Chapter 29
RYDER
ME: We need to dig further into Mindy, the Stingrays’s PR rep. I might’ve been wrong.
TRACKER: I’ll get someone on it. Sit tight.
______
“Sooo…”
Jamie lets it hang there like I have some sort of juicy secret to spill.
“What?” I say, around a large mouthful of gooey brownie that is pure chocolatey heaven in my mouth.
“Ugh. Don’t even “what” us,” Jos groans. “We’ve hardly seen you these past weeks. You cannot tell us that nothing has been happening.”
I shove the last bite in my mouth and lick my fingers. With Cole’s cookies gone, these brownies are everything I’ve needed.
Are they as good? No. Will I eat another or maybe two? Definitely yes.
“You all clearly think living with Cole is way more exciting than it is?”
Jos’s head falls to the back of the couch in annoyance, and Van lowers one eyelid.
If she thinks that squinty eye will intimidate me into sharing the thoughts rolling around in my head lately, she’s got another thing coming. Those thoughts and feelings are staying tucked away inside my brain where no one else can see them. Hell, I’m pretty sure I don’t want to see them.
“Well, fine then,” Jamie says, snatching the pan of brownies off the coffee table. “Then I’m not sharing either.”
This little redhead did not just steal my pan full of joy.
“You’re eating your feelings.” Jamie shoves the side of the pan against her hip, holding it hostage. “And given that you were about to reach for a third, there are a lot of feelings you’re trying to drown with sugar.”
“We’ve got her by the balls now, boys,” Jos says in an old-timey announcer voice and high-fives Jamie.
Van’s prim and proper ass laughs.
“That man eats nothing but healthy food. You guys really suck.” I flop back on the couch in defeat.
“If you’d just tell us, then you could get back to eating your way into a sugar coma.” Jamie wiggles the pan of brownies in front of her like a master with treats.
Why did Cole have to have an away game? We’d be sitting in amicable silence, watching football, not talking about all the feelings floating close to the surface—feelings I can see and sense, but I’m not allowing close enough to identify.
“Come on. It’s so boring around here,” Jos whines.
“You shouldn’t move in if it’s so unbearable.” I point to the boxes in the corner. “Help Jamie pack if you’re so bored.”
My phone buzzes, and I grab it.
COLE: Landed. My security guard talked THE ENTIRE flight about his wart removal process.
I hold in a laugh, and it buzzes again.
COLE: I have serious concerns about his ability to defend against anything other than HPV.
ME: So, you won’t be inviting him into your room for a protein bar and sudoku?
COLE: Anyone ever tell you you’re a smartass?
“All right, that’s it.” Van claps her hands together.
Then I hear the distinct sound of the FaceTime tones. I slowly lower my phone to the couch and see three pairs of curious eyes staring at me.
“Hey, Van,” Lyla’s voice comes through the speaker, then her face appears on the screen, pointed straight at me. “Ry, uh, what’s going on?”
She sits on her couch, the one I recognize from my short visits to New York City, and brings the phone closer to her face.
“Ryder is about to tell us what’s really been happening with The Assignment,” Van declares from her perch across from me.
“Oh, okay! I can’t miss this.” She wiggles into her couch a little more as Van, Jos, and Jamie sit, encircling me like vultures eyeing their prey.
“Guys, there’s nothing to tell,” I articulate clearly.
“Ha. That smile two seconds ago tells us there are definitely things that need telling,” Jamie says.
The little swirls rotating through my stomach only moments ago are squandered by the intense pressure of having to talk about Cole.
My brownies squish upward, and I have to sit up.
“It was a big thing for you to involve Cole in what you do,” Van says softly. “We all know you didn’t just go home after he helped you rescue Mattie and pretend that nothing happened.”
Of course, they’d give that sweet boy a nickname, and my heart squeezes at the mention of him.
These chicks are wrong. We kind of did. But then, Cole dropped a huge-ass pile of vulnerability at my feet in the stadium parking lot.
I want to run and hide inside his sweatshirt that smells like clean man and fresh-cut grass. I inhale through my nose, pulling forth his unique scent. If he happened to hug me for a really long time while I was hiding in there, that’d be ok, too.
I slap a hand over my face like I said all that out loud.
Jamie leans a little closer. “You’ll feel better if you get it out.”
I pinch my eyes closed, knowing I did not feel better after leaving Kerry the other day. It’s all freaking nuts, like I’m on one of those whirly rides where you don’t know which way is up or if anything will ever feel normal again once you’re finished.
I drag my hand from my face. “Actually, we didn’t talk about it. I think we both needed to process. . .things. He had a rough game, and then I blew everything he thought he knew about me to shit.”
“You have a knack for that,” Jos tosses out, but there’s a gentleness to her usual sarcasm.
I drop my head against the couch and stare at the plastered waves in the ceiling. “He’s just so. . .good.”
Everything he dumped at my feet in that stadium parking lot has played on repeat in my head, and I don’t know what to do with any of it.
I want to understand whatever you’ll allow me.
He told me he’s scared, and he should be. He has no idea what he’s asking.
“I think we’re. . .friends.” I put it out there very delicately.
“Friends,” Lyla repeats the word as if she’s waiting for me to hear it.
“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know.” I lift my head, shaking it. “It’s a lot, living with him, spending so much time together, learning about each other.”
“And you like it? Living with him and spending time together?” Lyla asks.
Why do I feel like I’m on the witness stand?
Yes, your honor. I like being with Cole.
I think about his hand wrapping around mine and tugging me into the carnival. No warning bells sounded. It was bold but. . .reassuring, like everything was ok. A simple point of contact that’s only added to the mounds of confusing sensations sneaking up on me.
Those few hours with Cole were like none I’ve ever had. His easygoing, gentle confidence is contagious. What we did that afternoon might be what some people call fun.
I lean forward as each muscle begins to constrict, and my pores spew sweat.
“It’s. . .easy to be with him. Mostly.”
Except for when I start feeling things and I don’t know what they are or what to do about them.
Things I’m not sure I should even be feeling.
I can still feel his careful fingers running over my bare skin, which I thought would make me want to shave the layers off afterward.
But instead, his touch felt warm and soothing and. . .nice.
I rest my arms on my knees, forcing myself to breathe. “He saw my brand.” I’ll give them this.
“How?” It’s Jamie’s tender voice.
“A piece of glass caught me that night, and I couldn’t reach to make sure the wound was clean or see how deep it was.”
“What did. . .he say?” Lyla tiptoes through the question.
I remember his eyes pausing for those three seconds. “Nothing. He just…moved along.”
“Hold on,” Jos’s hand pops into the air. “You were topless in front of him? Ry, this is huge!”
I stretch back, giving my semi-functioning lungs some room. “No. I had a bra on, dummy.”
“That’s still pretty big,” Lyla points out.
“It was, but Cole is. . . It’s like he somehow understands.” I squeeze my eyes shut so hard my face hurts, knowing what I say next will blow the lid off the box I keep duct-taped, reinforced with a padlock, and a rigged grenade.
This shit is about to be blasted wide open, and dammit, here it goes.
“It wasn’t. . .terrible.”
Nothing but complete silence.
I keep my eyes closed, focusing on each breath.
Then, breathing some more as my heart pounds so hard it’s all I can hear. My entire body is coated in a damp layer of sweat, and there’s that painful ache in the back of my throat that will not win.
I just sit, letting my chest rise and fall, waiting for it all to settle down, but it won’t.
Then, eventually, I hear, “Ry,” Jamie whispers.
“I just stood there, letting him touch me. His hands were attentive but gentle and. . . He hugged me. Like really hugged me, and I kind of liked it. I mean, I’d let him do it again. I fell asleep in his room. He slept in his bed, and I stayed in the chair. Just like that.”
I stand, unable to control the absolute panic, taking a shot at every opening.
“He’s so damn careful and kind and funny and smiles like all the freaking time.
It’s like he knows when to push and when not to.
He took my hand the other day. Just grabbed and held on like it was no big deal, and it wasn’t.
So, I held his back. We spent the afternoon together playing carnival games, laughing and.
. .it felt kind of like a date, I think.
I mean, I’ve never been on one, but I imagine that’s what it’s like. ”
Holy shit!
I spin, looking at them, and they’ve adjusted the phone so Lyla can still see me.
“He told me he doesn’t understand, but he wants to.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t understand,” Jamie says carefully, knowing I’m two seconds away from having a raging anxiety attack. “Do you want him to?”
