26. Ryan
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Ryan
My fingers button the white linen shirt over my chest. The resort was kind enough to wash and press it.
Back home, I have a closet full of office clothes, suits, ties, and fancy shirts, but my wardrobe is seriously lacking in vacation attire.
Pretty much everything in that category was packed into my suitcase.
Tonight’s our last night in the resort. The last night that this weird, sort of family, is together. My stomach churns with mixed feelings. Mom loves it here, and I’m sure she doesn’t look forward to going back home.
Even though the girls have tried to stir up some shit, she isn’t bothered by it.
She and Roger are genuinely in love, and it will take more than Paige and Jordan to burst their bubble.
Paige has also seemed to warm up to her.
I notice how her lips tip when Mom tells her a story or gives her a compliment.
It’s Mom working her magic, making everyone around her believe they’re special, but it also reassures me about my emotions toward Paige.
Not that I’m sure how I feel. It’s not something I can put into labels, or even words.
But as I stare at the sun lowering on the horizon, painting the sky with a million colors, I know that a part of me will miss being here.
It might be this paradise island, or the amazing resort, yet I’m pretty sure it isn’t.
I’m pretty sure that I’ll be missing something else entirely.
Maybe my brain associated her with my headache disappearing.
It could have been a total coincidence, but she’s like a highly addictive painkiller, and my body is now craving more.
It’s also the stubborn part of my personality, wanting to prove to her that she’s wrong.
I know she wants me. I know she wants to explore this, whatever the hell this is, but she acts like she doesn’t, saying shit like, ‘This can’t happen again.
’ I rub pomade into my beard and hair, spray some cologne, and head out to our last dinner.
The restaurant for tonight is the epitome of romance. It’s set right on the beach, with tables reaching all the way to the rising tide of the ocean. A giggling couple in front of me slips their shoes off, dashing toward their table. Tiki torches line their way, softening the fading daylight.
I spot Paige first and almost stop in my tracks.
The sea breeze is dancing in her hair, sending a few strands across her cheeks.
Her white dress is loose and off the shoulders, revealing the smooth plane of her neck and collarbone.
She presses a glass of wine to her lips, and my gaze catches on the movement.
After a sip, her tongue darts out to lick off the excess liquid.
For a second, I forget where I am and why I’m here. For a second, I imagine she’s waiting for me. I imagine us on a date, getting to know each other before getting tangled up in sheets.
Mom’s voice breaks me out of my stupor. “Over here.”
My gaze finally flicking away, I notice two more tables to her right.
The tables are round and big enough to seat only two people, solidifying this place as a couple’s paradise, but they have pulled three tables together for us.
Still, it doesn’t make it less couplish when I sit down across from her.
Paige’s pupils widen as she notices me, but she only gives me a stiff smile.
“Want some wine?” Emma offers the wine cooler.
“Sure, thank you.” I pour myself a glass, offering to refill Paige’s.
She shakes her head softly. “No, thank you.”
We order our meals and Mom raises her glass in the air. “To an amazing vacation.”
Roger does the same. “And to many, many more just like this.”
The rest of us follow, raising our glasses before we take a sip of the perfectly chilled wine.
Roger would fit right in with the crew at my previous job.
He speaks their language—money. But he also doesn’t seem consumed by it.
During this entire week, he had only one work call, and I never once seen him answering emails.
He must work hard, considering how successful he is, but he obviously found a good work-life balance, which is something I wholeheartedly admire.
Emma chats with my mom, and I attempt to catch Paige’s attention, locking eyes.
She avoids me like the plague, glancing everywhere but at me.
A ripple stirs in my chest. It might be childish, but I love the effect I have on her.
With my lips resisting a smirk, I shoot her a quick, imperceptible wink.
Even though she isn’t looking at me, I see the sharp intake of breath and the way her fist clenches around her glass.
Risking it all, she levels me with an icy glare before turning her attention to the conversation.
Instead of chilling me to the bone, her irritation heats up my insides, sending fire through my stomach.
When my smile becomes impossible to hold off, the server appears with our plates.
Finally having something to focus on, Paige locks in on the lobster on her plate, studying it with rapt attention.
I suppress a chuckle and cut into the juicy meat on mine.
Even Emma is quiet while we eat. The squeak of knives cutting through food and the occasional comment about how delicious the meal is are the only sounds leaving our tables.
I’m almost done with my steak when Jordan interrupts our silence.
“It’s so nice to get away from reality for a while.
It’s like the real world doesn’t even exist anymore.
Until we get back…” She lets out a dry chuckle.
“Then you’re hit right in the face with all the everyday shit.
Like the dishes never being done, and socks all over the floor.
Kim, do you know Dad physically can’t put his dirty socks in the hamper?
It’s medical mystery, but he’s incapable of it. ”
My fingers wrap around the glass tightly. It was said as a joke, but the undertone is clear. Instead of telling her to mind her own goddamn business, Mom’s face transforms into a grin.
“I know, right? The fact that there’s no cure for it is absolutely tragic. But you know how it goes—in sickness and in health.” Her palm wraps around Roger’s, shutting Jordan up.
