4. Ryan
four
Ryan
O ver the next few weeks, I convince Mel to file reports against the scammer who’d sold her a nonexistent apartment, help her get proper winter boots, and spend every night with her in my arms. She’s slowly gotten comfortable enough to store and unpack a lot of her belongings in my home, instantly making it more homely than I could ever do on my own. Our lives have settled into an easy, comfortable routine—one I can easily see forming the basis of the rest of our lives, but for now, I don’t push the matter.
By now, half the town has seen her car parked up on my drive or seen me waiting around to pick her up after her shifts at the Brewbirds Coffeehouse finishes. Tongues have definitely been wagging.
Not that I care.
I like knowing that the townies finally have something to say about me that doesn’t have anything to do with my parents or what happened to my family. For the first time in my life, the grannies I run into in the general store aren’t giving me huge, sad eyes and patting my hands with that pitying look on their faces.
Instead, I get sly smiles and soft, papery hands tucked into the crook of my elbow while they try to pump me for more information on my “visiting lady friend” and how long she’s staying, considering it’s been over a month now.
Even as I wait behind Mrs. Sanderson who’s taken half an age to decide on a green tea latte and is currently patting her pockets, looking around as if she’s forgotten something, I can sense the eyes boring into my back as I stand in line at Brewbirds Coffeehouse.
Behind the till, Mel’s gaze slides my way and her polite smile melts into a warm, bright one aimed directly at me. I feel that blast of tenderness like an arrow piercing my chest as she mouths, “Hi.”
In front of me, Mrs. Sanderson slips coin after coin from the depths of her pockets onto the counter. I step up and incline my head to her in greeting. “Why don’t you go on and have a seat with your friends, Mrs. Sanderson? This one’s on me.”
“Oh.” She startles, then cranes her neck to peer at me. Then her wrinkled hand lands on top of mine. “Oh, thank you, Shane.”
The mention of my deceased brother stops my heart and I freeze. My jaw tightens as a sharp, slicing pain skewers my insides and makes my voice sound gruffer than I intend. “I’m Ryan, Mrs. Sanderson. Shane’s… gone.”
Her eyes go round and a hand slips over her mouth. “Oh, gosh. Yes, of course. You’re the younger one. Sorry, it’s these cataracts, you know. Messes with my vision.” She squints, then squeezes my hand. “You look so much like him when he’d been your age.”
I manage to grunt in response when she shuffles away while my vision blurs and memories flood my mind’s eye. Crumpled metal. Charred flesh. The putrid scent wafting from the burned crash site following my family’s drunken spill off the side of the mountain. The pathetic collection of flowers tied to the broken guard rail…
A wave of emotions well up inside me. They swirl and mix with the loud whirring of the blender, the harsh grinding of roasted beans, the chatter of the patrons, and the clatter of utensils against plates.
Grief.
Anger.
Loss.
Guilt and regret.
All of them pointless, so I clear my throat and focus on counting out the bills I need to cover Mrs. Sanderson’s green tea latte and whatever the hell I’m having. I don’t really drink coffee, but I’ve started coming to Brewbirds for the ambience. At least, that’s what I’ve been telling people who’ve remarked on my new routine.
Really, I come because I enjoy being near Mel, watching her work. Seeing her blossom as she’s grown in confidence and the locals have taken a shine to her bubbly personality and outspoken nature. All the same reasons I find her irresistible.
Mel reaches for my hand across the counter and the warmth of her skin seeps into mine. She doesn’t move until I lift my gaze to hers, and the sounds of the coffeehouse fade once again into background noise.
Her smile is soft, gentle, knowing.
“Do you know what you want?”
You .
“No, not really.”
“Can I interest you in trying one of our seasonal specialties?”
Clearing my throat, I push aside the past and let Mel ground me in the present. “What do you recommend?”
“Well, my favorite’s the peppermint mocha, but I know you don’t have much of a sweet tooth. So, for you, I think…” She taps one finger against her lips while she considers the options, and for a moment, I think of leaning across the counter and kissing her. Just capturing her pretty mouth and pouring all the gratitude I feel for her into it.
But there are eyes on me and, I remind myself, we’re still just friends.
Except when we’re not.
In the corner of my eye, I see Kelsey piling a tray with orders and frowning in my direction.
“Snickerdoodle latte,” she finishes with a smile. “It’s not as sweet, but still a little indulgent. Cozy.”
“Sounds perfect. That’s what I’ll have then.”
She leans in, eyes twinkling like she’s letting me in on some great secret. “It goes great with our cinnamon rolls, made fresh in-house by our very own, Sloane.” She nods her head and uses her lips to point in her friend’s direction before whispering, “And there are only two left.”
I fight to keep the smile from spreading over my face as I see Sloane sitting at a table with Danielle Fan and a little girl who looks like the spitting image of Sloane in miniature.
“Yes, fine. I’ll have two of those. Send one to Mrs. Sanderson. I’m sure she won’t turn down a sweet treat with her latte.”
“Great!” Mel beams, bouncing on her toes. “You won’t be sorry.”
“I never am with you,” I say.
“I’ll bring it over to you when it’s all ready.”
“Your shift ends soon, right?”
She glances at the clock. “In about thirty minutes.”
“Want a ride home?”
