Lost in You

kicking him out of here and hopping on my bus to get out of dodge.
    I know that starting something with him is wrong, but we can be friends. I can be his friend. That’s what I tell myself as I walk back toward him. I remind myself that we’ll be friends, pen pals or texting buddies. We’ll keep things platonic until he’s eighteen and if he wants, then maybe we’ll share a kiss or hold hands.
    Over and over again, I say this as I round the corner and look at him. He sees me and stands up. His short, dark hair is now standing on end, likely from endless pulling, no doubt wondering where the crazed rock star ran off. My fingers like his hair like this. They twitch with desire to run through his locks. I close my eyes to remove the image of my lips pressed against his while he’s pulling me close, his hand guiding my leg over his hip.
    My mind is saying get over him, but my heart is speaking loud and clear. I need to have him in my life. I want to know him.
    With my game face on I take the last few steps back to the chaise lounge. Ryan steps back, his legs bumping into the chair. He wobbles a bit and I reach out to catch him. Big mistake. My hands feel as if they are on fire. It’s small and manageable, yet I don’t want to let go for fear the sensation will stop. I know I have to. I’m an adult, I very sadly remind myself.
    Letting go of his arm, I sit down in my same spot as before. I look at him, my head tilted back as I take in his tall stature, his eyes never leaving mine as he sits back down. He’s tense, I can tell, his posture rigid and uncomfortable. I made him this way and now I need to fix it.
    “I’m sorry about before, about leaving. That was rude.”
    “It’s okay.” He says this so politely it makes me want to pull him into my arms and hug him.
    “No, it’s not.” I lean forward so that I can peer into his eyes. They’re a beautiful combination of blue and green. I can’t help but want to get lost in them for hours.
    I straighten when Ryan clears his throat. He looks down, clearly shy or surprised by my gawking. I need to control myself. I’m a professional and need to act like one. I sit back and extend my legs in the chaise, turning so I can look at him. I want to tell him to make himself at home, but he doesn’t seem like the type that would do that.
    “Who is this singing?” he asks, effectively breaking the awkward silence. I pick up my phone and show him my picture. The song is a ballad I did two years ago. It never went anywhere, but it’s always been one of my favorites.
    “It’s me.”
    “You’re very pretty.” He says this so quietly I almost didn’t hear him. His cheek turns a pleasing shade of pink. It’s a good thing I’m this far away from him because I want to run my fingers along his cheekbone. I want to feel the heat from his blush.
    There is something seriously wrong with me. I tell myself to snap the hell out of it and come back down to reality. Friends, Hadley… that is all you can be. There will be no touching of any kind.
    “Thank you.” I say this in hopes to open some conversation, anything to hear his voice.
    “You weren’t supposed to hear that,” he mumbles his reply. Ryan mirrors my position on his chaise, turning his body to look at me. I’m lost in his beauty. I hope he doesn’t mind me staring because I don’t think I can stop.
    “I think you’re handsome.” He looks away. He starts picking at the hem of his shorts and I fear I’ve said the wrong thing. Everything has come so natural to me until now. “Is that the wrong thing to say?”
    Ryan shrugs. “No one has ever said that.”
    “Girls don’t tell you that you’re hot?”
    “No, definitely not.”
    “That’s such a shame.”
    Ryan looks away from me and I don’t like it. I get up and move to his chaise. I sit toward the middle, where his knees are bent. With my legs under me, I lean toward him so that we’re touching. He doesn’t pull away or shift so we aren’t touching. But he’s still not looking at me.
    “I’m sorry for embarrassing you. I just call things like I see it.”
    Ryan shakes his head and stalls briefly before turning back to me. His eyes are focused and in control of my beating heart. How can one person make me feel this way after only knowing him for such a short time?
    “You have a very nice voice. I like listening to you.”
    “I’ll take that compliment any day, especially if it’s coming from you.” I expect Ryan to look away, but he