

What if it’s Tina? What if he decided to repay my date with Elliott with a
date
of his own?

Needing to know for certain, I continue to creep closer to the bedrooms.

I feel sick. Like I might lose all of the carbs I consumed earlier if I discover the noises are coming from
his
bedroom.

“Oh, God, Nathan.”

Sweet Jesus, thank you
! And ew! And since when does anyone call Nate ‘Nathan’?

I guess he wasn’t expecting me home quite this early. I really wish I wasn’t home this early!

Coming to my senses, I dash into my bedroom and close the door as gently as possible, not wanting Nate to know I’m here. The only thing that could make hearing my brother having sex worse is him knowing I heard him having sex.

It looks like I’ll be waiting a good long while to go and brush my teeth. I’m definitely putting my earphones in and listening to music while reading my book for the next hour or two.

* * *

An hour and forty minutes later, I pull out my earphones, listen for any noise and check the coast is clear before going to the bathroom. I do my usual routine, removing my makeup, moisturizing, brushing my teeth, and even remembering to floss.

When I’m done, I creep back to my room, relieved that I don’t hear a peep coming from Nate’s room, or anywhere else for that matter.

That’s one reason I jump out of my skin when I open my bedroom door and see someone sitting on my bed.

“What are you doing here, Ryan?” I ask cautiously.

“I j-just needed to see you,” he confesses slowly, with a somber tone.

“You mean you needed to check that my bed was empty.”

“Tha-at miiight be part oof it,” he slurs. “Don’t haate me. ‘Kay?”

“Are you drunk?”

“Maaaybe.” He sheepishly gives a half-grin that tugs at my heart a little. He looks...sad.

“Why did you drink so much?” I don’t think I really want to know the answer, but I can’t help asking the question, anyway.

“I hooped it’d would heelp me foorrrget you were on a date with a-another guyyy.”

I go and sit next to him now.

“Did it work?”

“No.” He looks at me and his eyes are bloodshot, making the green look that much brighter and reminding me of when he cried whilst chopping onions.

He really needs water and bed. Preferably his bed.

“I’m going to get you water. Stay here and don’t throw-up on my sheets.”

When I get back with the water, Ryan is still in my room, on my bed, but he’s no longer sitting. He’s managed to remove his shoes and shirt and is laying on top of the covers, topless, with his jeans still on but his belt and top button undone. I’m so not finishing the job for him.

“Fantastic,” I mumble to myself. “Ryan?” I say a little louder, but not really wanting to wake him.

Realizing he’s passed out, I set the water on the bedside table along with some pain killers for when he wakes up, and get a spare blanket to throw over him so he doesn’t get cold. He mumbles something incoherent, but doesn’t rouse. He’s spread out all over the place, so there’s no room for me in this bed. I guess I’ll just have to sleep in his room tonight.

Turning off my bedroom light and closing the door, I enter Ryan’s bedroom with some trepidation. Turning on the bedside lamp, I see it looks very much the same as when I was in here helping with the website design.

His bed isn’t made, which means his sheets aren’t freshly washed, which means they’ll smell like him. I don’t know why that makes me happy.

Pushing any thoughts of other women being in his bed to the back of my mind, I slowly get under his covers and sigh in relief when I smell nothing but Ryan. Turning off the lamp, I settle into his pillow and take a few deep, calming breaths.

It’s been a crazy day.

I’m burning. My skin is on fire and I can’t escape the flames licking at my body. I writhe around, trying to sink into the cool water beneath me, but I stay floating in the blaze.

Cool water suddenly caresses my stomach through my clothing, and then trickles down to my hip, touching the exposed skin between my shirt and shorts. A small, but refreshing splash meets my cheek, making me gasp. It’s such a relief from the heat of the inferno.

“You’re so hot,” he says as another cool droplet hits my shoulder.

I need more water.

“Please!” I beg to the source of my relief.

“Please, what?” He whispers in my ear.

“More.”

Suddenly, coolness meets every inch of my skin, relieving the burn that’s consuming me.

“You’re hot.”

I moan in agreement.

“Wake up.”

What?

“Wake up, Natty. You’re hot.”

I open my eyes, in a daze between dream and reality.

I feel a hand on my hip, then water on my shoulder.

But it’s not water; it’s a kiss
.

“I took the blanket off you. You’re all sweaty.” The voice murmurs quietly, with a hint of humor, in my ear.

He leans back a little, so I can see his face, and now the dream makes sense...sort of.

