Old Enough to Love... (Just One of the Guys) by Kristi Pelton

mean…together?” I couldn’t feel my numb feet. 
    “Em. I am begging you. Let’s go to the car and warm up. I’m even cold.”
    “Please, tell me what that means,” I asked calmly, but the restriction of my chest was becoming painful. I needed my inhaler.
    “It means what you think it means.” His sympathetic voice annoyed me. “I was stupid. I didn’t know anybody. You had left…”
    “Oh! This is my fault?” I screamed then regained control. “I’ve been around too many guys to see how you all always manipulate the story to be the girl’s fault. And they take it. They somehow believe they did something wrong. Dumbass’!” I was pissed and turned to walk away.
    He grabbed my shoulders with force. “I’m not blaming you. I own this.”
    I tried to pull away and suddenly he yanked me from the water and carried me to dry sand. “At least get out of the water.” His words were stern.
    “So you… you two…” I covered my eyes with my fingers like that could prevent the images from coming.  “…you two…” I was stuttering—again.
    “Yes. We hooked up.” He grimaced as the words came out.
    My knees wobbled beneath me then buckled and I fell in the sand. It hurt—the words—the thoughts—the images. I didn’t want to picture it, but I did. I saw it in my mind, play out over and over. His tan hands in her onyx hair as his lips kissed hers.
    “I’m truly sorry,” he murmured in my ear, and I realized he’d knelt next to me. Before I could shove him away, he’d wrapped me in his arms tucking my body into his chest. He was so warm.
    “Why are you sorry? You don’t owe me anything.” My body stiffened. 
    “Listen. If I thought it would have made a difference, I would have told you.  I would not have lied about it.” He stared at my face. “You’re breathing funny.”
    “ Em!”
    From up the hill, I heard the voices of Ryan and Grant who had parked themselves about thirty yards away. When I tugged my body, Zach withdrew his hold from me immediately. I dashed to them burying my face in Ryan’s ribs.
    “Tell me—you didn’t cry,” he asked, pecking my hair with a kiss.
    I stared up at him and shook my head. I wasn’t sure if he believed me. My shallow half breaths were coming quicker.
    Grant pulled his sweatshirt off and nestled it down over my head—the strong smell of campfire smoke permeated the material but it felt warm.
    “Are you OK? Ryan asked.
    “You knew?”
    He nodded. “She told me the minute we got back from Cannon, trying to make me jealous. I didn’t give a shit, and I’m sure that pissed her off even more. So, I think she went after you.”
    “Does he like her?” I asked.
    Ryan shrugged. “I can’t answer that one. Only he can. I could beat it out of him.” Though he grinned, there was a shard of sincerity to his words.
    My eyes moved from Ryan’s to Zach’s, who’d wandered toward us.
    “ Em, where’s your inhaler?” Grant asked.
    I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I whispered.
    “What inhaler?” Zach asked.
    “Zach, did she bring a bag with her?” Grant’s voice was tense.
    My eyes closed as I fought for air.
    Suddenly there was cold on the right side of my body as Ryan’s arm abandoned me. I heard the jingle of keys. “It doesn’t matter. There’s one in my truck. Go fast, G!”
    “Ryan! What’s going on?” Zach’s voice brought my eyes open for a moment.
    Ryan held me close. “Don’t go to sleep, Runt.”  He patted my cheeks harder than normal.
    “It’s her asthma,” I heard him explain.
    “Asthma? I didn’t know.”
    This time Ryan’s touch was a simple, soft caress. “She’s gonna be OK. Aren’t you, Runt? Look at me. Look at me, Em!”
    I opened my eyes to the urgency of his voice. He smiled at me.
    “Faster!” He yelled.
    “Ryan, is she gonna be all right?”