Chapter 5
Five
Only here on the sparring mat did Tai ever feel weightless.
A lot of the time, he felt the opposite—when loneliness and shame teamed up, climbed onto his back and stayed there until they were good and ready to give him a break.
He never felt that way with Ryker, though.
Ryker knew the source of the weights that plagued him, and Ryker offered his friendship to relieve them both.
Tai couldn’t be lonely with a best friend beside him.
He couldn’t be ashamed when that best friend knew the worst of him and took offense at the very idea he might walk away from Tai because of it.
So on the mat, two things made Tai feel physically lighter: Ryker’s friendship and sparring itself.
Like right now.
Tai launched into the air from the center of the mat, and Ryker missed him entirely. He flipped in midair just because he could, and the freedom filled his lungs and burst out of him in a laugh.
With a hiss, Ryker came at him before his feet had touched the mat.
Tai ducked, dodged, landed a hit between Ryker’s shoulders, and realized too late Ryker had allowed the hit to bring him in closer.
The freight train of willpower and vampire power that was Ryker Maddox threw himself backward into Tai, and when Tai put one foot back to steady himself, Ryker spun and leaped and drove him all the way down to his back.
The familiar defiance rose up in Tai, and he writhed as hard as he could.
His attempt to throw Ryker off him almost never worked, but it had a few times, and those times were enough for Tai to continue the routine.
Today, with a mighty heave of his whole body, he dislodged his friend, and Ryker rolled to one side, onto his back.
He lay a few feet from Tai, turned his head to stare, then grin.
“That was amazing, man,” Ryker said.
“Thanks. Good match,” Tai said.
“Good match.”
They got up and gathered their things—socks, shoes, phones, wallets, keys. They’d been at this for a while, their second round with a slaking break in between.
Tai was sliding his foot into his second shoe when Ryker said, “Something’s pushing you today.”
“Nah,” Tai said, but his heart gave an extra beat at the thought of being found out.
“How many times have we sparred by now, Tai? A hundred?”
At least.
“So don’t tell me I don’t know the difference between a regular match and an angsty match.”
“I’m not angsty.”
“Come on, man. Whatever it is, talking it out is probably your best bet. If we need to strategize, we can.”
“Strategize what?”
Ryker pushed one hand through his hair, and all the sandy blond spikes stood straight up. If anything in this room was angsty, it was the distracted version of Ryker’s hair. “I’ll know what we’re strategizing as soon as you tell me what’s got you angsty today. See how this works?”
He did, actually. Despite the anxiety that sometimes piled on with loneliness and shame—look at him, so self-aware and able to identify all his struggles by name—Tai knew he could do nothing so awful that Ryker wouldn’t stay at his side and try to help.
If Ryker were ever going to end their friendship, he would’ve done it the day Tai confessed his secret.
“I’m a bloodfiend, Ryker.”
“Wow, man, that must really suck.”
Tai stared down at the floor for a moment, choosing. He could keep fighting it. Keep trying to put her out of his head. Or he could admit everything and see what Ryker thought. He looked up and met Ryker’s eyes.
“I thought I was over her.”
Ryker’s phone began to slide through his hand. He caught it just in time. He should have asked who Tai could possibly be talking about. Instead he said, “Claire.”
Tai ran a hand over his face. “How transparent am I?”
“Only thing that makes sense,” Ryker said. “Y’all were like oil and water at the bach party.”
“Shouldn’t that be a sign I am over her?”
“Um, no.” Ryker laughed. “Unresolved romantic tension, man. Come on, I’m pretty clueless about this stuff and I know that much.”
“Not clueless. Engaged.”
“Leslie’s different. Leslie and I have always been good, right, easy. We just work.”
If only Tai could say the same about him and Claire.
If only he could just say it to her, all of it.
That he cared. That he had for a long time.
That she set his blood to fizzing and sparking every time he saw her.
Instead she called him “nemesis” and accused him of every character flaw she could think of.
And he couldn’t set the record straight without telling her the truth, and the truth would just add one more flaw to her list. The worst flaw.
“You’re overthinking it,” Ryker said. “Just start from scratch. Find reasons to get to know her. And when the time’s right, you tell her about the bloodfiend thing.”
“No,” Tai said.
“Look, do you want to be with her? Is that what you’re trying to say to me?”
“I…I don’t know. I want the chance, I guess.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Tai shook his head, bounced in place with sudden irritated energy. “Because she’s fierce, Ryker. Fierce for her people. She’s smart, assertive, witty, principled, and absolutely gorgeous.”
Ryker’s face broke out in the most ridiculous grin of their entire friendship. His blue eyes sparked silver with delight and mischief. “Whoa. Dude. I had no idea.”
“Because I tried to get her out of my head. Because she can’t stand me.”
“How many times do I have to tell you this? Claire’s grudge isn’t based on reality. So you’ve got the solution, Tai. Just tell her the freaking truth already.”
He tried to imagine it. The words he would say. The look on her face.
And the weightlessness collapsed.
Tai dropped to a seated position on the mat, drew his knees to his chest, and hid his face.
For a moment, probably as startled by his movement as Tai was himself, Ryker went statue-still.
Then he dropped down to sit beside Tai. He put a hand on Tai’s shoulder and squeezed hard.
He didn’t say another word until, a few minutes later, Tai was able to lift his head.
“There’s no way she’d put up with it,” he said quietly.
“Why not?” Ryker said, keeping his hand firm on Tai’s shoulder.
“Because…because…”
“How many people know you’re a bloodfiend?”
“A few dozen, probably.”
Ryker’s grip tightened for a moment in protest. “I’m not talking about your family. They suck. Period.”
“You know the answer, Ryker.” Tai extended his legs, then crossed them. As they talked it out, the weight grew lighter, and the instinct to hide grew less.
“Unless you’ve told somebody else in the last few days.”
“Definitely not.”
“Okay, so I’ve known for a couple years, and I have zero problem ‘putting up with it.’ Leslie has known for a couple months, has zero problem. That’s a hundred-percent friendship success rate, man.”
“Claire’s different.”
“How so?”
Tai tried to think it through, find an explanation for his certainty. Was it based on anything real, or was it plain fear, piling onto the other burdens on his back? He tried processing out loud. Worked for Ryker. “Integrity is huge to Claire. Being a bloodfiend is the opposite of integrity.”
“That’s crap, Tai. And if you honestly don’t know by now how crap that is…I don’t know where to start.”
Tai pressed his fingers to his eyes. Talking about this depleted him like nothing else did, as if a funnel formed in his chest and drained his vitality away. “Sometimes I think I know.”
“That it’s crap?”
“Yeah. That it’s just stuff he said. And that it got stuck in my head, but…but it doesn’t have to stay there.”
“Okay, good. Keep reminding yourself when you go after the woman you want.”
Tai gave a broken laugh. “I’d do it if I thought I had any chance of changing her opinion.”
“Then do it,” Ryker said. “And trust me, Claire…” He shook his head.
“Claire what?”
“I know she’s still mad, but in case you missed it, being mad at you doesn’t mean she’s not into you.”
This time Tai’s laugh was full. “What are you basing this on? Your wishful thinking or Leslie’s or what?”
“I’m basing it on the way she watched you last week. Look, I don’t know if y’all are meant to be or not. Maybe you’re not. But you’re an idiot if you don’t at least try with a woman who looks at you like Claire does.”
“Like what?”
Ryker paused, pressed his lips together. Then he said, “Like she wishes she didn’t have to stay mad.”