Chapter 13 #2
Ryan does me the massive disservice of sneaking up behind me. I guess my back is to the door. But when he comes around the table and drops into the seat next to me, sandwiched between me and Cora, he doesn’t so much as glance in my direction.
He looks extremely casual. Henley, backward cap, smug grin. Like he didn’t kiss me senseless with my brother right next door less than twenty-four hours ago.
“What’s up, guys?” he says.
“’Sup,” Jay replies with the briefest acknowledgment.
Bennett returns, sliding menus across the table. I head to the bar to grab drinks. It’s so packed in here, I know I’ll get served faster if I ask Ernie, the bartender, to just sneak me in rather than wait for our table ticket to come up.
I’m halfway through waving Ernie down when Iris slides in next to me, resting her chin on her hand.
“Give me updates,” Iris says, so demanding it’s almost funny.
I wave Ernie down and rattle off the drink order. Three pitchers: one cider, one beer, one Coke. Then I turn to my friend. She’s still batting her lashes at me like I’m holding out a state secret. I can’t help but smile.
“What do you want to know?”
“How is it working with Ryan?” she asks. “I never figured you guys would be more than nemeses, but it seems like with the show and all, you’re going to have to get close.”
I roll my eyes. “You need hobbies. Knitting. Bike riding. Soccer.”
“You’re my hobby,” she says, deadpan. “You’re glowing, so I want to know what you’ve been doing that gives you that look.”
“I got new clothes.” I point down to my shirt as a way of dodging her question.
She gives me a once-over and smirks. “That crop top looks amazing on you, by the way. I’ve never seen you wear anything like it.”
“Must be the lighting in here,” I say, brushing it off. “Seriously, there’s nothing to know. I’d tell you if there was. It’s just work, work, work.”
Ernie arrives with the pitchers. I gather them carefully as he slides a stack of plastic cups toward Iris. She pouts but grabs them anyway, cradling them like treasure.
Iris ends up squeezing between Cora and Bennett, which is a whole vibe of its own.
I set the pitchers down and pour myself a cup of cider. Ryan opts for the Coke, because of course, he does. He’s always been annoyingly responsible. Still, it surprises me that he hasn’t even looked at me since he sat down.
Until now.
“You still intense about trivia?” he asks, lifting his glass slightly.
“Yes,” I say, giving him a wicked grin. “Some people train for marathons. I train for this.”
He shakes his head. “Nerdy and competitive. It’s such a dangerous combination.”
My mouth goes a little dry. I meet his gaze and bite my lower lip, slow and deliberate.
“You have no idea.”
I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure his ears turn a little pink. He smirks and looks away. But he doesn’t push it.
Ryan is staring at me. But it’s not like before. This time, it doesn’t feel like pity. It feels like he actually sees me.
And I kind of like it.
The first round starts: classic movie quotes. “You had me at hello.” “You’re gonna need a bigger boat.” “Here’s looking at you, kid.” “There’s no crying in baseball.” “I’ll have what she’s having.”
Jay’s always the strongest at this round, but Calla and I lean in, whispering answers to him as he scribbles them down. Iris completely forgets the rules and yells out “She doesn’t even go here!” before anyone can stop her.
“Iris! Don’t yell out the answers,” Calla whispers, shushing her.
Iris pouts and folds her arms.
Round two is geography. I am dead weight. Cora and Calla dominate. Correcting pronunciations, rattling off obscure capital cities like they’ve been training for this since birth. Bennett looks personally wounded every time Cora beats him to a buzzer.
“You memorize an atlas?” he grumbles.
Cora’s smile cuts like a knife. “I like being right.”
Round three starts with spider trivia. I blank on the first two questions. Biology is also not my thing. Hello, liberal arts degree. But then the host pivots.
“Who was turned into a spider after defeating the goddess Athena in a weaving contest?”
My hand shoots up. I lean toward Jay, starting to whisper, “Arach?—”
“Arachne,” Ryan says first.
I blink. “What?”
He shrugs. “What? I listen sometimes.”
I stare at him. He doesn’t smirk. Doesn’t tease. Just meets my eyes.
Calla notices. Of course, she does. Her eyebrows inch up just slightly, but she doesn’t say anything.
I tell myself I’m sitting here because it’s the open seat. Not because I want to be near him. Not because I want him to smell my perfume and remember touching me. But the truth is, I don’t know why I do anything around Ryan anymore.
“How do you know about Arachne?” I ask.
“Greek mythology’s the only thing you ever talk about,” Ryan says casually. “I remember that one because you told me that horrifying story about Athena turning her into a spider.”
My stomach flips. “You remember that?”
He nods. “It was dark.”
