Chapter Five
Present - Evelyn
DESPITE THE MANY years apart, I knew Ryder in an instant. Where his face was beautiful in boyhood, it transitioned into something sharp, manly and utterly devastating. The tattoos are new, along with a barrenness in his black eyes, which hadn’t been there before.
The thought of what put it there sends a shiver down my spine.
My brain went quiet, forgetting about the many eyes on me, the moment I felt his. I’d know his gaze anywhere, the only eyes that never judged my every move, but fed my flames. That part of me, the part of me that he raised, it’s as if she has never forgotten, standing ready to answer his call.
My thoughts weren’t on why I’m here, at the opening of Ziggy’s Kids, determined to pull off the perfect event for something I believe in. With one look, Ryder banished that and the constant pressure to prove that I don’t need to fit in to be powerful, the chip I’ve been carrying around on my shoulder since I was thrust into a world that didn’t believe I belonged.
All I could think about was the vacancy in Ryder’s eyes, what sort of things he was forced to do in order to survive since I saw him the last time. What sort of things did he choose to do? The boy I knew didn’t tread carefully between right and wrong, but there was good in him. So much good.
Today, I saw none of the softness which once was.
Searching for him is the only thing I have ever given up on. Though I’d never lost hope in finding him, it became clear that when I did, it wouldn’t be because of my research. Racking up countless hours on social media and Google, I had to put my faith in that invisible force that had brought us together once, that one day our paths would cross again.
Today is that day.
I’d feared the worst for him all these years, and I’d been right in doing so. Ryder wasn’t raised by someone who drives a minivan, returning to a house with a white picket fence after school. He’s covered in the invisible scars of fighting for his life, scraping and clawing his way into survival.
But I can’t find it in myself to care about who he’s had to become, what he’s had to do. Nothing will taint the memory of the boy I know is still inside somewhere. Ryder has taken half a step back into my life and I’m fairly certain that with a few more, everything else would cease to matter. Perhaps that’s what makes him so dangerous, knowing that blood could stain his hands, and I’d still crave their touch.
The thought sends a lick of fear down my spine. I’m at a different place in my life now, a place where perception is king—or in my case, queen.
Shaking my head, I force my thoughts back to the task at hand.
Marcy. Marcy needs me.
She’d been calling my name like a lost child.
We’ve been working our way toward this day the way I work toward anything: systematically and efficiently, with the help of my incredible staff, but especially Marcy, the dedicated COO of Elegant Events and as close to a friend as I’ve come. She was the only person who applied through a job listing I posted online, and the only one I needed.
“Oh, thank the Lord Himself. I’ve been looking for you everywhere…” Marcy’s light, yet concerned voice trails off. “What happened? Who do I need to punish?”
Marcy couldn’t punish a soul, but her big mouth threats always manage to bring a smile to my face. Grateful for the lifeline she unwittingly threw me, I reassure her. “Nobody needs punishing. So far, the opening has gone off without a hitch.”
Marcy’s confused silence lasts a few seconds longer than usual. “Then why are you hiding behind a line of porta-potties looking… windswept ?”
“Windswept?” My hands dart to my hair, but find nothing out of place. Although, I realize with a grimace that we are exactly where she says we are. Taking a giant step away from the smelly cubicles, I pull her closer, still in shock, and whisper. “Ryder…Ryder is, he’s…umm, here.”
“You mean the Ryder?” Marcy’s voice comes out louder and an octave higher than before.
“Shhhhhhhh!!!” I clamp my hand over her mouth. “Yes. That Ryder.”
Marcy knows exactly who and what Ryder is to me.
Is to me?
Was to me?
Fuck.
The lines of my past and present have converged, and they are blurry as hell.
After I’d begun to establish a name for myself, far away from any potential and financial influence from my parents, I’d asked Marcy for a favor. Her brother-in-law is a private investigator, and after failing to find Ryder with my own research, I was desperate, but desperation turned into despair when even he came back empty-handed.
“Why are you hiding!? Go talk to him!!”
“You needed me!!”
“Only so I could confirm that you were still breathing and that a missing person’s report wasn’t needed!”
“I wasn’t even gone for long!”
“It was like ten minutes! That’s a year in overachiever terms!”
“Stop whisper-scolding!!”
“You started it!” Marcy whisper-scolds again before sighing, letting her voice take on a typical volume. “You’ve been waiting for this day for so long…and I don’t mean the event. Go talk to him. You have to, babe. I’ve got all this.”
“But I don’t even know what I’d say. We’re both…so completely different now.” I lift my right shoulder in a self-conscious shrug. “What if everything is different?”
“You’ve spent your entire teenage and adult life looking for him.” Marcy touches my shoulder. “The Evie I know wouldn’t waste another moment. She would walk right up to him and tell him exactly how this is going to go.”
Groaning, I know she’s right.
“Where is he?” Marcy asks, looking around like she’ll find him hiding behind one of the blades of grass. Little does she know, Ryder is much too tall for that.
“Over there.”
