Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Rummy!” Noah yells, shifting the entire kitchen table as he slaps his palm over the card Ryker just tossed out.
Clutching the book I’ve been pretending to read, I eye Dad’s closed bedroom door from my spot on the couch and pray he has earplugs in. If he doesn’t, there’s no way he’s sleeping through Noah’s antics and we’re seconds away from getting a lecture.
“My guy,” Noah sighs, mock disappointment heavy in his tone. “You really suck at this. What’s going on in that big, handsome head of yours?”
Ryker’s eyes flash to mine from across the room. “Guess I’m just distracted.”
“Birthday boy blues?” Jenny coos, her sparkly crop top dipping almost low enough for a nip slip as another waft of her cotton candy perfume accosts my senses.
My ears perk up, stomach plummeting to the floor. I knew Ryker’s birthday was coming up, but I’ve been in such a slump over Old Man Dan I didn’t realize it was today .
Jenny leans forward, like she’s trying to catch Ryker’s eye with her cleavage. “We could fix that with some birthday shots?”
Ryker taps his cowboy boot-shaped lighter against the table. “I’ll pass.”
“Oh, come on,” she pouts, bouncing in her seat like a petulant child. “The whole reason we’re celebrating your birthday a day early is so you have time to recover before you start your training. Do a shot with us, please ?”
Even through my scowl, my shoulders relax a little. At least I didn’t miss his actual birthday.
Ryker lets loose an exasperated sigh. “I already told you, no. I’m going to visit my sister tomorrow, and I can’t be hungover.”
I bite my lip, covering my face with the book to hide my smile from Isabel, who I can feel staring at me from the other end of the couch.
Since Ryker got back from Denton, Noah has filled each and every hour of his day dragging him around to visit friends and hit up old fishing spots. Which means that although Ryker’s snuck into my bed as soon as everyone is asleep, we haven’t actually talked. So it’s hard to tell if he’s shutting Jenny down or just pissed off in general.
Even though I’m leaving soon and have no right to claim ownership of his attention, the vindictive part of me likes to imagine it’s the first option. To her credit, Jenny takes the whole thing in stride.
“Fine, the rest of us will drink double on your behalf.” She turns away from him to face her cousin. “Marco, what’s our poison tonight? Please don’t say whiskey.”
“Wait,” Noah interjects, right eyebrow arched. “Why not?”
“Because,” Jenny drawls, “whiskey and Castillos don’t mix. Marco gets slutty, Isabel gets emotional, and I suddenly think I’m the world’s best dancer.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Noah shouts, slapping his knee and nearly upending the table as he rises to his feet. “Looks like we’re drinking whiskey tonight!”
After rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, he returns with an amber bottle of booze and shot glasses. Jenny throws her head back and groans while Marco smiles, unfazed by the chaoticians around him.
Normally, I’d be worried about my brother pouring his first drink before five when he’s going to be boozing all night, but we’re not exactly on good enough terms for me to say anything. I’m also struggling to think about anything other than how painfully obvious it is that Jenny isn’t wearing a bra and how good she looks in those expensive, barely there clothes while I’m covered head to toe like a damn nun.
I jump as the book is ripped from my hands to reveal Isabel staring daggers at me. “What crawled up your butt and died today?” she asks, tossing the book onto the table.
It’s her property to do with as she pleases, but I still cringe at the new dent on the spine… Damn. I was going to ask her if I can keep that one, too. I’ve really been enjoying the story about a traumatized female serial killer and the hot FBI guy assigned to bring her down.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I cross my arms over my chest, doing my best to sound nonchalant, but her quirked eyebrow tells me she’s not buying it.
“Jenny’s done messing around with Ryker. You can ease up on the death glares.” Isabel purses her lips and glances to the table.
“Sorry.” My cheeks heat, and her expression instantly softens.
“I wasn’t trying to pressure you into something you’re not ready for by adding ‘get laid’ to your bucket list, and Ryker doesn’t sound like a beginner-friendly type of guy anyway. The whole forbidden-fruit thing is hot, but maybe you should let it go?”
After quickly glancing around the room, I fight the urge to roll my eyes.
I don’t think anyone heard her, but with my brother pouring shots barely fifteen feet away, now isn’t the best time to continue this conversation. And it’s definitely not the time to tell her Ryker sure seemed “beginner-friendly” enough a few days ago with his face buried between my thighs.
I quash down the smile threatening to spread over my lips .
“It’s not about the list,” I assure her—and I mean it.
For so long, the relationships in my life have felt transactional. However irrational it might seem, I think I’ve had this idea in my head that if I didn’t make myself absolutely essential to someone—like I have to Dad and Noah and even the Crowes—they would discard me the same way my mother did and I’d end up alone.
At the end of the day, my family might depend on me to keep their lives in order, but do they actually want me around? With Ryker… I don’t have anything to offer him, yet he still wants to give without requiring something in return. Spending the last few nights in my bed without a hint of anything physical happening between us has made that more than clear.
