My eyes narrow. “How long are you going to hold that over my head?”
“Forever.”
I sigh heavily, realizing this is not going to end like I want it to. “Lo may yell at you. He may call you rude names until you leave.”
Ryke lets out another short laugh. “Yeah, I think I can handle him.” He tilts his head. “Do you think he can handle me?”
“You do realize that sounds sexual,” I blurt, my eyes widening in regret. Why did I just say that?!
“And maybe you have a perverted mind.”
I can’t argue with that, but I have officially roasted into a new shade of red. To ignore my embarrassment, I go back to the issue at hand. “You’re not allowed to mention alcohol. If you do, you’re gone.”
He nods. “Fair enough.”
Maybe Lo will find a way to deter Ryke. If anyone can skillfully kick someone out of our apartment, it’s him.
I scroll through the calendar in my phone. “What day were you thinking?”
He stands and stuffs my biology book into his backpack. “Right now.”
I gape. “I’m studying, Ryke.”
“Really. That’s what you were doing?” He rubs his jaw. “I could have sworn you were people-watching and eating the end of your pencil.”
I glare. “You’ve been spying on me?”
He slings his backpack over his shoulder. “I was observing you. Don’t get so pissy about it. I just needed to make sure you were in a good enough mood to hear my request.” He nods to the exit. “Shall we?”
I stand up in a huff, gathering my notebooks and shoving them into my backpack. “I don’t understand why we have to do this right now.”
He scoots his chair into the table. “Because, Lily Calloway, you seem like the type of girl who will never return my calls.” He motions for me to follow with his fingers, as though I’m a pet dog. “Let’s go.”
I inhale a strained breath, silently throwing darts into Ryke Meadows’ face. His self-confident swagger rubs me wrong. In fact, I’d rather not be rubbed by him at all. At least Lo will know what to do with him. That, I hold onto.
*
We agree to meet in the lobby of the Drake since we drove in two separate cars. When I walk in, I’m not surprised to see him waiting by the golden elevators. My bio book rests under his arm, and for the first time I allow myself a good look at Ryke. Without his Green Arrow costume, he appears slightly older, especially with a stubbly jaw and tanned skin. Underneath his white track shirt, I’m sure lies very toned and very lean muscles. He has a face that could force girls to their knees, but so does Lo.
I can’t imagine the two of them squaring off. Ice v. Stone. Sharpness v. Hardness. Cold v. Hot. They’re different, yet somehow, they’re still alike.
Ryke presses the button when he sees me approach. “You look like you’re going to vomit.”
“I’m not,” I mumble a stupid reply, thankful that the elevator doors burst open and slice the awkwardness. I slide in and hit the top floor. When they close, Ryke spins around and faces me, positioning himself in front of the doors, as though hoping I won’t bolt the second they break apart.
“I lied,” he starts.
My jaw unhinges. “Wha…” This was a bad idea.
“I’m not actually going to Comic-Con—”
“I knew it!” I should have listened to my gut. “Get out.”
He tilts his head with a frown at my asinine order. “We’re on a fucking elevator. In fact…” He presses the emergency stop, and it rumbles to a halt. Oh my God. He’s going to murder me! I spring to the buttons to restart the elevator, but he shields my passage by extending his arms and then lightly pushing me back.
“Let me out!”
“I need you to listen to me,” Ryke starts. “I am a journalism major. I do write for The Philadelphia Chronicle. But I have no intention of going to Comic-Con.”
“Then why—”
“Because I want to help your boyfriend, and I needed you to get me at least this far so I could explain the rest.”
My defensive barriers start rising tenfold. “We don’t need your help! I can take care of him.” I point to my chest. “I’ve taken care of him my whole life.”
“Yeah?” Ryke’s eyes narrow heatedly. “How many times have you watched him pass out? Tossing a few aspirins isn’t helping him, Lily. He has a fucking problem.”
My cheeks burn, and I take in his words very carefully. It hurts to see Lo drink so excessively. It hurts to watch him depend on one drink after the next, and I constantly fear the day where it becomes too much. But I always bury those worries with carnal pleasures and a natural high. My voice softens. “Why do you want to fix him so badly?”