Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ryder
“ G o away, King, I’m not in the mood.”
My brother looks me up and down, frowning. It’s been a day since I parted ways with Elliot and when I say I’m not in the mood, I mean it.
“Well aren’t you the bundle of joy. How did the last board meeting go?”
King pushes past me and into my loft, looking about.
I sigh. “Fine. Jenson told me privately it’s in the bag.”
“Jenson said that?” He raises a brow.
“He didn’t use those words. But the family company is saved, so you lot can work out who won the bet. I lost the girl, and you’ll be getting your letter on your birthday.”
“That’s a few months away. I’m thinking of hiring someone to look into it, the jewels, I mean, find out what they can. Because I’m not really willing to jump through hoops.” He moves into the living room and helps himself to a drink from the bar. “It’s after five and it’s been a long fucking day.”
“It’s been a long fucking four weeks,” I mutter, rubbing my chest where this thing inside burns from the whole blow out with Elliot.
My brother leans against the bar. “You look like shit. What’s this about the girl?”
“Nothing. You lot can work that bet out amongst yourselves, too.”
My phone starts to ring and I pull it out and frown, but ignore the call. What I need is to get the fuck away from prying family. What I need is to make myself feel better. And the call…
“What happened, Ry? I’ve never seen you worked up over a woman before. Well, maybe that time on school vacation.”
“I was twelve.”
He smiles. “So?”
“I’m a fuck up, okay? And Elliot knows who and what I am and that means it would never work.”
Suddenly, King holds up a hand and sets down his glass. “Woah, back up there. You like to screw around, but you don’t hurt people. And what do you mean it would never work? Did Manhattan’s last great lover fall?”
“No.”
“That was a little quick, Ry.” Kingston comes up to me and gives my arm a hard squeeze. And by hard, it hurts. “You need to wake up, Ryder. And fast. If you have feelings for her, don’t hide behind what you do, or have done. Unless you’re still fucking about.”
“I haven’t since…since before all this started.”
“But,” he says, “you fucked her.”
“If this is your way of winning the secondary bet, asswipe, you—”
“I really don’t give a shit about what amounts to a few pennies. I actually care about you. Strange, I know. But you’re my little brother, and I’m stuck with you. Listen, if you like her, go see what happens. You never know until you try.”
My chest tightens and my throat is clogged. “Would you?”
“I’ve had actual relationships, Ry. I’m not in the market for one, but I’ve had them. And this isn’t about me. It’s about you.”
Yeah, it’s about me being a fucking fool over a damn woman. I swear that’s pity in his eyes.
“It’s done. And I’m good.”
“If you say so.” He checks his watch. “I have an appointment. But think about what I said.” King strides to the door and then stops. “Oh, be ready for the others. They’re really into this bet.”
That’s why I end up in Murray Hill. I really don’t need a repeat whatever the fuck that was from Hud and Mag. So I get the fuck out of dodge.
The place is nice, I guess. Bland. Tasteful. Something that will suit anyone because it doesn’t offend. And I almost go to text something about it to Elliot when I remember.
Remember she’s done with me.
Couldn’t even give me a chance to explain. Couldn’t even take into account I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Couldn’t forgive me for a mistake, something she saw clean through.
I suck in a breath and poke about and make a drink. I’m in the mood for tequila but there’s whiskey so I pour that straight up and swallow it down, relishing its sweet burn.
Elliot saw clean through it and came up with the wrong conclusion. And I…I didn’t push to get it right.
What was the point?
I am a fuck up. I’m going to fuck up.
My phone starts again and this time I send a text with this address.
Lacey Fox is hot as all get out and she’s been calling and texting me for days.
When she arrives, there are tear marks on her face, but even so, she’s perfect. Right down to the tight clothes that show me everything I’ve been missing. All that sweet, ripe flesh.
I don’t want it.
“Why did you change your mind, Ryder?” she asks.
I shrug. “You sounded upset in your message and there are only so many apologies I can take.”
I’m playing with fire. I know that. But as she accepts the drink I give her, the story unspools. How she was coerced into the story.
“Shit, Lacey. You caused me a world of problems.”
She looks down, and then up at me. “I didn’t lie about the marriage. We’re not together. It’s a publicity thing and when you looked at me I was gone. No one’s looked at me like that in a long time. Like they see me.”
