Chapter 15 Ryan
RYAN
The knock on the door is hesitant, so I know it’s not Hudson. It’s probably the nurse, or the physio come to nag me about the missed session today.
“Come in,” I mutter, bracing myself for another reprimand. I almost wish they would just kick me out already and leave me be.
But then the door squeaks open, and a small voice speaks. “Stinky.”
Curious, I sit up to find Paige and her son in the doorway.
“Can we come in?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, clearly as pushy as her brother.
Paige sweeps into my room like she owns it, bringing in sunshine and fresh air. For a moment, I forget to breathe. Her hair, longer than I remember, is tangled by the wind, and her cheeks glow. I drag my gaze away before she catches me staring.
A new shame creeps up my body as she scans the room. Hudson’s been keeping it neat, but he hasn’t visited yet today, and there are dirty dishes in the sink, local papers that the nurse keeps leaving sitting in a pile on the beside table, and yesterday’s clothes in a heap on the floor.
I brace for her pity, but Paige just frowns. “You need some air in here.”
She moves through the room as if she’s been here a hundred times, hips swaying as she wrestles the window open with one hand while balancing the kid on her hip.
I remember those hips pressed to mine, and the memory hits so hard I have to look away.
“You want a coffee?”
She doesn’t wait for an answer, just strides to the kitchenette, fills the jug, and puts it on to boil, all one-handed.
As she moves through the space, the boy’s head turns to stare at me, his wide brown eyes locking onto mine with unapologetic curiosity.
He’s clasping a large orange maple leaf in his hand, and he waves it like a flag.
“Why are you here?” My voice comes out as a croak. It’s the first time I’ve spoken to anyone today.
“You didn’t show up for work, and Joel needs shit done.”
She opens up cupboards until she finds the mugs. They’re shiny and new, like everything here. After she selects two, she spoons instant coffee into them.
The water boils, and she pours the water into the mugs, sniffing the milk before adding it to both. Then she turns around and looks at me for the first time.
“And I thought we should talk.”
The smell of coffee fills the room, rich and warm. For a second, I could almost believe this is the morning after, not three years later. The only thing missing is her smile over the rim of her mug.
Paige reminds me of what I once was, a man who an attractive woman would want to spend the night with. Now, I’m nothing, and I hate that she sees me like this.
My head hits the pillow, and I stare at the ceiling. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
She scoffs, and I hear her shifting the child around and placing him on the floor. He mumbles something, and next thing I know she’s by the bed, bringing the scent of coffee and grass cuttings with her.
“I disagree.”
She sets the coffee on the bedside table and fumbles around by the bed. There’s a mechanical whirl, and the top of the bed starts tilting.
“Hey, what are you doing?” I say, surprised. I roll over and wince as I roll onto my stump. She holds the bed controller out of my reach. But she doesn’t know there’s a built-in one on the side of the bed.
I push the down button, and the top of the bed changes direction, moving back to a flat position. I glare at her as I keep my finger on the button.
But instead of glaring back, she smiles. “Hah! Got ya to look at me.”
As she drops the remote back on the bed, her hand brushes my arm, and my skin lights up like a live wire.
It shouldn’t. Not after everything. But her laugh—God, I’d forgotten that sound—stirs something inside me I thought was dead. For a moment, I’m back in the hotel room, kissing her thighs as she tries not to laugh while ordering room service.
But then I feel the pain in my leg and roll back onto my back to stare at the ceiling. That was a lifetime ago, I remind myself. Any opportunity for more has passed.
“Hudson told me you lost your leg.” The humor has left her voice. “I’m sorry.”
In the silence that follows, there’s the chatter of her boy and the sound of a toy car rolling over linoleum.
Not wanting to talk about my leg, I say, “He seems like a happy kid.”
She takes a sip of coffee, and the smell of it makes my mouth water.
“He is,” she says quietly.
“You must have moved on pretty quickly.” It comes out bitter. But I can’t help myself. I thought we had a connection that weekend, but to her, it was exactly what she said it would be: a one-off thing. No strings.
She doesn’t say anything, and I know I’m being mean, but I can’t stop. “Father not around?”
She takes another sip of coffee, and damn, I want to sit up and have a drink, but I made a show of staying horizontal, and I’m not backing down now. Besides, this conversation is easier when I can’t look at her.
“No.” Her voice is strange, and without looking at her, I can’t see what’s going on. If I hadn’t just taken some more painkillers, I might be able to figure out what her tone means, but my brain is sluggish, which is how I like it these days.
“I didn’t know you were Hudson’s sister when we…”
“I know,” she says softly. “We didn’t use names. I didn’t know who you were either.”
“Does he know?”
She gives a throaty chuckle. “Oh no. He has no idea. But he’s not stupid. He’ll figure it out.”
I frown. “He doesn’t need to know that we fucked once.”
She sucks in her breath, and I curse myself for using the harsh word. Fucking doesn’t come close to describing what we did that weekend. But if Paige is looking for a repeat performance, she needs to know it’s not an option. I’m no good to anyone now, least of all a woman like Paige.
“Is that all it was to you?” Her voice is quiet.
I keep my focus on the ceiling. “Yup.”
There’s silence as the lie settles around us. For three years, I longed to run into “Rose.” I imagined what I would say and how we would spend longer than a weekend together. We’d explore the connection and see how far it would take us.
But not like this. Not bedridden and jacked up on painkillers. She deserves better than this. What happened in the past can stay in the past. There’s no point in longing for what might have been.
She moves away from the bed, and I hear the tap run as she washes her cup in the sink.
“We go, Mommy?” the kid asks.
“Yeah.”
I hear footsteps marching back to the bed, and then she looms over me so I can’t avoid her.
“You’re not ready to talk, and that’s fine. You’ve got a lot going on. You can be pissy at me and feel sorry for yourself, but don’t let Joel down. That dude’s done a hell of a lot for guys just like you. You lost a leg. Stop crying about it and get your ass out of bed.
“I didn’t know you were Hudson’s friend when we met, but I don’t recognize you as the Ryan my brother told me about when he came out of BUD/s. He said you were tenacious and determined and tough as fuck. So start acting like it.”
She’s standing over me, fierce as hell, eyes blazing. I should be pissed, but all I can think is how beautiful she looks when she’s angry.
“Are you always this bossy?”
“Are you always this grumpy?”
She glares at me, and in the silence, a little voice says, “Fuck.”
The kid parrots her curse, and she groans, all flustered and adorable. I crack a smile. The little guy swears like me.
“That is not a word for you, Noah.” The smile returns to her face as she looks at him.
She’s softened by the boy, and motherhood suits her. I wonder at the asshole who let her and the boy slip through their fingers.
“It’s none of my business, but do you see the father?”
My chest aches. I want to be the man who’s there for her, not the ghost she’s come to scold.
She gives me a quizzical look. “Um, no.”
Something jogs my memory. “Hudson said the father wasn’t around.”
When she shakes her head, her hair falls around her face like a waterfall. “Did he now?”
“It’s the reason he got out.”
She frowns and pulls back. I prop myself up on my elbows so I can see her.
“What do you mean?” The boy toddles over to her.
He really is cute, with a mop of dark curly hair and wide chocolate eyes. He tugs at her leg, and she hoists him onto her hip.
“He left the SEALs to help you raise the baby.”
Her brow creases in confusion. “He left because he got injured.”
My brain is drug-addled, but I’m sure about this. He spoke to me about it at length. Some scumbag knocked his sister up, and she wouldn’t tell him who. He was torn between his family and the Teams.
“I remember. He left because his sister was having a baby on her own, and you don’t have any parents. He needed to be there for you.”
Her expression turns from confusion to anger. “He didn’t. I’ve raised Noah on my own. Hudson being around has been a massive help, but he didn’t leave because of me.”
But there’s a waver in her voice that tells me she isn’t sure.
“What kind of scum leaves you pregnant and doesn’t own their mistake?” I know as soon as I say it that I’ve made a mistake.
She clutches the child to her chest and clamps her hands over his ears. “Noah is not a mistake,” she hisses.
I hold a hand up, apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”
The child wiggles in her arms and whines. “He’s the best thing that’s ever happened in my life, and I wouldn’t change a thing. And the father didn’t leave me pregnant because the father never knew.”
She’s breathing hard and holding the kid too tight, because he squirms in her arms and protests. I get the feeling there’s something here I should understand, but my brain can’t make the connection.
“The father didn’t know because we didn’t exchange phone numbers or names.”
Cogs in my brain are moving into place, but still I can’t grasp it. He’s the product of a one-night stand, which meant the Rose I knew must’ve been having more than one.
The boy starts to whine, and she pulls him back to her chest, lowering her voice. “Noah will be three in March. Do the math, Ryan.”
Noah swivels his head around to stare at me with eyes that remind me of my mother’s.
Finally, the cogs clank into place, and my breath stops in my chest. She kisses the top of his curly head, trying to calm him. But all I can do is stare.
“He’s...” I can’t say the words. My throat is dry, and my mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air.
She wraps her arms around the boy’s head, covering his ears again.
“Yes, Ryan. Noah is your son.”
There’s a gasp from the doorway, and I glance over as Paige spins around. Hudson stands in the doorway, his expression as shocked as my own. There’s no doubt he overheard.
Noah howls, and Paige strides to the doorway with him.
“I have to go.”
Hudson steps aside to let them pass, but his gaze is locked firmly on me.