Chapter 6 - Ryder
The ray of blinding sunlight that snuck through the gap in the shutters felt like a laser beam cutting directly into Ryder’s skull, mercilessly tearing him from restless dreams. With a sharp hiss, he buried his head deeper under the pillow to escape the pounding headache that seemed to reverberate throughout his entire body. His mind was hazy, filled with cotton wool, and every muscle in his body ached. How much had he drunk last night? Everything felt vague and fuzzy, his memories clouded over by alcohol and exhaustion.
He was vaguely aware that there was someone next to him. That wasn't exactly unusual—hardly his first time waking up with a beautiful stranger in his bed—but the sensation was accompanied by something unfamiliar. A faint image flashed briefly through his thoughts, turning the blood in his veins to ice. Oh, no. He couldn't have, surely. He wouldn't have. A sudden sense of dread gripped him, tightening his lungs. Slowly, he peered out from underneath the pillow to assess the situation.
Sure enough, the sight that greeted him was that of long, auburn locks covering a petite frame of bare porcelain skin. Facing away from him was Elena, the blanket resting halfway down her back, exposing her upper half to his gaze. The curve of her hip and slope of her back brought flashes of memory flooding back, the scent of lavender and honeydew invading his nose. Suddenly, last night crashed over him in crystal-clear resolution.
Every detail, every moan and whimper and gasp of pleasure, returned to him with aching clarity. Amidst the rush of adrenaline and alcohol, the wolf's instincts had kicked in full force, overcoming his usual ability to control them. In his mind, he saw her moaning and writhing against him as he held her up against the wall and thrust into her over and over again. The taste of her lips lingered in his mouth, and the sound of her screaming his name in ecstasy echoed through his being. Her long legs wrapped around his waist felt like heaven. In that haze of lust and intoxication, she had given herself to him fully and without reserve, and he had claimed her in every way he could think of.
And now here she was, in his bed, naked and asleep next to him. The thing he craved more than anything, on a primal, visceral level, and the absolute last thing he ever should have let happen. What had he done? He was never this careless. All the stress of his most recent mission, combined with these vicious attacks plaguing Bellefleur over the last few days, must be getting to him. This was a disaster. Tolliver would absolutely eviscerate him if he ever found out.
Okay. Figure it out first, panic later. What was he supposed to do now? He glanced over at the window, and for a brief moment, he sincerely considered climbing out the second-floor window and bolting into the woods, never to return. He could leave town and run away to join another pack somewhere. Vanish without a trace. That seemed preferable to facing his best friend's wrath over messing with his precious baby sister.
Or maybe it wouldn't be that bad, he tried to convince himself as he slowly and quietly inched to the edge of the mattress, moving cautiously in hopes he wouldn't wake her up. Maybe Elena would wake up, be horrified by this obvious lapse in judgment, and they'd agree never to mention it again before she bolted out the door. His wolf bristled at the prospect, recoiling instinctively at the idea that his mate wouldn't want to be here, but now, the conscious, rational, sober, and painfully hungover Ryder was back in charge. The wolf would just have to deal with it.
Running his hands through his shaggy hair, he managed to quietly step over the wooden floorboards without making a sound until he reached his wardrobe, where he fished out a pair of boxers to slip on. His senses were on high alert as if he were on an infiltration mission, keeping careful note of whether the sleeping girl stirred. No sound or movement yet. He made his way into the adjoining living room and stepped into the small kitchen from there, pulling an ice pack and a bottle of water out of his fridge. Now that he was safely out of hearing range, he allowed himself a long, agonized groan. This was bad. Really, really bad.
The cold water soothed his throat and alleviated the worst of the pounding in his skull. He held the bag of ice to his head for a moment, staring helplessly up at the ceiling while his mind churred in a desperate attempt to figure out how to resolve this situation. Emotional stuff made him uncomfortable enough without a hangover-induced fog rolling over his ability to think rationally. This was not the sort of thing he was designed for. Dangerous covert missions with constant pressure and disaster looming if he made a single wrong move? Piece of cake, a walk in the park, the easiest thing in the world. Navigating complex interpersonal relationships? The mere thought nauseated him.
No progress had been made by the time a soft, groggy groan carried from the other room. It was followed by the telltale creaking of bedsprings and soft padding across the floorboard. Involuntarily, his pulse started to quicken, every nerve ending on high alert in anticipation of her appearance. He kept his back turned, busying himself with the coffee machine and taking more sips of the icy cool liquid to keep his hands occupied. The footsteps gradually grew louder, approaching him across the wood tiles, and then, with excruciatingly slow hesitation, came to a halt.
