Lovesick -- A Rocky Lynch Story

Chapter 8

It was only Thursday -- not even one full day since Ryland came -- and I was regretting the decision to let him stay. Don't get me wrong, I loved having him around. The kids absolutely adored him and he seemed to be the life of the party. There were just a couple of things about his lifestyle that drove me absolutely insane.

The first of those would be his spontaneity. He was never in one place for too long. He was here one minute and gone the next, never leaving a note or letting anyone know when he'd be back -- if he'd be back. Was it that I envied his ability to drop everything in a flash? He had nothing holding him back. I didn't want that to be the reason it upset me, so I explained the feelings away with others. I told Rocky it was because I never knew if I should set a place for him at the table, or if his flightiness would eventually let our children down.

The most frustrating aspect of his lifestyle that he seemed to have brought with him to our house was his messiness. Like I said, it hadn't even been a full day since he had decided to stay. Yet it seemed like he had been here for weeks. His clothes were all over the house. They were draped over chairs, hanging from the banister, piled on the floor outside the bathroom. He must have ordered a pizza late last night because there was a box with only crusts left on the counter, next to a couple of empty bottles of pop. Dishes were piled in the left side of the sink.

"Uncle Ry is so messy," I cooed calmly to Mason as I sat him in his bouncy chair in front of the television. His big brown eyes looked innocently up at me and giggled in response. Once he was occupied, I started to pick up.

The more I cleaned, the more frustrated I got. "Where did he even go?" I muttered to myself. "Who leaves someone else's house like this?" I carried an armful of clothes to the guest room and dumped them on top of the unmade bed. With my foot, I shoved the other pile by the bathroom into the room and shut the door a bit harder than I intended. The framed pictures on the wall shook from the force. Then I started to clean up the kitchen. I tossed the crusts into the garbage with a small shudder and continued to talk to myself as I folded the box up. "Who orders pizza in the middle of the night? Was he drunk? At least clean up! I am not his maid!" When I opened the pantry to get a new bottle of dish soap, I saw a note taped to the inside of the door.

"My beautiful Juliette," it read. "They say you fall in love only once. That's a lie. Every time I look at you, I fall in love all over again. - R"

It was amazing how something so little could change my demeanor almost instantly. My heart skipped a beat as I reread the slightly messy handwriting on the pocket-sized notebook paper. I folded it carefully and stuffed it into the back pocket of my jeans before grabbing the dish soap and continuing along with the dishes.

Mason seemed to be completely happy where he was, which was a relief. It was obviously one of his good days, and I had to take advantage of it. Once the other kids came home, things would speed up and I simply wouldn't have any time. The laundry hampers were overflowing, so I decided that was going to be my next task. I carried the kids hamper into the laundry room and started to separate the colors and whites. I tossed the colors into the machine and added soap before closing the door. I was surprised when I found another piece of paper taped to the top of the machine.
"Jules, I've never been more certain of anything in my life than I am about us. - R." The same unique handwriting, same notebook paper. It even smelled like him. I bit my lip as I smiled, shaking my head slowly. This must have been the task for today. Just like the other, I folded it neatly and packed it into my pocket before carrying on with my day.

I nearly jumped when I heard the front door open. "I'm back!" I heard Ryland's familiar voice call. The frustration I felt about that boy came flooding back as I followed his voice to him. "Hey Juliette. How are things?" he asked. He sat down on the couch and kicked his feet up onto the back of Mason's bouncy chair.

"Did you have a good time last night?" I asked. "I only ask because from the empty pop bottles and pizza box, it sure seems like you did." The words came out before I could check my tone and attack the situation from a different angle. "Not to mention, all of the clothes."

"Whoa, sorry," he said, throwing his arms up in surrender. "I'll try to pick up after myself. I didn't know it would upset you so much."

I felt bad for acting like that, but it was my house and there had to be some rules. "It's just when you leave your stuff around like that, it sends the message to my kids that it's alright. I know that's not your intention, but just please be more mindful about your behavior. You are a role model for them. They look up to you, Ry." It was mostly true. Plus, it sounded better than just saying that I hated cleaning up after a grown man.

Ryland nodded. "I get it. You opened up your home and I need to be more respectful." He stood up and extended his arms. "Hug it out?"

It was that Lynch charm. I couldn't stay mad at anyone in that family, and it was unfair. I hugged him lightly when I heard the door open again. "Rocky?" I asked as I pulled away.

"The one and only," he replied from the hallway. He left his shoes and sweater on as he made his way to where I stood. "Miss me?"

I pulled the folded paper out of my pockets and held them up. "Was this you?"

"Did you like it?"

I bit my lip and nodded. I felt like a teenager again, feeling so in love for what felt like the first time. "You hid them very well. How did you know I would find them?"

"Hiding them was my special touch," he said with a small kiss on my cheek. "Bro, watch Mason for a minute. Jules and I are going to take a little walk." He handed me a sweater off of the hook and walked over to the door, resting his hand on the doorknob.

The sweater was like a warm hug. When he opened the door, I walked out and was met by a little bit of a cool breeze. In reaction, I dug my hands into my pockets and instantly felt a crunch. When I pulled my hand out, I was holding onto another piece of paper. "Did you plan this, too?" I asked my husband with a laugh. He shrugged with a small smile, his gaze on the ground as if he were shy.

I unfolded the paper and read, "Baby girl, You're the reason I'm breathing, yet you take my breath away. - R."