“You’re dark,” I shoot back, soft but automatic.
The rest of the round, we go back and forth like that. Less bite, more spark. Every time I toss something his way, he returns it lighter than I expect. He doesn’t call me Chirp. Doesn’t needle me at all. Just keeps shifting closer until our elbows are brushing at the table.
At one point, Jay gets up to hand in our answer sheet. Calla leans toward me.
“So,” she murmurs, flicking her eyes toward Ryan. “What’s happening there?”
“Nothing,” I say too quickly.
“Oh, you like him.”
“I do not.”
Jay returns and Calla sinks back into her seat, grinning like the damn Sphinx.
When the final tally comes in, we lose by two points. Jay frowns and pushes back from the table, muttering something before heading outside.
Calla sighs, grabbing their coats. “Drama,” she mutters, and follows him out.
Ryan lifts his glass toward me. I shake my head and lift mine in return.
We linger after the loss. Long enough for Iris to eat the rest of the fries. For Bennett and Cora to fall into a whispered, half-playful argument about whether malicious compliance is a legitimate workplace strategy. Whatever that means.
By nine thirty, Iris and Cora are getting ready to go, still laughing as they pull on their coats.
Iris points at me. “You better call me.”
“I will,” I say, nodding.
Cora flashes us both a brief smile. “Night, guys.”
I stand and grab my coat. The crowd has thinned. Bennett is long gone. Ryan follows me toward the front door, quiet.
Outside, the air is cold and clear. He holds the door without saying anything. We walk a few steps together, not looking at each other, but not walking away, either.
The gravel crunches under our feet. Behind us, the Tin Shed’s neon sign flickers.
Ryan stops first.
“You didn’t yell at me tonight,” he says.
That surprises me a little. But he’s right.
“You didn’t deserve it,” I say. “Even when you stole my favorite category.”
“You knew the answer,” he says. “You earned it.”
He snorts softly, then looks at me for a long beat. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Just because I’m competitive…”
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
I go still. “Oh.”
“Day before yesterday,” he says, voice low. “When I called your name… you flinched.”
I dig my toe into the gravel. I was trying to forget that. But now that he’s said it, I can’t avoid it.
He sticks his hands in his pockets, not pressuring me. Just… waiting.
I glance at him, trying to read his expression. But there’s nothing on his face. Just patience.
“I flinched because it felt like a joke,” I admit. “Like you were about to say something awful. I braced for it.”
“I wasn’t,” he says softly. “I mean it.”
“Maybe you didn’t mean to…” I trail off.
He reaches out, fingers brushing my arm, pulling me gently toward him. We’re not exactly embracing, but we’re close.
“I can be nice,” he says. “I try to be nice to other people. I could try with you.”
That makes me smile. “That would be okay.”
“You walking home?”
“Yeah. It’s only a few blocks.”
“Me too,” he says. “So… maybe we can walk together.”
He stares at me. I nod. “That would be good.”
God help me, this conversation sounds like two people who’ve never spoken English before.
I shove my hands into my coat pockets and walk beside him.
“You were good tonight,” he says.
“I’m always good.”
He snorts. “Yeah. You really are.”
It’s weirdly sincere, the way he says it.
I look up. He’s watching my mouth. That fact burns a hole straight through me.
So that’s what Ryan wants. He’s not the only one.
I reach out, touch his arm gently, and pull him to a stop.
“Wren,” he says, almost warning.
I shush him. “You know you want to.”
“I want to do a lot of things,” he murmurs, voice thick. “Dirty things. Stuff you wouldn’t be interested in.”
I lick my lips and step closer. “Who says I wouldn’t be?”
Thank God it’s dark and there’s no streetlight nearby, because I’m blushing like a maniac. His eyes widen.
“You…”
A horn blares.
Cora’s Mercedes rolls up. Iris leans out the passenger window. “Hey! You guys want a ride?”
I drop my hand and turn toward the car. “You go ahead,” Ryan says, stepping back. “I forgot something inside.”
He walks off fast. Like, faster than I’ve ever seen him move.
I turn toward the car, disappointment practically tattooed across my face. Iris sees it immediately and murmurs, “Well. Shit.”
I shoot her a glare and climb into the back seat, hands still shaking.
I don’t know what’s worse. That Ryan didn’t kiss me…
Or that I wanted him to so badly.
I’ve been called many things. Stubborn. A know-it-all. That weird girl who lives in my dorm , according to the irritating roommate I was paired with freshman year.
But reckless isn’t one of those things. Yet now, I am downright self-ruinous. And over what? A hot guy with dreamy blue eyes and a smile that won’t quit?
I have to get my head on straight or I’m doomed.