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But the date is a local rock band at a little venue in mid-town. Eighteen and up, so even though Ryker is clearly over twenty-one, they won’t sell him alcohol because we have different-colored wrist bands. When I realize that I feel a little embarrassed that he had to take me to a place like this. How long has it been since he’s had a night out with a woman that doesn’t involve drinks?
So I ask him if he wants me to go stand somewhere else so he can get a drink and he says, “I didn’t bring you here to drink, Aria. We can drink anywhere we want. I brought you to see the band.”
Which, I admit, kinda makes me like him a little more in that moment.
And if Ryker feels self-conscious about being one of the older dudes among all the twenty-somethings, he doesn’t show it. He holds my hand and leads me through the crowd. When people get rowdy near us, he stands in front of me and dares them to take another step forward. When the music comes on he finds us a spot near the front and wraps his arms around me like a protector.
There isn’t much talking but for some reason it works for us. I get the opportunity to relax, and people-watch, and listen to the music. I’ve never been to one of these shows before. There are a few kids in my school who are into this scene. All-ages clubs, and drinking, and pot. But honesty, St. Bernadette’s is a little microcosm of the city where none of the bad stuff exists. Maybe that’s stupid. Maybe keeping kids sheltered like this is just wishful thinking. But I like being safe and if I was here alone tonight I’d be terrified. Ryker takes away all the apprehension about trying new things and just lets me exist. There are no expectations other than that. It’s an opportunity to appreciate things for the first time in a safe way.
Kinda like the way he took my virginity.
And when I go back to high school in a week none of my friends will even believe the time I had over break. I feel like a whole different person. The sex, the college class, the apartment, the co-op… I feel like Aria Amherst got dropped off somewhere and this new, adult version of me took over.
Now I glance over at Ryker in the back of the limo. I’m stretched out on the back seat with my feet in his lap and he’s massaging them because I was dumb and wore heels. And while this was just some local band, they were pretty popular tonight and we had to stand the whole time.
But back to Ryker North.
Mmmmm. He looks delicious in his jeans and t-shirt. It’s an old, once-black-but-now-faded-to-gray concert shirt. That band that April always loved. Son of a Jack.
He’s looking intently at my feet as he rubs my toes and I’m watching the tattoos on his arms dance with his movements. Demons, all of them. Red and black with swirls of smoke and flames.
He glances over at me and says, “Did you have fun tonight?”
I nod my head slowly. “I did. Never been to a show before. And the only concerts I’ve gone to are the ones my parents took me to. And that was all classical music.”
He smiles and laughs.
“You probably think I’m so young, don’t you. So inexperienced and innocent.”
“Those aren’t bad things to be, Aria.”
“I know, but… you can’t even drink around me without people suspecting you of corruption. It didn’t bother you?”
He shakes his head and frowns. “No.” Then he looks over at me, his hair falling over his eyes. “I feel responsible for you,” he says. “Especially after meeting your father. Maybe that first night I went home thinking, you know. Not for me. But I’ve changed my mind, Aria. You are for me.”
I think about that for a few moments. “So that’s what this was? Our first date.”
“Yeah. This was a good first date. No awkward conversation, no expectations, no ulterior motives.”
“Whoa, hold on,” I say, putting a hand up to indicate full stop. “I hope you’re not planning on dropping me off and kissing me good night at the door.”
He smiles, still massaging my toes. “That was the plan.”
“Uh… no,” I say. “Just noooo.” And I pout a little. “I want to see your house. You’ve seen a whole bunch of me and I haven’t seen anything of you. It’s not fair.”
He considers this and says, “Fair enough. You want to see my apartment?”
“Yes.”
He leans forward enough to tab the controls for the blacked-out divider separating us from the driver and lowers it. “Change of venue, we’re going back to my place.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. North,” the driver says.
Then Ryker raises the divider and leans back again.