Atta girl, Mom.
As I glance at my tablemate, I notice I’m not the only one on pins and needles. Paige’s jaw is clammed shut, her discomfort visible.
Emma breaks the tension. “Still, traveling full-time wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Having someone else take care of the metaphorical dirty socks.”
“No, that certainly wouldn’t be bad,” Mom says with a chuckle.
“You know, it was Paige’s dream once upon a time,” Roger tells Mom. “She wanted to travel full-time and write about the places she visited.”
Paige’s fingers find a napkin and make it their mission to destroy it.
“Really? That sounds so interesting. How come you aren’t doing it right now?”
“Yeah, Paige. How come you gave up on your dream of traveling?” I add, tipping the wine into my mouth.
Paige stares daggers at me before turning to my mom. “I just… it’s not something I want to do anymore.”
“Come on, Paige. You can do better than that,” Jordan comments. “We’re all family here, right?”
Like always, a shudder passes through me at the mention of Paige being my family.
“I simply have other interests now.” Paige’s smile is still and uncomfortable.
I want to hear more. I want to know why she doesn’t want to travel anymore, like I want to know every other detail about her.
“Yeah, your interests are acting like an eighty-year-old. No offense, Dad,” Jordan adds.
“I’m nowhere near eighty,” Roger mutters to himself.
Paige turns to my mom, giving her a shaky smile.
“Like I said, it’s simply not something I want anymore.
” She takes a deep, fortifying breath. “If you’ll excuse me, I don’t feel so well.
I think it’s best I go sleep it off so I don’t get sick on our trip back tomorrow.
” She rolls her lips, drops the maimed napkin onto the table, and gets up.
“Jordan…” Emma murmurs, shaking her head.
My heart beats out of my chest as I watch her leave.
“Fine, I’ll go after her,” Jordan agrees. We’ve obviously touched a sensitive subject.
Jordan starts after her and I’m stuck in place. It’d be weird if I followed her, right? I could say I have a headache, but it’s too soon since her exit for it to be unsuspicious. Like a mirage, a gold sparkle underneath the table catches my gaze. She left her sandals.
In a split second, I grab the sandals, jumping from my seat. “Paige left her shoes. I’m just… I’ll take them back, in case she needs them.”
I jog toward the palm trees where both sisters disappeared before catching up to Jordan. She’s not in a hurry, and Paige is nowhere to be seen. Her eyebrows lower when she notices me.
I lift the sandals into the air. “She left her shoes.”
Jordan’s face relaxes, and she makes a move to take the sandals from my hand, but I slip them behind my back. “I’ll go. You go back, enjoy dinner.” I’m gone before she can ask me why she can’t give Paige her shoes back. It’s not something I know the answer to.
The sun now completely set, I follow the dimly lit path that leads back to our villa. How fast is she walking? My heart still thuds in my chest, not knowing what to expect once I finally find her.
When I do, she’s practically at the door of our villa. I eat up the space between us with long, quick steps.
“Paige…”
Her head snaps back, her eyes widening as she realizes it’s me. The front light casts a soft halo around her head. Once again, I use the sandals as an excuse.
“You left your shoes.”
She rolls her eyes, grabbing the shoes from my hands. “Thank you.”
“Don’t be so grateful. It’s not like I ran all the way from the restaurant.”
She purses her lips, unamused. “Why are you here?” I point to the shoes in her hands, but she shakes her head. “Are you here to taunt me some more? Turn me into the joke of the night?”
“What are you talking about?”
She releases a sigh. “The entire night you’ve been doing dumb shit in an attempt to fluster me. Then you joined Jordan to gang up on me. I shared the womb with her, but I don’t know what gives you the right.”
I lift my hands in surrender. “She was right. She could have said it nicer, but she was right.”
“Right about what?” She now sports a permanent frown between her eyebrows.
“About the way you’re living your life.”
“And you know something about my life?” She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “You don't even have a handle on your own life, and you want to tell me how to live mine?”
I stand up taller. “I do.”
“What?”
“I do know stuff about your life. I may not know why, but I know you’re scared.
Scared of being embarrassed, maybe even scared of being seen.
” I take a small step toward her. “You love to joke around but fight it like it’s something you shouldn’t be doing.
I know you love to write, but hate being forced to write things you don’t want to.
” Another step. “I know you love your sister and her wife, and you trust them with your life. I know you’re fascinated by animals and plants.
I know you love to travel even though you claim you don’t.
” The tips of our toes are practically touching now, and her chin lifts to get a better look at me.
“I know you’re sometimes very mean, but I think it’s only toward me. ”
This genuinely shocks her. “Me? Mean?”
“Yeah. You’re mean. And I know one more thing…” I move a strand of hair behind her ear, and her breath hitches. “More than anything else, you’re a coward.”
“A coward?” Her chest heaves, affected by our closeness.
I stare her down. “Yes, a coward.” She still seems like she’s not sure what I’m talking about, so I add, “You want this between us with every fiber of your being, but you claim you don’t.” I press a finger into her chest. “Because you’re a coward.”