I obviously became too hot in my sleep, because Ryan was cuddled up to me, which I wasn’t anticipating when I wrapped up in the blanket last night.

When did Ryan get in the bed with me?

He looks a lot better than last night. His eyes are clear and he doesn’t look so sad any longer.

“What are you doing here?” I ask quietly as his hand continues to make the skin tingle at my hip.

“This is my bedroom,” he answers with a smile, stroking a stray piece of hair from my damp forehead. “What are
you
doing here?”

“You fell asleep in
my
bed.”

“You weren’t in
your
bed. I got lonely.”

Oh, okay.

“When did you come in here with me?”

“I woke up at about three with a mouth as dry as the Sahara, so I drank the glass of water and took the painkillers you left me - thank you for that by the way - then snuck in here and fell asleep with you.

“I’m sorry for last night. It wasn’t my finest hour.” He averts his gaze as he says the last.

After last night, I realize that my actions affect Ryan more than I had anticipated. I need to let him know that I’m not going to be involved with Elliott. Not romantically, anyway. I don’t want him feeling...unsettled for no reason.

“I’m sorry for going on a date with Elliott,” I say sheepishly. His response surprises me.

“Why? Did you not have a good time? Did he try something?” he asks with a hint of anger growing in his eyes.

“No, I had a lovely time. He was a gentleman. I’m just sorry that I upset you.”

Relief and regret wash over his features at the same time. “You have every right to date, Natalie. You’re young, you’re single, and you just moved to a new town and started a new life. You should get out and meet people. Even I told you to do that, or something along those lines, when we were at the park. It would be hypocritical of me to say you can’t see anyone else.” When he meets my gaze, I see how sincere he is.

Unable to think of an appropriate response to that, I blurt the first thing that comes into my head about my current situation.

“I’m really wet.”

“Is that so? I’ve barely touched you. You must be really sensitive, or the dream you were having was extremely inappropriate.” He laughs and it takes me a few moments to figure out what the hell he is going on about.

When I finally catch on to my faux pas, I’m sure my entire body must turn red with embarrassment. Grabbing the cover that Ryan had pulled off of me earlier, I pull it all the way up and over my head.

If I can’t see him, it didn’t really happen.

“Oh, my God! That is
so
not what I meant!” My voice is muffled by the cover over my face, but I can hear his responding chuckle just fine.

“Well that’s disappointing,” he says, tugging the blanket down to my shoulders.

When my eyes are no longer covered, I see he’s looking down at me with a bright smile and it makes me feel happy and humiliated at the same time.

“I’m so embarrassed,” I whisper.

“Don’t be,” he whispers back. “Though, you are really cute when you’re embarrassed, so if you want to keep it up, I’m okay with that.” The smile is gone now and his eyes wander to my mouth.

Is he going to kiss me?

“I told Elliott I couldn’t see him romantically. We’re just going to be friends,” I blurt in an attempt to both lighten my conscience and change the subject...and also distract Ryan from my mouth.

It works. His eyes snap to mine and he looks incredibly serious.

“Why?” he asks with curiosity.

I shrug, almost imperceptibly.

“I just think it would be better if we remained in the friend-zone, that’s all.”

He looks as though he doesn’t really believe that half-truth, but he doesn’t push for more information. Instead, he pushes for something far more dangerous.

“And what about me? Am I remaining in the friend-zone?”

God, how do I even answer that? I need to answer in the affirmative, but I don’t want to. I want to answer in the negative, but I don’t feel like I can do that either.

When the guy you’ve had a crush on for a decade asks if he’s going to be friend-zoned, you’d think the correct answer would be “no”, but that’s not what I say.

“I think that would be the most sensible option, for now,” I answer and immediately regret the words, but make no attempt to take them back.

He looks like someone just killed his puppy.

“For now? I think I can live with that. It sounds...temporary. Is it temporary?” He sounds hopeful.

I have no idea how to answer.

“I don’t know, Ryan. I’m sorry.” I roll away from him and assume the fetal position. I feel like a coward. I’m acting like a coward.

Well, if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck…

“Hey,” he puts an arm around my waist, pulling me to his chest, speaking softly in my ear. “You don’t have to apologize to me. I know your life has been turned upside down and you’re probably completely overwhelmed. I don’t want to add to that. I just want to be here for you, in whatever capacity you need.”

“I really need pancakes and coffee.”

“Then I’ll make you pancakes and coffee.”

