Saving You (Words We Never Said #6)

3. Ridge

CHAPTER THREE

RIDGE

“Real talk—does dropping my kid off with you so I can attend someone else’s kid’s birthday party make me some kind of monster of a father?”

Frey rolled his eyes. “Look, I might say yes if I didn’t know anything about Oz’s family, but I would have put up the biggest fucking fight if you took Ina there.”

Ridge felt a small pang in his chest. “Are they really that bad?”

“I’ve never met them, but trust me when I say I recognize trauma, and Oz has it in fucking droves. I’m surprised he has a straight back with the weight he carries on his shoulders.”

Ridge felt a little shocked and a little disturbed with himself that he hadn’t realized how bad it was for him. They didn’t spend a lot of time together, but they spent enough. But last week had been the first time Oz had said more than a few words about the way he’d grown up.

And Ridge knew it was only because he’d been invited to that birthday party.

“I really like Grady,” he said quietly.

“Grady’s a good egg,” Frey told him, patting him on the thigh. “If it was only him and the kids, I’d say go for it. But you and I both know Ina will have more fun with us, and she’ll get to live in ignorant bliss for a little while longer about how shitty people can be.”

In all honesty, that was the answer Ridge wanted to hear. He’d already made up his mind, but he wanted a little validation. He was going to the party because he liked Grady, but he also wanted to give Oz support. They weren’t as close as Ridge would have liked. He noticed that Oz had been keeping himself at a distance with him more than he did with other people, but he could live with it.

He was still a good person. He deserved better.

“Now,” Frey said, “can we talk about my work drama? You should have seen what Sarina did yesterday when Dr. Belke came in, and I’m still not over it.”

Wandering down the pasta aisle, Ridge eyed several boxes. He was attempting to get Ina to eat more than the six foods she was currently obsessed with, but it was starting to feel like a failing task. He spoke to her doctor about it, but he insisted it was Ina trying to have control in a world full of chaos—or something a little less poetic and more psychological.

It made sense.

Ina already lived in a world that wasn’t built for her. She had friends and family who all spoke her language to varying degrees, and she went to a school that was made for kids like her. But she was starting to reach the age where she realized she wasn’t like most people walking the streets.

Ridge noticed how excited she’d get whenever they’d see people signing. Half the time, she damn near yanked his arm out of the socket trying to pull him across the mall or the park so she could talk to them, but those moments were very few and very far between.

And not everyone was friendly. The last time had been some college kids who seemed extra irritated that some small child was signing at them, and it took Ridge a moment to realize they were ASL students, not Deaf. Ina didn’t quite get it, and she was still too young to read the room, so she threw a tantrum when he pulled her away.

It was one of the least pleasant afternoons he’d had with her in a while.

So, yeah, as long as she was still getting most of her nutrition, he was going to let her live on the damn dino nuggets for a little while longer. He grabbed a couple of boxes of cheap spaghetti for her butter noodle moods—and some pasta for himself—then turned the corner and came to a halt when he saw a pair of familiar faces.

One of whom he hadn’t been expecting to see for a while.

“Ridge!” Gage detached from his dad’s cart and hurried over, slamming into him. Ridge cough-laughed from the force of the hug. Gage was even stronger than the last time he’d been by to visit. “What are you doing here?”

Ridge frowned at his cart. “Uh?”

“Sorry, terrible question,” Gage said in a rush. Ridge took a moment to look at him properly. He looked tired. He had deep, dark circles under his eyes, and he was thinner in the cheeks than he’d been the last time he was in town. “I’m a little out of it.”

“Bad schedule or something else?”

“My sleeping schedule has been really shitty,” Gage said. Adele made a noise of protest as he pushed the cart closer, and Gage rolled his eyes. “I’m a fully grown adult now with a real job who pays my own rent. I can say shitty when something’s shitty.”

“And I’m a fully grown dad who is responsible for your upbringing, and I will scold you when I want to scold you,” Adele said, giving Gage a little shove. He smiled at Ridge and laughed when he saw the contents of his cart. “Still on her nuggets kick.”

“Oh man, I miss my bestie and our dino nuggets together,” Gage said. “She’s not here?”

“She’s at a school thing with Rex and Frey,” Ridge said. “He’s bringing her by later if y’all want to stop by.”

Gage looked sad. “I promised Lucas I’d game with him tonight. But I’ll be around.”

Ridge lifted a brow. “Will you?”

“Long story, but yeah,” Gage said. There was something in his voice that told Ridge not to ask right now. “Dad and I are going apartment hunting next week.”

“Whatever happened, I’m sorry, but I’m glad to have you back. Ina’s gonna freak,” Ridge told him.

Gage brightened, and it was always a wonder to see how much he cared about the kids in their little family. Ridge didn’t want to assume anything about him, but he knew Gage was going to make an amazing father one day if that’s what he truly wanted.

“Sweet.” He turned to his dad. “I’m gonna go grab a couple bottles of iced coffee before I forget. Catch you soon?” he added to Ridge.

“You bet.” When Gage ran off, Ridge sagged over the handle of his cart. “Dad meeting soon?”

Adele smiled at him, looking a little sad and worn himself. “I think we could both use it.”

“Shit went sideways, didn’t it?”

Adele glanced to the side, his shoulders hunched up closer to his ears with stress. “You could say that. You?”