Marcy peeks out from behind the porta-potty in the direction of my nod, where Ryder now stands, a safe distance away from the crowd looking at his phone. “Wow.”
My feet plant, brow arching. “What, wow! ?”
“Hey, hey, happily married woman over here.” Marcy raises her hands like she’s talking down an aggressive dog. “I’m just admiring your exquisite taste.”
I snort, not expecting that from her, an adorably conservative woman and dedicated church-goer. Although, I’d been expecting her support, even with the slightest of upturned noses at his unorthodox appearance. “Exquisite taste?”
Marcy pulls at the neckline of her baby pink cardigan that complements her light, strawberry blonde hair and porcelain skin. “Evie. The guy looks like a wet dream.”
“ Marcy !!!”
Marcy fans herself with the clipboard. “I know what you guys have goes way deeper than physical attributes, and I’m sure my knowledge about your bond barely scratches the surface compared to how deep it goes, but…you owe it to yourselves to get to know each other as adults.”
I slump, truly slump, and give myself a brutal, internal chiding. This would be so much easier had I not irrevocably complicated things before I left. My hand hovers over my chest, feeling the weight of that day in the shape of a necklace—
Marcy shoves me out from behind the porta-potty, directly into Ryder’s view.
Sending my most threatening glare at her, Marcy throws her hands over her face as if even she can’t believe herself, before running in the other direction. Plastering a smile on my face, right through the redness traveling across my cheeks, I dig deep.
Come on, Evie. You got this.
Lifting my chin, I close the distance between us.
Ryder studies my oversized vest sweater, striped with white and gray, layered over a yellow button-up and tucked into my high-waisted gray slacks, before making it all the way to my canary heels.
“Hey, again.” Ryder has never had it easy, but I know the last ten years have been harder than ever. Despite it all, his voice is still capable of softening, the way it only ever did for me, dousing my insecurities and igniting something else.
The corners of my mouth pull into a genuine smile. “Hey, back.”
“This is your event, isn’t it?”
“Well, not exactly mine . My company—Elegant Events—was hired by Brooke Anderson–”
“You put it together though, didn’t you?” Ryder gestures toward the decorations I’ve pored over for months. “Organized it? Planned it?”
I nod. An event so grand it would force the media to attend, to share something good for once.
“It’s no surprise that something this perfect came from you.”
My cheeks heat again, marked by his clever eyes. Unwilling to be on uneven footing, I pin him with a glare. “Guess I should’ve spent more time reviewing the guest list though.”
Ryder coughs, nearly a laugh but not quite. The tiniest fraction of coldness retreats from his eyes, the only confirmation I need that my Ryder is still in there, buried under whatever this fucked-up world has done to him. I say the only thing I can think of.
“Let’s get out of here.”
“I see that a decade has made you brave.” The teasing falls flat in tone, but amusement dances in his eyes. He’s trying. For me.
Smacking his arm the way I always did, my hand is met by layers of solid muscle and it lingers without my permission. “I was thinking of a public place for coffee . Get your mind out of the gutter.”
Ryder gives my hand a knowing look, one that should be banned. “If you know what I was thinking, then it means your mind went there, too.”
I snatch my hand away, crossing my arms. Taking a deep breath, I put on my I-Mean-Business face which always works. “Can you be civil?”
Ryder appears to genuinely think it over. “I’ll do my best.”
Fine. “I have to find someone first and let her know I’m leaving. Meet me at Starbucks? The closest one to here?”
“Sounds good.”
“Good.” I look at him for a moment, inconspicuously reaching down to pinch my thigh, just in case. I’ve been fooled too many times by dreams that were almost as convincing as this moment.
Ryder doesn’t miss a thing.
“It’s real, Eves.” He reaches up, mindlessly, tracing my nose the way he always did. As a girl, it gave me butterflies. As a woman, heat in a way that I’ve never known blasts through me.
This is real. He’s real.
After ten long years, I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.
· · ·
Ryder beat me to the Starbucks, already sitting at a table by the window with two coffees, one being a vanilla cream cold brew by the looks of it. Condensation drips down the sides of the venti cup, and I hope it’s not totally melted.
Finding Marcy and making sure everything was under control took longer than expected, not to mention finding a mirror to verify that I hadn’t sweated off my makeup. Thankfully, Charlotte Tilbury was doing her best today and it was spotless.
I smile, taking advantage of Ryder pretending that he didn’t feel me walk in.
Ryder’s facial features have always been striking, and with maturity his cheekbones are higher, jaw sharper, and lips heavier, despite his best efforts to thin them out with a grimace.
He isn’t what I would call handsome. That gives one the idea of someone classic or boy-next-door, something he couldn’t be further from. Adorned with piercings through his ears and tattoos spreading the entire expanse of his body, Ryder is undeniably fatal now.
Sliding into the chair, I waste no time before sliding the vanilla cream cold brew over, like the greedy coffee gremlin I am.
“The girly one was for me.”
