Chapter 14 #2
I want to speak. To cuss him out or beg him to kiss me or something. But my mouth isn’t working.
People watch as he grabs my hand—what in the world is happening, oh my God, what in the world—and gives me a none-too-gentle tug toward the night that surrounds us.
“Ryder?” I feel stupid. His grip on my hand is firm, unyielding. “What—why are you here? Where are we going? How did you find me?”
No answer.
He leads me back toward his truck, just out of everyone’s earshot.
“You’re a fucking brat, you know that?” His voice is low. Gravelly.
I decide not to rise to the occasion.
“Thank you. But also: Excuse me?” I stop, tugging on his hand to make him face me. He does, his boots catching with a small sigh in the dirt.
“He makes you feel better?” Ryder continues. “Are you serious?”
Anger bubbles up at the back of my throat, along with a hefty dose of what the actual fuck?
Maybe that’s why I say something stupid. “Yes, really.”
“A brat and a liar.”
“Hey. Call me anything you want except a liar.”
Only, he’s right.
He’s right to call me out. He doesn’t put up with my bullshit, and I like that. I respect that.
I love that about him.
“Aim higher.” Ryder is back to grunting at me.
My heartbeat trips to a sudden, painful stop. “I tried. With you.”
Dead silence. The lack of noise is unnerving. It becomes a throbbing, living thing that fills my ears and chokes off my air supply as Ryder’s head falls back and he closes his eyes.
“I’m no better,” he says at last. “You know that.”
“But you are better. So much better.” The words burst from my mouth. “You’re generous, and brave, and funny and…Look, I know you think we rib on each other like old friends, or brother and sister, but I think there’s so much more there—”
“Stop.”
The pained sound of the word has everything inside me doing backflips.
In all the years I’ve known him, Ryder has only ever let his emotions get the better of him twice: a week ago during our picnic, and tonight. Right now.
Three times, actually, if you count our time in the ER together.
And all three times, he’s been with me.
Holy shit.
He opens his eyes, and they move to me, glittering in the darkness.
Yep. Those eyes are swimming with emotion. I see it. I feel it.
My heart starts working again, taking off at a thousand frantic beats per minute.
The tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife.
“I am not your brother.” Ryder’s Adam’s apple bobs on a swallow. “And yeah, Billie, there is so much more between us. You drive me batshit crazy. The way you move and how your eyes light up when you laugh and”—he runs a hand down his face—“Christ, that fucking shirt.”
I can’t move. “What about my shirt?”
“You know what that shirt does to a man. That’s why you wore it.”
My body goes up in flames. I am the bonfire now. I can almost feel the smoke rising off my skin.
Is Ryder actually admitting that he’s into me? That he was the one who lied?
Holy fucking shit, is he actually going to let something happen between us? Because he’s talking about my shirt, which means he’s thinking about my tits.
He might as well be touching them for the way my nipples immediately pebble. I’m wearing my flimsiest bra and a tissue-thin crop top, which means Ryder can see everything.
But he also talked about my smile and my laugh and—
His eyes flick to my chest. His mouth flattens to a tight line. But his eyes—
The emotion in them is suddenly edged with hunger.
I have been dying to reach for this man for years now. As long as I can remember. He’s giving me an opening, one I never in a million years thought I’d get. He’s right about one thing: I know better than to let this chance slip through my fingers.
“What if I did wear it on purpose?” My voice sounds strange. Breathy, quiet. “What if I wore it for you?”
His expression is stark now. Strained. “You happy now? Saying out loud how you’re putting me through hell?”
“Hell?” A let out a bark of disbelieving laughter. “You have no idea the hell I’ve been through wanting you the way I have. But then you tell me you just want to be friends even though you’re always here—”
“Because you asked me to be! You texted me, remember?” he explodes. “You’re the one who’s always showing up on my doorstep.”
“You’re the one who showed up just now without any prompting at all on my part! And you knew I was gonna be out at the Rattler tonight, didn’t you? That’s why you were out too, right? Right?”
His throat bobs again. “I’m not gonna lie to you, Billie.”
I scoff. “So do you wanna be just friends, Ry? Or do you wanna be more than that? Because I’m real fuckin’ confused, buddy.”
He puts his hands on his hips. That muscle in his jaw jumps again. After a beat, he rounds the truck and opens the passenger side door. “I told you not to call me that. Now get in the truck. That’s why I came: to make sure you got home safe.”
“I call bullshit.”
“Get. In. The fucking truck, Billie, or so help me—”
“What?” I step forward. “What’re you gonna do?”
He leans in, his face an inch from mine.
“You know and I know that you don’t wanna stay here with Zephyr.
If you did, you’d be with him right now.
So get in the truck, and I’ll drive you home.
Otherwise, you’re gonna be spending the night at some shitty bunkhouse with a bunch of assholes leering at you while that dickhead, Z whatever-his-name-is, tries to cop a feel. ”
God, why does this man have to always be right about everything? It’s infuriating.
“His name isn’t Zephyr. It’s Xander.” Sighing, I climb into the truck. “I hate you.”
“No you don’t.” Ryder shuts the door.
A beat later he’s climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the engine. I can feel its rumble through the vinyl seat. It stokes the growing throb between my legs in a way that makes me want to squirm.
“Hey!” Xander shouts as we pass him. Guess he’s done hiding now that he’s safe? “Where are y’all goin’?”
Ryder doesn’t answer, and neither do I.
Instead, I roll down my window and gather my hair in my hand at the top of my head. The breeze feels good on my overheated skin.
“But really, how’d you know where I was?” It’s the only thing I can think to say.
Well, other than, Can we please fuck already, for the love of Christ?
Truth is, though, I don’t think I could withstand the humiliation of being turned down a second time. If someone’s gonna make a move, it’s gotta be Ryder. I already put myself out there. It’s his turn to show his cards.
“Took a guess.” Ryder guides the truck onto the smooth blacktop of the recently repaved County Highway Number 5.
“Sawyer heard those toolbags talking about a field party, which left me with a few options. Figured the Horton’s was my best bet—those boys are always havin’ bonfires this time of year.
” He glances at me. “Still waitin’ on a thank-you. ”
“You’re not gonna get it because I didn’t ask you to come.”
“You’re glad I did, though.”
“C’mon, Ry.” I turn my head to look at him. “You know I like trouble. I’ve learned by now how to get myself out of it.”
He jams on the brakes. I jolt forward with a gasp, the seat belt biting through my shirt as Ryder pulls far enough off the road to offer us plenty of privacy beneath a starry, wide-open sky. The tires pop over the uneven dirt, and then we stop, Ryder shoving the truck into park.
I put a hand over my heart. “What the hell?”
“You want trouble?” His jaw tics.
His voice sounds different. Scraped bare, like he can barely breathe.
I’m aware of just how hard my nipples are now. The throb between my legs is unbearable.
“Always.” I swallow.
Panicked elation rips through me when Ryder reaches over to unbuckle my seat belt. I watch, feeling lightheaded, as he hooks a finger in my belt loop.
“Then get the fuck over here.”