I think about everything he said about not having to hide from him and admitting he’s scared. The man and his self-assurance kill me. But that single statement gave me so much relief because me, too.
I’m terrified of the things awakening within me that challenge what I was sure were long dead and gone, never to be resurrected. It’s disturbing the thing I’ve believed about myself and held onto tightly for security and comfort. But being with Cole. . .they’re starting to fall away just a little.
I sit back down, my muscles vibrating. “I don’t know,” I admit softly because this shit aches in all the places I don’t like messed with, and Cole Matthews is ruffling all of them.
I take some deep breaths, trying to relax my body’s flight response. “He has this way of making me feel so completely comfortable that I end up thinking it might be ok. But then something happens, and I’m reminded of who he is and. . .who I can never be.”
“Two people,” Van says quietly. “You’re just two people with lives. Parts of them you’d probably both like to change.”
That’s a vast understatement. Cole has been through things.
I know his mom was killed in an accident, but he’s never talked about it.
His dad died, and he has four young siblings.
He’s a man who keeps his world small, so he doesn’t have to face the constant disappointment of never really being seen or being enough.
“He doesn’t know the things I’ve done. Where I’ve been. Who I am.” My brownies seriously might make a return. I suck in air and push out. In and out. “Guys, he’s my assignment. It is my job to protect him, and that’s it. When this is over. . . ”
“It’s ok if he’s more than just a job,” Jos says as if it’s that simple.
“It’s also ok if you like how he makes you feel and you want to hold his hand or allow him to touch you,” Lyla adds.
Would it, though? Be ok? I don’t know.
I ease back into the couch. “What if I freak out or I’m not ready for…something?” I think about him lying on the tile floor in the kitchen, holding his side.
“You have to talk to him,” Van says matter-of-factly. “You said he doesn’t push. If he’s really your friend, he won’t. He’ll listen and be patient.”
“This is insane.” I rub my face.
“I think this is how it’s supposed to be. Well, maybe not this hard, but these kinds of feelings,” Jamie says delicately.
I peek at her.
“Ry, we don’t encounter people often who make us feel that safe. We can’t fight it when we do. Otherwise, we’d never trust anyone, and we all know how incredibly lonely that is.”
“So, what? Just tell him everything. Wait for him to fill with disgust and make sure there are two feet between us at all times, never able to look me in the eye again.”
“That’s a possibility,” Van confirms. “Or what if he still wants to hold your hand and. . .maybe more.” Her eyes meet mine.
Both scenarios cause equal amounts of anxiety and make me want to punch something really, really hard.
“Or you can run away. Let TJ take over and put yourself out of your misery.” Jos nabs the pan of brownies out of Jamie’s reach and digs one out with the spatula.
“Then we’ll all just go back to believing that no one will ever want us.
We’ll grow into sad, miserable old ladies who can kick real ass but never know what it’s like to do any of the things with a man a woman should want to do.
” She shoves half the brownie in her mouth and begins to chew.
We all stare at her, except for Lyla, who’s still pointing in my direction, but her eyes are humorously wide.
“What?” Jos says, her mouth so completely full. “It’s true.” She points at me. “You’ve just never allowed yourself to think about wanting those things, and now you might.”
Well, fuck.
The sassy little shit might be right. I throw a pillow at her, and she dodges it.
“Come on, Ry. Do it for us and The Assignment,” Jamie begs. “Just let yourself want one thing at a time.”
They snicker as if my torture is now amusing. I’m terrified to want anything with Cole, let alone the things they might be referring to.
I feel my face heat.
“Those things, too,” Lyla sings.
I flip her the bird, and she cracks up laughing.
“I can’t wait until it’s one of you.” I glare at all of them.
“We love you,” Van claims.
“Right. You all need not forget he is my assignment. It’s my job to protect him. That is what I have to do.”
“It’s perfect, then. You’ll do anything for the ones you love.” Jamie grins, and they snicker.
“Oh, fuck off. What the hell did you put in these brownies? You all have lost your minds.” I stand, ready for some space and time alone in my room.
“You just have to find his stalker so you can be his real girlfriend.” I hear Lyla holler.
Be patient. Just one thing at a time. Allow myself to explore.
What a crock of shit.