He’s so not friend-zoned.

* * *

The next couple of weeks go by in a blur. Calli gives me so many shifts at the café, I think my feet might fall off. Not that I’m not grateful for the work. It’s both distracting for my brain and lucrative for my bank balance.

I couldn’t look Nate in the eye for an entire week due to the ‘sex noise’ incident, but when he confronted me about my evasiveness and I confessed to what I’d heard, he was mortified and promised it would never happen again. I, of course, told him he shouldn’t have to go elsewhere to enjoy having...company. That would be unfair, since this is his home. So we agreed that we would check-in with each other a little more to prevent future...surprises.

He hasn’t checked-in with me at all this week. I guess that means he hasn’t had company. At least not in the apartment.
Ew
.

Elliott stops by the café a couple of times to have coffee with me on my break and work on his novel. He thinks he’s getting close to being done with his first draft and promises me I can be the first to read it. I’m really excited about that and about the fact that talking writing with him is encouraging me to seriously consider starting my own story.

Maybe one day I’ll do more than consider it.

Ryan seems to become extremely busy with his own work, and between that and the gym, I barely see him. He does, however, make me breakfast a couple more times, keeping it strictly in the ‘friend-zone’, per my wishes, and tonight Ryan, Nate and I are finally able to sit down for a dinner together.

“So, how’s the job at the café going, Little N?” Nate asks before he stuffs a slice of pepperoni pizza in his mouth.

Finishing my current mouthful of cheesy goodness, I reply “It’s good. Tiring, but good.”

“Well, Calli can’t speak highly of you enough. She thinks you’re great. Someone might be getting a raise real soon. I’m proud of you.”

Being a waitress at a café isn’t exactly an amazing accomplishment, but I know why he’s proud. I got a job on my own - well, sort of - and I’ve stuck with it and not had a single anxiety attack over it. It’s a vast improvement from my teenage years, when school would cause me to have a full-on episode at least once a week. Nate’s only had to talk me off the proverbial ledge once since I moved in, so that’s progress that
I’m
proud of.

“Thanks,” I say with a grateful smile. “You really think I’m going to get a raise? Already? Wait, how do you know?”

“A little bird might have told me,” he responds, immediately chomping on a spicy chicken wing.

“Was that before or after the
little bird
told you to f-”

“Ryan!” Nate warns before Ryan can finish his sentence.

“What? Before she told you what?” I don’t get it. What am I missing? Who’s the little bird?

“Nothing, Nat. Ryan’s just being...Ryan,” he states pointedly.

“Whatever.” I really can’t be bothered to fish for information. I’m exhausted and just want to shove pizza in my face then go to bed.

At that moment, Nate drips pizza sauce down his white T-shirt with a muttered “shit” and excuses himself to go change, leaving me alone with Ryan.

“So, we’ve both been working a lot lately. Haven’t really had a chance to hang out. How’s Elliott?” Ryan asks while staring at the TV.

“Do you really care?”

“Not really.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“Because I want to talk to you. I’m making small-talk.”

Yeah, right
. What he means is he hasn’t talked to me much since that morning in his bed, and he wants to make sure Elliott is still ‘friend-zoned’.

“Well, he’s good. Almost done with the first draft of his novel, which I get to read when it’s done, and we’re still just friends.”

I see the flicker of relief in his eyes as he turns from the TV to look at me.

“Cool,” he says with a knowing smile. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I think you know.”

Yeah, I do.

“You’re welcome,” I say coyly, turning my attention to the TV. I don’t even know what we’re watching. I’m too aware of Ryan sitting on the other end of the couch.

“I was wondering…I mean, seeing as Elliott got to take you out on a date, maybe I could take you out tomorrow night?”

My eyes snap back to Ryan’s. I don’t really know what to say to that. My initial gut reaction to his words was ‘yes’, but as my brain catches up to what’s happening, I can’t figure out what the best response would be. Maybe I should just go with my instincts.

“Just as friends?” I ask tentatively.

“If that’s what you want.”

It’s not.
“It is.”

“Then it will be a friend-date. So is that a yes?”

“Okay.”
Not okay
.

After I finish my share of the pizza and say goodnight to Nate and Ryan, I go to bed and stare at the ceiling, wondering what my
friend-date
with Ryan will bring.

What will we do? Where will we go? Will Ryan look so irresistibly sexy that I beg him to kiss me with longing looks all night? Probably.

This is such a bad idea.