All the things Elliot said about me come back. “I didn’t. Not in the way you want. But I saw someone I liked the look of. It’s water under the bridge.”
“I can release a statement about—”
“Lacey, whatever you do, promise you’ll leave my name out of it.”
I’m not na?ve. I know this could backfire. But this is in private.
“I’m just alone, you know.”
“Yeah.”
I’m not going to bond with her, that’s not smart and, well…neither is she. But she’s nice and she’s gorgeous and she can make a man forget his troubles.
“Can I use the bathroom?”
I point her in the direction, it’s hard to miss as the place is small.
Slowly, I sit on the sofa and lean back closing my eyes. What the fuck am I doing? I don’t really want to talk to her and I don’t know if anything can make me forget my trouble. This place doesn’t have enough whiskey for that.
Thing is, I wanted Elliot to tell me not to leave, to tell me she believed in me. Even if I hadn’t done anything to make her say that, wasn’t that something relationships had? Belief?
I go completely still. I want her to believe in me and want me enough.
Me. I’ve never in my life been unsure like I have been through all this. And it’s Elliot. It’s all her fault. She makes the ground shift beneath my feet. She unnerves and excites me and makes everything different.
And…she doesn’t think I’m good enough for her.
She’s right.
But if I’m being shut out of her life, punished, I might well do the crime. After all, Elliot believes all I want is to fuck women and there’s one here. One who’d be more than happy to fuck me again.
I open my eyes and pull my phone out of my pocket, unlocking it. There’s a text I set up to go out if I needed the SOS right at the beginning of all this and—
“Ryder.”
“Yeah?” I look up, and I press the key on the screen without thinking.
Oh. Holy fucking shit.
Lacey Fox is naked. And she’s waxed and buffed and spent even more money to make her perfection shine.
She sashays over to me and climbs on my lap and this is why Elliot doesn’t want me.
It comes with horrible clarity as I put my hands on her hips, dropping my phone.
Why the fuck would a woman like Elliot believe in me, want me when women do this? Some women, I amend. The kind of woman I usually screw about with. The ones who want sex and aren’t overly fussed with more, or if they are, don’t say it.
“Uh, Lacey?”
“Yes…?” She slides her fingers through my hair and rubs those gravity defying breasts against me.
“What are you doing?”
“That should be obvious.”
She goes in to kiss me and I lift her from me and put her down. I’m not even turned on. There’s a throw on the back of the sofa and I grab it, shaking it out and tucking it about her neck.
I feel like a complete idiot.
She’s hot, if given a helping hand from modern plastic surgery and fillers and all the rest of the shit out there. There’s no denying she’s fucking hot. And she’s willing. This is also a private location, designed for this kind of thing so no one else will know and…I’m not turned on.
All I can think about is Elliot.
I appreciate the female form that’s very naked next to me, but I don’t want that female. At all.
I blow out a long breath. “I think you got the wrong idea.”
“No, Ryder Sinclair asked me over. I know what that means.”
I rub my eyes. “You kept calling. And texting. You wanted to talk. You sounded upset. I thought… I thought maybe you needed a space to breathe, and I thought if you wanted to talk to me you could.”
“I’m here and I’m not in the mood to talk,” she says her words practically a purr.
“Thing is, I’m not in the mood for getting down and dirty. There’s someone else.”
The moment those words appear, I know it’s true and what they mean. It’s not just I like Elliot. I have actual deep feelings for her. And I’ve been an ass.
A scared little boy hiding behind his reputation.
Lacey walks her fingers up my arm. “We forgive each other, right? I used you to push the fame of me and my fake husband. And it worked. I feel bad, and you used me for sex.”
“I’m pretty sure we used each other for sex and I didn’t sign up to be fodder.”
“You have me now. I’m very adventurous, you know that.”
“Yeah, but the thing is, I don’t want you. I want her.”
“So? Pretend I’m her. I really don’t care. I just want to feel and feel wanted.”
She leans over and tries to kiss me again and I’m pushing her away when someone clears their throat.
Elliot.
I know that disapproving sound anywhere.
“I think,” Elliot says, “you should go.”
“Her?” Lacey frowns. “It’s her, isn’t it? You love her.”
“I don’t do love.”
The words come, empty, automatic, and Elliot says, “He doesn’t. I work for him.”
Lacey gets up and goes back to the bathroom and gets dressed. She’s about to leave when Elliot stops her. “One word of you being here and I’ll destroy your career. Any career. You’ll be flipping burgers and poor when I’m done with you. So this is between the three of us.” She pulls a card from her bag. “My lawyer. There’ll be an NDA waiting for you by nine a.m. tomorrow. If you don’t call tonight, and don’t turn up and sign tomorrow, I’ll start thinking you like smelling like fast food grease, the kind in the middle of nowhere pit stop grease.”
Lacey runs like she just spoke to an evil demon and I’m thinking she might be right.
I don’t think I’ve been impressed by anyone like I am now.
“How long were you there?”
“Long enough,” Elliot says.
I start to smile.
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
The hope that started dies and I get it. We’re really done. No trial. Just the sentence. And it’s what I deserve for being a grade A asshole.
“You text me to come and save you?” She’s jabbing her finger at me. “Why would you do that?”
“You tell me.”
“No,” she says, suddenly quietly, “you tell me. You had a reason.”
“Because I can’t change and I need you to keep me out of trouble?” She doesn’t answer. “You know that.”
“No, Ryder, I don’t. I was in the neighborhood, so I was there a long time.”
“And you thought I’d do it, didn’t you?” I’m furious at the world, at myself, at her for being right. “You think I can’t change and that’s why you don’t want me.”
“You’re being a child.”
“I know.” And I am and everything is hurting inside me. I’m so fucking screwed up over Elliot.
Every time I open my mouth the wrong things come out. The more I try and fix things the worse I make them. And I had a naked woman trying to hump me and she’s not mad.
“Why aren’t you angry?”
“I’m fucking furious, Ryder. Do not mistake how I am right now. I’m ready to burn things down.”
“Because you think I can’t change.”
“No. Because you’re an idiot. Worse, you’re a self-destructive coward who hides behind his stupid reputation instead of trusting himself and me. You’re a moron for inviting her over. What did you think she’d do? Have tea?”
“And if I can’t change?”
“You can, if you want, Ryder. It’s up to you.”
“And you, Elliot? Do I get you?”
She walks up to me. “You don’t deserve me, Ryder. I’ve helped you, given you all the tools you need. Or I should say, helped you find them and what do you do? Sabotage. You can be the man you are inside, but that depends on which one you think you are. The biggest man whore on the planet who’s charming and funny, and ruthless and smart; or a man who is all those things without the need to nail anything that moves. It’s up to you. But you need to do that. Not me. I’m not your crutch. I don’t want to be.”
I cross my arms. “So you’d be fine if I had a plethora of hot chicks panting for me?”
“Do what you want.” She stops, blinking hard. “Would it matter if I wasn’t okay with that?”
I don’t answer because she’s just unpacked a world at my feet.
“It’s your life, your hands, Ryder. Goodbye.”
Elliot turns and leaves and I don’t go after her.
I’ve just been hit hard by what she’s been saying. More by what I am. Beyond a coward who wanted her to hold my hand and make things easy.
That’s not her job. I get that now.
It’s my job to fight. And hard.
Because what just hit me is this: I didn’t need her to save me from Lacey. I didn’t want Lacey. I just wanted to see if Elliot would come. And she did. Because that’s her. Elliot is more than I’m worth. She’s way better than me. She shines.
And she’s the one.
She’s why I’m not interested in fucking anyone else.
She’s why I realize I’ll never be interested in fucking anyone else.
Every time I see another woman, it’s Elliot I compare her to. Elliot I think about.
Fuck me.
I’m in love with her.
And I fucked it up by not even trying to fight. I’ve had it easy for so long, I fought myself rather than fight for her.
I wouldn’t want me, either.
But I’m a selfish son of a good and devious woman.
I need to see Elliot. Now.
Heading out the door, I call, but it’s straight to voicemail.
In my taxi to her offices, I still have voicemail. So I call the damn office.
Lena answers.
“I need you to put me through to Elliot. It’s Ryder.”
“Oh,” she says. “She’s gone. Left town.”
I royally fucked up.