Chapter 41 – pippa
PIPPA
Inever gave back Ryan’s key card when I moved out. Which is especially convenient now, as I press the elevator button for his apartment. My palms are sweating, and I wipe them on my pants.
“You don’t have anything to be nervous about,” I mutter to myself. “You know how he feels about you, and you know how you feel about him. This is a formality.”
Except it doesn’t feel like that—not at all. I might have written how much I love Ryan, but that’s completely different from saying it to his face. A Word document won’t answer you, no matter how much you type into it.
A human being, on the other hand, can give you an answer that shatters your heart into pieces.
In the shiny elevator door, I examine my blurred reflection. My lipstick is a bloody streak, my hair a stormcloud. Then the doors slide open to Ryan’s apartment, the last physical barrier between us finally gone.
“Ryan?” I call out, my voice shakier than I want it to be. “Ryan, we need to talk.”
Nobody answers. No lights are on, and the furniture forms dark shadows in the skylit rooms. I flip on a light switch, illuminating an empty and suspiciously spotless apartment.
Ryan’s apartment has never been this clean for longer than fifteen minutes.
It’s like he can’t stand a space without an element of chaos—he has to take off his socks and throw them on the floor, or empty out the fridge to make one of his disgusting smoothies.
Now, the apartment looks like it hasn't been touched since I snuck out of it. On a hunch, I head to the kitchen and check the trash can. It’s empty, save for a garbage bag.
There are no energy drink cans in the recycling bin, either.
Has Ryan even come home? A small, dark pit forms in the bottom of my stomach.
Pulling out my phone, I shoot him a text.
Pippa
Are you close to home? We need to talk.
There’s no answer. That’s not too surprising—he could be at a tournament, or at a movie, or busy working out with the guys. But right now, I’m not patient enough to wait. After a moment, I text Cat instead.
Pippa
Hey, have you seen Ryan around?
Cat
No, why?
Pippa
I’m at his place and he’s gone.
Cat
Yes!! Get him, girl!
Pippa
I’m trying to lol But he isn’t here.
Cat
He might be downstairs getting dinner with the guys. That’s where Nate is.
I let out a breath of relief. I’m sure she’s right—those five guys are pretty much surgically attached at the hip. Besides, he can’t refuse to talk to me in front of them.
I take the elevator down to the second floor, tapping my foot impatiently as it moves at what feels like a glacial pace. I’ve really got to talk to whoever’s in charge—it feels like it’s James for some reason—about making the damn elevator move faster.
When the doors finally fucking open, I practically run to the Terrace Steakhouse entrance. The poor hostess standing by the door gasps, her eyes wide like she’s scared I’m going to tackle her—which, from her perspective, is probably what it looks like.
Fortunately for her, four tall figures in workout clothes emerge from the restaurant just in time. Nate, Beau, Luke, and James—with Ryan nowhere to be seen. I frown as I stride toward them.
“Hey, Pippa,” Nate says, looking surprised.
“Hey, guys. I’m looking for Ryan. Is he with you?”
The guys exchange glances. “Haven’t seen him in a few days,” James says.
“We were supposed to play poker tonight, but he canceled,” Beau adds. “He never cancels poker.”
“He hasn’t been in the group chat, either. Our working theory was that you two had a fight,” Nate says.
My face heats. Finding out the guys have been speculating about me and Ryan makes me want to wither into a husk.
I guess I’m not the only one feeling embarrassed, because Luke clears his throat. “I’m sorry for hitting on you so much, Pippa,” he says, staring awkwardly at the ground. “I didn’t realize that you and Ryan…”
He trails off before he defines what me and Ryan are or aren’t. I can feel my face turning red.
“Yeah, well, we were…but now we’re not,” I stutter.
Beau frowns. “Well, if you’re looking for Ryan to give him shit about something, maybe you could hold off a damn minute. We’re legitimately worried about him. We’ve never seen him act like this.”
“No! That’s now why I’m looking for him.” I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. “I have something I need to tell him. It’s really important.”
They all stare at me for a moment. Then, Beau hits Nate hard on the back. “I fucking told you!”
Nate and James both punch Beau in the arm while Luke lets out a whoop and shakes Nate’s shoulders. Somebody wolf-whistles, and for a moment they’re a four-headed mass of celebration. Diners stare openly at them from inside the restaurant.
“Was there a sports game tonight?” someone asks.
My face must be cherry red by now with all the attention they’re drawing. “Calm down, dudes. It’s not that big a deal.”
“Not a big deal?” Beau echoes. “You and Ryan are going to be together and in love and invite us to the world’s most awkward wedding, and you say it’s not a big deal?”
“I call best man!” Luke cries.
“Please,” James snorts. “That’s mine.”
Everyone stops celebrating for a second to stare at him, and he shrugs.
“I was there for him at a pivotal moment in your existing relationship,” he tells me. “I’m sure Ryan will tell you later.”
“If I can find him,” I mutter darkly. I check my phone, just to see if he’s replied yet. I’ve only got missed texts from Cat, no doubt wondering what’s happening.
“We’ll find him,” Nate says reassuringly, before shifting into Security Professional Mode.
“If he’s not in his apartment, there’s a limited number of places he could be.
Beau, you check Velvet and Vice, see if he’s drinking away his problems. Luke, you know a few of his poker buddies, check in with them.
James, can you check the gym and the building perimeter? ”
“‘Perimeter?’ What is this, a manhunt?” Luke jokes.
Nate shrugs. “Yes. Ryan needs us. Pippa, check his favorite take-out places. I’ll have Cat stay in Ryan’s apartment to let us know if he comes back.”
“Text Brinley, too,” Beau suggests. “She said he was at the Copper Cup a few days ago. Maybe he went back.”
Nate nods, opening his phone and creating a group chat. “Everyone, send a message as soon as you spot him. We’re going to find him.” He shoots me a small smile. “I promise.”
Nate
2100 hours check-in.
Cat
He hasn’t come home yet.
Beau
He’s not in Velvet and Vice or Terrace.
Luke
Nobody’s heard from him, and I’ve been patrolling the southern perimeter.
James
I’m on the northern perimeter. No sign of him.
Luke
I’m waving! Can you see me?
James
…
Brinley
I’m closing up shop and coming over. This is so exciting!
Cat
Pippa? Any news?
I sigh, my breath white against the night air. Dozens of texts, but none of them are from the one person I’m hoping for.
Over the past three hours, I’ve run by every bar and restaurant Ryan has ever liked—ever even mentioned.
There was no sign of him, and I’ve walked so much that my feet feel like they’ve doubled in size.
I sink down onto one of the benches outside of the House of Cards, and I can practically hear my toes sighing with relief.
I should go back up to Ryan’s place to debrief with Cat, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. Going back to his apartment without him feels too much like defeat.
It’s not like I have any better ideas for how to find him, though.
Earlier, I thought about calling some of Ryan’s past hook-ups.
Even though the idea of Ryan with another woman makes my stomach heave a little, I’d do it, if it meant finding out where he was.
It would be a pointless exercise, though.
Ryan always believed in a clean break after sex, so the odds of him keeping up a casual friendship with his exes is zilch.
As a last resort, I even called Mom and Jack to ask if they’d heard from him. Jack left the call the second I said Ryan’s name, but Mom was at least concerned. She promised to text him and made me promise to send her some updates.
My toes start prickling, pins and needles. A reminder that they’re not only swollen and exhausted, but cold. I’ve exhausted my time in denial-land. It’s time to go back upstairs and warm up before my feet detach from my body and go find an owner who will treat them better.
The warm air in the lobby feels like a reprimand for not finding Ryan out there in the cold. There’s still some little ball of worry, bubbling in my chest, telling me that I have to find him.
Or maybe…telling me that he’s closer than I think.
Inside the elevator, I press the button for the third floor. This time, it seems to go too fast, spitting me out into the poker room before I’m ready.
There, sitting at his usual table and playing with a stack of chips, is Ryan. Just like I somehow knew he’d be. He canceled poker night so he could be here alone, in the only place that feels more like home than his actual apartment.
He looks like hell. His hair is in an unforeseen state of chaotic messiness, like he’s spent the past three days fiddling through it.
There are dark circles under his eyes, and he looks drawn, like he hasn’t let himself really eat or sleep.
There’s no sign of his usual cockiness in his slumped shoulders.
And he’s never looked more beautiful to me.
He glances up at me, his dark eyes meeting mine. There are no hidden messages in his gaze, no feelings transmitted silently between us. No, whatever happens next, I have to be brave enough to say it out loud.