Ice Cold

20

Wren Ridley

I was laying on my stomach, one arm underneath my
pillow and still half asleep when Landon shook me awake. I only cracked my eyes open slightly and saw his glaring face as he lay on his side against the wall. The two of us barely fit in my bed, but that didn't seem to matter until now.

"Get up," Landon said, shaking me again.

"You can't even let me sleep in after I took care of you last night?" I asked, glancing at him through sleepy eyes.

His glare stayed settled on me like he was trying to move me with his mind.

I wanted to kiss him, and the thought made me feel queasy. But now the thought was there and it wouldn't leave, not after almost kissing him last night, not while I was looking at him with his hair a mess and eyes narrowed that were still a little swollen from sleep.

I let my head rest on my hand, my elbow braced against the pillow holding my head up, and I grinned at him.

"Get that stupid fucking smile off your stupid face and move," Landon snapped.

"You wanted to kiss my stupid face last night," I reminded him, which I knew would only make him angry, but I couldn't stop myself.

His glare hardened, but instead of responding, or punching me in my stupid face, Landon climbed over me to get off the bed. He threw one leg over my waist, and we made the briefest eye contact before he moved the other one over and hopped off the bed.

"Lance, I don't get why you're angry," I said, sitting up as he gathered his phone and keys I had laid out on my desk for him.

He whipped his head back at me with a frown, then let out a humorless laugh.

"You don't get why I'm angry?" he asked rhetorically. "I'm fucking angry because of you!"

I raised my eyebrows. "Me? I don't recall doing anything between last night and this morning to make you angry at me."

"You almost kissed me!"

"With your permission."

"It doesn't matter!" he shouted, throwing his hands in the air. "You got into my head, made me want things I shouldn't want, that I can't want!"

"And how exactly did I do that?"

I stood up from the bed and he stepped away from me.

"You just do," he said. "And it ruins me."

"I thought you were getting better," I started. "You know, with all the religious trauma."

"Shut the fuck up. You don't know anything about it. You don't understand."

"You're right. I really don't," I told him. "But if you need to blame me to make yourself feel better, that's fine."

He didn't respond to that, just stared at me.

"However, I think we both know that it's not really me that has you feeling like this," I said. His eyes left my face for a brief second.

I walked over to my dresser and picked up the clothes Landon had left the last time he was here and handed them over. He ripped them out of my grasp and made his way to the door.

"And Lance," I said, causing him to pause just before he opened it. "Next time you want to kiss me, you have to make the first move."

Landon didn't look back. He opened the door and let it slam behind him as he left the room.

James walked in a few moments later, looking like he had been asleep for the past year.

"What did you do to Landon?" he asked, yawning and scratching the back of his head. "I saw him when I was coming out of Stella's and he looked absolutely pissed."