“Oh, um.” Mel’s smile falters as her gaze slides over to Kelsey, who continues to watch me carefully. “Kels said she found a place I should check out that’s within my price range. It’s not too far from hers, so I thought I might go see it with her. If it’s good, then I can be out of your hair, and you can have your man cave back in a week or two.”
I don’t want my man cave back. I like what you’ve done to it. It’s better, more homely with you in it.
The words stick in my throat as my pulse races.
“You can stay as long as you like. There’s no rush.”
I glance at Kelsey, and she stares back with an unspoken challenge clear in her eyes.
“Do you mind, Ryan? Other people are waiting behind you.” She gestures for me to move aside, and I step away from the counter, clearly dismissed.
Mel offers me an apologetic shrug before turning her attention to the next patron, and I take a seat by the window.
It’s not long before Kelsey swipes my order and directs Mel to deliver Mrs. Sanderson’s latte and pastry. The tall brunette makes a beeline for me, plopping my drink and my pastry on the table unceremoniously before crossing her arms and blocking my view of Mel.
“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, Motormoto?”
The use of my old hockey nickname takes me back, and I tip my head to look at Mel’s sorority big sister’s steely expression.
“Having a coffee in your fine establishment. Saw the under new management sign and all the changes you’ve been making to update the place. I hear nothing but good things.” I heft the steaming latte with its artfully poured milk between us and take a sip. It’s so hot, the drink scalds my tongue, but I don’t dare wince. “From the sounds of it, you’re making it a whole Xi Chi Upsilon enterprise. Getting the girl gang back together, are you?”
She tosses her long auburn braid over her shoulder and glances at Mel who’s having a chat with the grannies.
“I’ve always looked out for my sisters, same as you’ve always looked out for your bros.”
“My bros are old enough to look after themselves, Kelsey. I don’t get involved.”
She sighs. “Look, I don’t dis like you.”
“That’s a relief. I was starting to wonder.”
“I just don’t want you derailing her plans, alright? Mel is always putting on a brave face, looking on the bright side, acting like everything’s fine, and she’s got it under control.” She casts another look in Mel’s direction as her laugh drifts over to us, cracking up at something Mrs. Sanderson says. “She moved here to start over and find forward momentum in her life. I think she’s making good strides and seems to be settling in really well. She won’t be able to do that if she keeps falling into old patterns with you. That’s why I think it’s best she gets her own space. Nothing against you, but it’d be good for her to exert her independence.”
“Can’t she exert her independence by deciding for herself whether she ought to stay at mine or rent her own place?”
“Of course she can,” she rolls her eyes. “But she might also just get sucked back into your whole… broody, buff man appeal. Quite frankly, I’m not sure your guys’ addiction to each other is healthy.”
I search her eyes, see the worry etched in the corners of her down-turned mouth. Kelsey’s always been the mother hen of the group, the one who took on everyone else’s concerns as her own. Drawing a deep breath, I remind myself that Kelsey is looking out for her friend.
“I don’t want to hold her back from living her life, Kelsey. I want her to thrive. I want her to be happy. I’m willing to help her accomplish that in whatever way I can. Whatever way she’ll let me.”
Kelsey crosses her arms. “The two of you have been locked in this old dance for years. Don’t you think it’s time to shit or get off the pot?”
“She dumped me,” I counter. “Pretty sure it’s always been her call on what we do or don’t do.”
“Yeah, but do you know why she cut you loose?”
“Because we’re better off as friends,” I parrot automatically, recounting the line she fed me six years ago when she laid me the fuck out with that announcement, and I was too stupid to fight her on it. Too wrapped up in all the plans I’d made to play hockey at a professional level, and too ashamed of the messed up family that raised me to feel like I was worthy of her.
So, I convinced myself that she was right. It’d be better for Mel to live her life without me.
But I was wrong.
Kelsey’s voice softens as she tilts her head to one side. “Do you agree with her?”
Fuck no.
“Cause if you do, then do that. Be friends. Just friends,” she clarifies, with a stern, chiding look on her face. Then, with another glance over her shoulder, she follows my gaze as it connects with Mel’s, and I wave.
Mel bites back a smile, and a blush creeps over her cheeks as she tucks a wayward lock of her hair behind one ear. Then she lifts a hand and turns on her heel, heading back behind the counter to help another customer.
“Or, if you want to be something more than that…” Kelsey steps in front of my line of sight, blocking my view and commanding my attention again. “Stop playing so small and step up to the big leagues.”
“What are you saying?” I frown.
“I’m saying what no one else in this town will say to your face.” Kelsey places her hand on the table, leans down, and stares me right in the eye. “I know you lost your family and didn’t get the career you thought you’d have, but you don’t have to punish yourself for being the only Yamamoto still here. You can—and hell, should —live your life to the fullest. Reach for the things you really want. Because if you don’t, you may lose someone who truly cares for you or cause real, lasting hurt.”
My hand flexes around the steaming mug as my chest tightens.
“I have no intention of hurting her.”
“I don’t doubt that, but you might do exactly that despite your best intentions.”
“All I’ve ever done is give Mel what she’s asked me for.”
Kelsey tilts her head sideways while stepping back. “Have you, though?”
Then she turns on her heel, leaving me to stew on her words as I sip the rest of my snickerdoodle latte. The sweetness of the drink hits my tongue, but I still wind up with a bitter taste in my mouth.