“Nothing new.” Well, the Oz thing was new, but he didn’t want to spill Oz’s business to someone outside of his little circle. Frey was one thing. Frey knew him better than anyone else. “Hey, you get an invite to Grady’s daughter’s birthday bash?”

Adele nodded. “Yeah. He pretty much asked the whole station. A couple of the guys have kids young enough, so they’re going. I thought about it, but then this shit with Gage…” He trailed off. “You taking Ina?”

Ridge shook his head. “Oz said it was probably better if I didn’t. They’re not real great with ASL.”

Adele pulled a face. “I heard something like that. Fucked-up, isn’t it?”

“The worst.” His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he grabbed it, glancing at the screen. It was Frey. “Looks like Frey’s on his way back. I better check out and get home.”

Adele dragged him into a quick hug before he could walk off. “Call me soon. I’m free closer to the weekend if you are.”

“Let me make sure I’m not missing school shit, and I’ll let you know.” Ridge broke away, throwing a wave to Gage, who reappeared as he was walking off, and then he hurried toward the checkout.

He grabbed a few comfort items on the way to the till—a massive bag of Doritos from a sale display and a pile of Reese’s cups because they were the only things that could take the edge off sometimes. He checked out with a friendly woman who leaned in a little too close and hinted a little too hard about being free over the weekend.

He was an expert at pretending to be a big himbo who didn’t get it when people were flirting with him though, which saved him from being direct or mean. She watched him walk away, disappointed but not hurt, which was what he was going for. He was inherently a people pleaser, and there were days he struggled not to do things on someone else’s terms just because it would make them happy.

Of course, becoming a single dad had cooked a lot of those moments out of him. Ina was his priority, and when it came to her, nothing else mattered.

“Ridge!”

Someone called his name right as he was slamming his trunk, and he might have been annoyed, but he recognized the accent immediately and spun around. Oz was a few feet away, both hands shoved into his pockets, looking a little unsure if he was allowed to address Ridge in public without Ina being there.

Ridge lifted his hand and signed, ‘What’s up?’

Oz’s lips twitched up into a smile, and he crossed from his car to Ridge’s. He didn’t take his hands out of his pockets to sign. “I have to pick up a few things for the birthday party, and I just remembered I forgot to check if you have any allergies.”

For the smallest second, Ridge thought maybe that was an excuse—but that was wishful thinking. He did his best not to get lost in Oz’s eyes or the freckles across his cheeks. “Chamomile,” he said aloud, then spelled it on his hand in case Oz couldn’t pick it up.

Oz’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

‘True-biz,’ Ridge signed. “My grandma gave me tea when I was, like…four, I think? I had a stomachache, and she said it would help. I swelled up like that purple kid on Willy Wonka and had to stay in the hospital for three days.”

Oz grimaced. “Must have been rough.”

“I don’t remember it. My uncle took a couple of photos before the paramedics got there. He thought it was hilarious.”

“He sounds like a dick,” Oz said, and his voice was very tense. Ridge had a feeling Oz knew a little too well what it was like to have asshole family who took pleasure in pain.

“There’s a reason I haven’t seen him in fifteen years—and why he’s never going to meet my daughter.” Ridge leaned back against his trunk, folding his arms over his chest. He swore he saw Oz eye his pecs, but his gaze was back up to Ridge’s mouth before he could investigate. “So, no chamomile-flavored stuff, and I think we’ll be good.”

“Won’t be a problem,” Oz told him. He pulled a hand out of his pocket and rubbed the back of his neck. “Look…the party might be weird?—”

Ridge waved his hand to cut him off. ‘If you don’t want me to go,’ he said, switching to sign, ‘I don’t have to.’

“No,” Oz said loudly, and then his ears turned pink with his blush, and he cleared his throat. “I’d love to have you there. My mom and sister have been acting really weird. Like a mile up my ass about what time I’m going to get there and how long I’m staying. I’d really like an ally in case everything goes sideways.”

“You’ve got me,” Ridge said firmly.

Oz bit his lip, then cleared his throat. “I appreciate it.”

Ridge wanted to hug him. The poor guy looked like no one had given him any kind of affection in far too long. And he had a gut feeling that Oz previously had to beg for scraps, which pissed Ridge off even more. But they didn’t have that kind of relationship.

Every time he tried to get friendly with Oz, he was shut down. This was now his moment—maybe. Probably. He was going to be careful with it.

“So, I got ice cream in my trunk?—”

“Oh, right. Yes,” Oz said in a rush. “I should let you go. See you soon.”

Ridge nodded, then shot him finger guns and turned away before Oz could see the abject humiliation on his face.

Finger guns? Seriously? What the actual fuck was wrong with him? He was never this much of a doofus when he was picking guys up at the club.

Why did this one, mostly grumpy, not-quite asshole get him all flustered like he was some seventeen-year-old trying to ask a boy out for the first time?

Christ, he needed to get laid. It was becoming his number one social priority.

Sliding behind his steering wheel, he gave a surreptitious look over his shoulder. Oz was walking toward the store, not looking back. “If he glances at you, you have a shot,” he murmured to himself.

Oz’s pace picked up, and Ridge’s stomach started to sink. And then, for a split second, Oz paused and turned. Their eyes met, and then Oz all but ran for the automatic doors.

“Fuck,” Ridge whispered to himself. He shook his head. He didn’t play ridiculous games with the universe. That meant nothing.

Really. It meant absolutely nothing.