I roll my eyes and take a long sip, letting the nerves die down. Being with Ryder has always come more naturally than breathing. I shouldn’t be overthinking this. So, I ask the question that I failed to ask too many times as a child. “What’s your last name?”
“My last name?”
“You never told me what it was.” We spent years together, every moment of every day that we could, and I never asked what his last name was. I guess when you’re a kid, it’s not something that occurs to you, sort of like the moment you realize that “Mom” isn’t actually your mom’s name.
“You first.”
I groan. “Ashbluff.”
One side of Ryder’s lips twitch. “ Ashbluff ?”
“I know. It’s a miserable and pretentious name, but after my parents adopted me, they helped me legally file the name change to Evelyn. I couldn’t reject the last name they wanted to give me.” I pause. “And yours?”
“Cassidy.”
Ryder Cassidy. That is…hot and completely unfair. “Are you kidding me?”
He frowns. “No.”
“Well, that’s just…wrong. You get a name like Ryder Cassidy, and I’m stuck with Evelyn Ashbluff?” I shake my head. “Although, it will have a nice ring to it when I’m running for the position of bingo in-charge at the local retirement home.”
Ryder coughs. “Come on, it’s not that bad.”
“You don’t have to lie to me. I’m the only person in my twenties getting frequent advertisements from AARP.”
Ryder’s eyes take on a dot of sparkle. “You are not.”
“No, I’m not,” I admit with a smile, because this right here is the brightest I’ve seen him all day.
We sit like that for a minute, consumed by the sense of right you can only find in being with your person. I’ve spent so many years feeling off center, as if the planet had gone crooked on its axis, and I’ve been suffering for it ever since.
But it wasn’t Earth that tilted, it was just my world that had shifted.
“I can’t believe we didn’t know each other’s last names.” Ryder shakes his head, the stupidity of it dawning on him the way it did me, when I had to sit in front of a private investigator and explain it.
“I know.” Curiosity gets the best of me, wondering how much of a difference it would have made knowing his last name, how all those nights of online searches and social media stalking might have been fruitful.
Unable to resist, I tap Ryder Cassidy into Google and curse myself for listening to nothing but Taylor Swift, as photos and photos of Ryder performing with a band called Immoral Support appear on the screen. A band I’ve never heard of, despite their growing fame, which is everywhere.
My insides melt before turning into something flammable as I zoom in on a photo of Ryder, clinging to the microphone stand like it’s the only thing keeping him from drifting away.
Holy shit . Zooming in on one of the most recent photos, I immediately recognize Brooke’s boyfriend—whom I met today—as the guitarist.
“Are you googling me right now?”
“No.” Snapping my eyes up, I lock my phone screen and shove it under my thigh, forced to save micro-analyzing every droplet of sweat on Ryder’s tattooed skin for later. “That would be rather rude.”
Ryder’s mouth softens into my favorite smile of his, the one I wasn’t sure I’d see again. Something shimmers inside of me, like recollection. He’s my muscle memory, that thing I can fall into seamlessly despite years of being out of practice, out of touch.
Although a large part of me knows that a tattooed, morally questionable man won’t be able to walk into the routine I’ve built, a smaller part still wonders what it’d be like…but that’s the thing, isn’t it? We’re not kids with nothing to lose anymore. I need to remember that, force myself to think with my brain, not with the heart that’s lived for over a decade on a golden chain around my neck.
Nevertheless, I owe it to the boy he was, who put my wellbeing before his own for so many years, to help him shed this obsidian exterior, to find that version of himself that he’s buried, and lead him back to the light. I won’t stop until I do.
After all, Evelyn Ashbluff can do anything.
Even keep her feelings in check along the way.
“So, you’re in a band?”
“No.” The smile vanishes as quickly as it came. “I stepped in temporarily to help a friend.”
“Brooke’s boyfriend?”
Ryder’s brow lifts. “You know him?”
“Not well. Marcy deals with the clients during the planning stage, but I met him and Brooke today.” Chills spread up my arms, imagining what Ryder’s singing voice has transformed into. “Connor must be some friend to convince you to sing on a stage. In front of people. People that are listening .”
Ryder shrugs. That’s all I’ll be getting on that subject, but I marvel at the invisible string, leading us back together. “After all this time, the first pro bono work my company takes on is for the girlfriend of your best friend.”
“Small world, I guess.”
He doesn’t really believe that, does he? It always felt quite large to me, impossible to conquer and too expansive to see every corner of it. And yet, it can never keep us apart.
“I looked for you.” My admission is quiet, but not weak.
Ryder tenses.
“Without a last name, I didn’t have much to go on. No ID. No job. No pay slips. No leases. No phone bills. Not even a trail to run cold. You were a ghost.” But I’d have felt it in my soul if he’d truly died. “You breathed, I was sure of it, I just didn’t know where.”
Something in his eyes shifts darker, and I can’t help but feel like a pebble dropped in an ocean, sinking down toward the endless black. With one question I could change the entire trajectory of our lives. My pulse quickens as I approach the precipice to the deep.
“Care to fill in the blanks for me?”