Whatever this thing is between us, it has nothing to do with my bucket list and everything to do with how I feel about myself when he’s around. I like being close to him. I like the comfort of his quiet warmth. And most of all, I like the way the chaos in my head settles when we touch.
“Then what’s going on?” Isabel asks. “I came over because I need to talk to you, but you’ve barely looked at me. Are you having second thoughts about leaving Deadwood?”
The question is a bucket of ice over my head. “Of course not,” I assure her. “I just have a lot going on right now.”
“Like what?”
“Well, for starters, my dad’s still hiding something from me. My brother’s being an absolute dick. I haven’t told either of them I’m moving to Austin. And there’s also what happened to Old Man Dan?—”
“That’s not an excuse,” she says, the bite in her tone accosting me like a slap. “We all have a lot going on right now.”
Okay, ouch . But I guess she’s not wrong. She was the one struggling the last time we hung out, and I haven’t even asked her about it…
“Sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to get all in my head. What is it you wanted to talk about? ”
She quickly glances at her brother and lowers her voice. “I met Kane. You were right, he’s not creepy at all.”
Her declaration is so unexpected, I can’t find the words to respond. Turns out, I don’t need to because the faraway, glazed-over look in her eyes has me questioning if she still remembers I’m here in the first place.
“There’s just something about him,” she says dreamily. “He knows exactly who he is and what he wants out of life. His way of viewing the world… It really makes you wonder what we’ve been brainwashed into prioritizing. He’s kind of incredible.”
My muscles tense. That sounds eerily similar to what she said on the way to Benny’s the other day…
“And Willa, you should hear the things he says about you.”
My stomach churns and I shift away from her. “What does he say about me?” I have a brief flash of Noah saying something similar a few weeks back, but Kane talking to people outside of my direct family about me is even more off-putting.
Isabel’s olive cheeks flush pink as she reaches out to brush a white strand of hair away from my shoulder. “I wouldn’t do his words justice. You’re so much stronger than anyone gives you credit for. If you are having second thoughts about leaving Deadwood…maybe it’s a sign?”
“Isabel, I already told you I wasn’t. What are you?—”
A sharp peal of laughter rings out from the dining room, and Isabel looks away, smiling sadly to herself. “We can talk about this another time, okay?”
“Sure?” I lean away, following the direction of her gaze to where Jenny is attempting to throw popcorn into my brother’s mouth. Despite the copious amounts of kernels littering the floor marking his previous failures, he keeps backing farther away to try again until he finally catches one.
“Did you decide what you want to do tonight, Ryker?” he asks, chomping on his victory. “I already invited a few people over. I was thinking we’d have a pregame party here and then hit up a bar closer to midnight. But are there any games you want to play or anything else you had in mind?”
My stomach sinks. Guess I’m not invited to the second part of the evening.
Ryker spins his lighter between his finger and thumb and then taps it against the table.
“I’d rather not have people over.” Tap. Spin. Tap. Spin. Tap . His eyes flash to mine. “We could go to Honky Tonk and play darts?”
My ears perk back up. Honky Tonk Junction is an eighteen and up bar. Excitement bubbles in my chest, threatening to force its way out as a high-pitched squeal.
But then Noah snorts. “You’re fucking kidding, right? You know I’m banned. Wait, why don’t you want to have people over?”
A muscle in Ryker’s jaw ticks as he shifts in his seat. “Because I’m visiting Charlie tomorrow and it doesn’t feel right to trash the place knowing Willa will have to clean it up on her own. She does enough around here without adding a stupid fucking party for me to her list of burdens.”
Tucking his chin into his chest, Noah furrows his brow like he doesn’t see the connection. “Willa doesn’t care. She likes doing that stuff.”
Ryker slams the lighter onto the table. “I care, and no , she doesn’t.”
The air turns heavy.
“Then I’ll help clean—” Noah starts, but Ryker doesn’t let him finish.
“We both know you won’t.”
A thick silence falls over the room, pressing down on my lungs as I hold my breath.
Out of the corner of my eye, Jenny and Marco shoot a glance in my direction, but my heart is too fluttery for me to care. Not only did Ryker stand up for me, but with the same sentence he also called out Noah—the way I’ve been dying to for years.
The two of them stare at each other without blinking until Marco rises from the table, gently tossing an arm across my brother’s tense shoulders.
“We could have the party at my place?” he suggests, tone light. “I don’t mind doing the prep or clean up.”
Noah glances up at Marco for a millisecond, but it’s enough for me to catch a glimpse of something I’ve never seen in his expression before—something soft and almost peaceful.
Ryker nods once. “That would be awesome, thank you.”
“Fine,” Noah grumbles, but his attention is on me, a clear warning in the depths of his blue eyes.