Chapter 61 Phones Go Both Ways
Phones Go Both Ways
Tessa
"Oh, stop it," I laughed. "I did not."
"How do I know?" he said, giving me a quick once-over from the armchair. "You look damp to me."
We were sitting in the living area of his suite, with me perched on the sofa opposite him. With a snort, I reached for a throw pillow and lobbed it at his head. Of course it missed, bouncing off the wall and landing uselessly near the coffee table between us.
But I'd made my point – and made him laugh, which was the whole idea.
I looked damp because Ryder had insisted on letting me borrow his bathroom so I could soak in its massive tub – not only to clean off the mud, but to get myself warm.
Now, I was wearing borrowed clothes – a black T-shirt and gray running shorts with a drawstring at the waist. They were Ryder's, so I was swimming in both of them. But at least I was comfy.
My hair was still slightly wet – but from a quick shampoo, not, as Ryder had just suggested, from dashing back into the storm to fix the flowers.
The idea was ridiculous, anyway – as if I could sneak off while Ryder was watching me so closely.
Aside from giving me privacy in his bathroom, he'd been looking at me non-stop. And I'd been looking at him, devouring the sight of him while the storm raged outside.
Apparently, most of the island had already lost power, but you'd never know it here, where the hotel's backup system was keeping things surprisingly normal.
Night had already fallen, and we'd just spent a few hours catching up – not rehashing our argument, but dancing around it like neither of us wanted a repeat performance.
But finally, I just asked it, the question that had been on the tip of my tongue for the past hour. "So, what have you been doing?"
"Working."
"On what?"
He shrugged. "Eh, the usual."
I laughed. "Gosh, could you be any more vague?"
He smiled. "I could always be more vague."
"Fine. Then could you be less vague? Seriously, what have you been up to?" I picked up another pillow and turned it over in my hands. "I'm guessing you went back to Chicago?"
"Yup."
"For how long?"
He gave it some thought. "About six hours."
I blinked. "Wait…did you say…hours?"
"Yup."
I couldn't decide if I should feel happy or insulted. "So you've been here the whole time?"
"More or less."
I leaned back on the sofa. "Oh."
"Is that a problem?"
"No. Not at all." But then I paused. "I guess I just figured that, well…if you were still here on the island, I might've seen you."
He leaned forward then, resting his forearms on his knees. "Just because you didn't see me doesn't mean I wasn't around."
I gave a nervous laugh. "Well, obviously. But why weren't you…?" I let the words trail off, too embarrassed to say them.
Ryder finished on my behalf. "Hounding you?"
"I wouldn't have put it that way. But yeah, I guess I'm a little curious why you haven't stopped by the coffee shop." Or texted. Or called.
His gaze locked on mine. "You think I didn't want to?"
"Honestly? I don't know."
Softly, he said, "Trust me. I wanted to."
At this, a happy little glow settled in my stomach. And yet, I just had to ask, "So why didn't you?"
"Because you said you needed space."
"Yeah, well…maybe not that much space."
Suddenly, his face lost all trace of humor. "I'm no Evan."
"I never said you were…" But then, I paused with a little wince. "Actually, I guess I did sort of say that, huh?"
He nodded. "And not just once."
Heat rose to my cheeks. "So, if it weren't for Evan, you might've stopped by? Or texted? Or something?"
"Screw that guy," he said. "It was you comparing us that had me holding back."
I tried for a laugh. "So you were what? Punishing me?"
With a wry smile, he replied, "More like punishing myself. But you needed to know, he and I – we're nothing alike."
Too quickly, I said, "I know."
"But you keep forgetting." He gave me a look. "And phones go both ways, you know."
"Well maybe I didn't want to hound you." I forced a laugh. "I mean…I bet you get hounded all the time."
He smiled. "If you'd texted, I would've answered."
I couldn't help but smile back. "So you're admitting it? You do get hounded?"
"Sure," he laughed. "One time, my favorite barista threw a pillow at me."
"Oh, come on! I can't be your favorite. I totally suck at the barista thing."
"And yet, you won't quit."
I didn't appreciate the reminder. "I can't. I might see Delaney." Desperate to change the subject, I leaned forward. "Do you know, Maisie hasn't heard from her either?"
Judging from his face, he didn't understand the significance. "And that's odd, because…?"
"Because they're best friends."
He sat back in his chair. "They are?"
"Yeah. Didn't I mention that? That's the reason I came to the island in the first place. I was thinking my sister might be at Maisie's."
He paused as if thinking. "And how do you know Maisie hasn't heard from her?"
"Well…I didn't want to ask outright, because Maisie would never tell me."
"And you know this how?"
"I just do. Maisie is Delaney's friend more than mine. She'd never choose me over my sister."
"Who says she'd have to choose?"
"Well…let's say Delaney asked Maisie to keep her location a secret. And I asked Maisie where Delaney was. It's pretty obvious what Maisie would do."
"And what's that?"
"She'd give Delaney a heads-up, and then I'd never get ahold of her."
Ryder frowned like he wasn't buying it. "Do you always assume the worst? Or only when it comes to your sister?"
And now I felt defensive. "It's not an assumption if it's true."
He still looked unconvinced. "If you say so."
I stared for a long moment. "Is there something you want to say?"
"I always have something to say. The real question is, do you want to hear it?"
I settled deeper into the sofa and resisted the urge to cross my arms. "Sure, why not?"
"Alright. Just this. There's playing it safe. And then, there's playing it too safe."
"Yeah, but…" I paused. I'd been about to argue, but once again, Ryder was right.
Now that I understood Maisie better – and realized that she'd been just as clueless as I was – I couldn't help but see that I'd wasted over a month being sly when I could've simply cut to the chase.
How many other times had I made such a mistake?
Softly, I said, "I guess old habits die hard."
"What habits are those?"
I hugged the pillow close to my chest as I searched for the words to explain. Thinking out loud, I said, "Growing up, I always felt like I had to be perfect, you know? My mom – she had super-high standards, and I could never quite measure up."
"In what way?"
"Every way – appearance, grades, you name it."
He studied my face. "Is that why you won't quit?"
"You mean the coffee shop?" I shrugged. "Maybe a little. It's just hard to admit failure, you know? Plus, I really do want to keep an eye out for my sister."
His gaze warmed as he quietly asked, "But who's keeping an eye out for you?"
I smiled as I considered his recent rescue. "Apparently, you are."
He grinned. "Got that right. Speaking of which…you wanna grab something to eat?"
Now that I thought about it, I was absolutely starving. I glanced toward the balcony, where rain was still hammering the glass. With a reluctant wince, I said, "I'm not sure that's a good idea."
He glanced toward the balcony before looking back to me. "How about this? We'll order something up."
"So you have room service?" Vaguely, I recalled Maisie mentioning that most hotels didn't.
"No, but there's restaurants that deliver – even after hours if you know who to ask."
I almost snickered. "What about during a storm?"
"Lambchop," he said. "If you want it, I'll get it. It's not a big deal."
It felt like a big deal to me, and I gave a happy nod. "Actually, that'd be really great." I bit my lip. "But would you mind if I checked on the bike first? I really do want to take a better look at it."
"Tell ya what. We'll order first. You wait for the food. And I'll check on the bike."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I saw how diligent you were earlier."
"I was diligent," he said. "Just with you, not the bike." He gave me a reassuring smile. "But I promise. I'll take a careful look now, alright?"
I couldn't argue with that, so I didn't. Instead, we browsed some menus, ordered more food than we'd probably ever eat, and nearly lost track of time before Ryder abruptly stood to say, "I almost forgot about the bike. Hang on. I'll be back in a few minutes."
When I nodded, he headed toward the suite's door, but then paused. Turning back to face me, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He tossed it onto the side table and said, "When they show up, pay with cash, and leave a good tip, okay?"
I considered how much he had tipped me at the coffee shop and asked, "How good?"
"There's a bunch of hundreds," he said. "If they're nice to you, give them one of those."
I smiled. "And if they're not nice?"
He gave me a look. "Then give me their name, and I'll deal with it when I get back."
I wasn't even sure if he was joking, but I laughed anyway, and then settled back on the sofa to wait – whether for Ryder to return or for food to arrive at the door.
In the end, the food won out. The delivery person arrived shortly after Ryder left. The man delivering it was exceptionally nice, so as Ryder had instructed, I grabbed his wallet and dug out the cash. But as I did, something else fluttered to the floor.
A business card.
I didn't give it much thought as I paid, tipped, and got everything settled with the food.
Alone again, I almost forgot about the card until I glanced toward the door and spotted it lying carelessly on the carpet.
I jumped up from the couch and rushed over to crouch down and pick it up. By the time I stood, my blood had gone ice cold.
My fingers trembled as I read the name on the card.
Evan Carver.
In stunned horror, I turned it over as dread pooled in my chest. Scribbled on the back was a place and a date, written in basic blue ink like it meant nothing at all.
The place was a rooftop bar I'd been to exactly once, maybe a year ago. But it was the date that made my stomach lurch like I'd eaten something bad.
The date was a month ago – around the same time Ryder had first arrived on the island.
And now, my whole body was shaking, but not from the cold.
It was from a horrible realization. I'd been a fool.
I glanced toward the balcony, where rain still pounded the glass. Thunder rumbled. The wind howled. And even here in the hotel, the lights flickered just a little.
Suddenly I didn't feel safe.
And it wasn't because of the storm.