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Chapter Thirteen
Savannah
Was watching Ryan on a streamed reality show, while sitting next to him, awkward?
You bet.
But after spending these last days with him, I could see the hesitation in him on screen. I could hear the apprehension.
All things that I don’t think I would have caught had I stayed in California and forced myself to watch with his parents, or Mitch and the rest of the crew. I would have been so caught up in my own feelings and failures, that I wouldn’t have seen the nervous lick of his lips when the screen went to an interview section, and, when he stayed silent, the off-camera person asking, “Who was your phone call about?”
I wouldn’t have realized that the small shake of his head was about protecting me, rather than protecting himself.
The editing team clearly left that bit in to keep ratings up and people curious, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was brought up tonight on the finale.
The ending scene was of Bella standing on a balcony, overlooking the beach, as her red hair flowed behind her back. She dropped her head and looked down at a rose in her hand—the one she was supposed to give to Ryan, but he’d stopped her before she could—and she let go, letting the flower flutter to the ground below her as the camera faded to black.
“Well, that’s a dramatic way to lead into the finale,” I said, not bothering to move from my comfortable position at Ryan’s side.
“They’re going to want to talk about you,” Ryan groaned quietly, clearly resigned.
I shrugged my shoulder, moving my eyes from where Ryan dropped his hand and phone, toward the window showcasing the winter, um, spring time, wonderland.
“You can.”
I felt his chest move as he started to shake his head. I pushed back from him and crossed my legs, facing him. “Why not? I don’t care.”
“If there’s one thing I learned through all of this, it’s I value my privacy. Having your relationship blasted across televisions and all over the internet is not for me.” He pushed to sit up against the headboard further. “I never could have fathomed I’d make it this far on the show. On the one hand, it was so stupid. I should have stayed and figured things out with you. But on the other hand...”
He lifted my hand from my lap.
“Had I left the show much earlier than I did, I would have gone back to California. And life probably would have resumed as normal. I kind of like that our timelines ended up here, stranded in the Colorado wilderness, in a cabin we used to be the best of friends at.”
I couldn’t help the smile from blooming across my face. “I think someone’s been reading romance novels. That was pretty sweet.”
He chuckled and tugged on my arm. “I try, I try. Now come here. I have a little bit of time before I have to clean up, and I’d like to get back to what we were doing...”
I let him tug me enough that I leaned closer to him, but didn’t actually move my entire body. “Uhm, no. You could probably use a haircut before going on national television again. And a shower. Oh, and a shave. You could probably use a shave.”
With his free hand, he rubbed his new, short beard. “What? You don’t like this?”
“Well, I mean...” I did like it. I liked how it felt when he dropped a kiss to that spot between my shoulder and neck, and the short bristles tickled just enough. I liked how the shades-darker whiskers complimented his lighter hair, and how together, they made his gray eyes more intense.
“You should just be cleaned up some,” I finally finished, unfolding myself from the bed and taking my hand back. “C’mon. I’ll cut you.”
His laugh was full and loud. “If I didn’t know you, that would be a scary line, Savannah.” He came off the bed on the same side I had, and followed me into the bathroom. “Have you cut someone’s hair since you last did mine?”
It had been the summer before his senior year. We were bored and I’d told him that his hair in his eyes was driving me crazy.
And because we had no where to be but the cabin in a few weeks’ time, he surprisingly let me.
I didn’t do a terrible job either, if I remembered correctly. There were probably pictures of those days somewhere.
“No, but it wasn’t a hack job or anything, right?”
“Nah, you’re right. It wasn’t terrible.” He winked at me through the mirror reflection, as he stood behind me.
I took a moment to take the image in. We were a far cry from the kids who met one summer day nearly twenty years ago. No longer was he lean and growing into his body. He was big, strong, and much taller than me.