He should have just gone with the plan to skip town.
“Good morning,” said the sleepy, musical voice behind him, sounding entirely too sunny for the amount of hard liquor they'd poured down their throats the previous night.
Slowly, Ryder turned around, doing his best to appear nonchalant as he leaned back against the counter and fixed a cocky, lopsided grin on his face. Before him, Elena stood in the dress she'd worn last night, smiling up at him with emerald eyes that sparkled brightly with unabashed glee. Her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink, and her fiery hair tumbled freely around her face in wavy locks, messy and adorable and thoroughly debauched. Her lips curved into the sweetest, happiest, most dazzlingly bright smile he'd ever seen in his life, lighting up her whole being from within.
That smile gutted him. Imagine waking up to that every day. Somehow, it was much worse than if she'd been mortified and disgusted with herself. White-hot guilt and self-loathing coursed through his veins at the sight of her looking at him like he was the answer to everything. For years, he had been actively pushing her away, and that had been miserable enough for both of them. Now, he was going to have to do it all over again, only exponentially worse because he had to be the reason that smile fell from her face. He could practically hear his wolf howling in mourning.
It had to be done, though—no use lingering on it. Too much hinged on him being able to keep a clear head, and he couldn’t do that if he let her get any closer.
“Elena,” he said as casually as possible, sounding almost bored. “Well, this is awkward, huh?”
Her smile faltered ever-so-slightly, her brow furrowing at the obvious lack of enthusiasm. Clearly, she'd expected a very different reception from him. She tilted her head curiously and looked up at him with wide, questioning green eyes, then said, “Why? I thought last night was...”
“A huge mistake?” he finished for her, raising his eyebrows pointedly and sounding entirely too snarky even to his own ears. “Because it was. We were drunk. Bad decisions were made. End of story.” He shrugged, attempting to feign indifference.
At this, Elena's expression instantly transformed, all traces of cheer vanishing. The glow she wore only seconds before evaporated completely, replaced with surprise and embarrassment. Her cheeks reddened deeply, her eyes darting around frantically as her brain scrambled for a suitable response. Meanwhile, Ryder felt like absolute garbage.
“Look, kid,” he continued when she said nothing, sighing deeply and handing her a glass of water. “We drank too much, got carried away, and it never should have happened. Let's not turn it into a whole thing, all right? We can just forget about it and move on with our lives.”
She looked back up at him, her jaw clenching slightly as she straightened her spine and lifted her chin. Her lips pursed together, and fiery indignation shone in her eyes. “Excuse me?” she finally answered incredulously. “Are you serious right now? Wow. I knew you were an arrogant jerk, but I didn't think you'd be this much of an asshole. You're seriously going to treat me like I'm a disposable one-night stand you can toss aside?”
“Elena,” he began, gripping the bottle tightly to keep himself focused and in check, “come on. This was a terrible decision on both our parts. Seriously, what were you expecting to happen here? Tolliver would have both our hides if he knew we'd hooked up, and anyway, nothing has changed since yesterday. Nothing. All right? So don't go making it more complicated than it needs to be. This never happened, and we’ll never speak of it again.”
The words felt like acid as they left his mouth. They hit their mark, though, evident in the way Elena winced. She quickly recovered, scowling up at him angrily and glaring daggers in his direction. It took every ounce of his strength not to take the words back immediately. His every instinct screamed at him to sweep her up in his arms and beg forgiveness for hurting her.
In the end, that would only cause more pain. The life he lived was dangerous and unpredictable, and now that Asher might be in the picture, he was less willing than ever to get involved with anyone. Even without the Tolliver of it all—and that was a major, massive complication—the best thing for her would always be to stay far away from him, and the best thing for him was to remain unattached. Let her live a simple, uncomplicated life. Better to hurt a little now than suffer far worse down the line.
“You are literally the biggest asshole I've ever met!” Elena spat back, venom coating her words as she threw up her arms. “Fine. Screw you too, then. I can't believe I ever thought you might be remotely decent.”
She whipped around and stomped toward the front door, yanking it open and slamming it behind her on her way out. Her footsteps echoed through the hallway outside like gunshots, angry curses floating through the air as her heavy footfalls thundered down the staircase leading to his apartment. Ryder stood silently, clenching his teeth and breathing heavily, trying to block out the raging storm swirling within him. This was for the best. She couldn't get caught up in this web.
That didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell.