If there even is anus.
And now, Ryan is just sitting there, watching me. Waiting.
I flex my fingers, tension creeping in, but I stay quiet.
Ryan leans back in his chair, laughing as he shakes his head.
"You know, when you first got here? Riley would blow up my phone. Calls, texts—you name it. Holy cow, Colton, you got under her skin."
He folds his hands behind his head now, still grinning, settling deeper into the chair.
"At first, it was just her venting—long rants about how you never listened, how you were impossible, how she was gonna lose her mind dealing with you. But then..."
Ryan pauses for a second, eyes narrowing slightly, like he’s piecing something together. Then the grin returns.
"I knew things were changing when she stopped texting me so much. And when we did talk? Instead of complaining, she actually started telling me she could see you were trying. Heck, at one point, she even asked me to back off."
He lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "That was when I knew—you weren’t just another problem for her to handle anymore."
I exhale, shaking my head before a short laugh escapes.
"Not for nothing, Ryan—your sister is fiery."
I lean back in the chair, rubbing a hand over my face.
"I swear, I was more scared of her than that psycho coach we had in college."
Ryan lets out a laugh.
"Oh, come on—Coach Marshall? The guy used to throw water bottles at the wall when he got pissed!"
I grin, sitting up a little, pointing at him.
"Oh man, remember that? Riley doesn’t even flinch if I push her buttons. Marshall yelled? You ducked. Riley gets mad? You feel it in your soul. That woman is terrifying."
We both crack up, the tension in the room shifting, easing up.
Ryan leans forward now, resting his elbows on the armrests again, his hands loosely clasped together. His laughter fades, but the amusement lingers in his expression as he studies me.
"But she was effective."
I leaned forward, forearms on my knees, stalling.
"Yeah… she was."
I looked down for a beat.
“I started realizing she wasn’t mad at me… it was more about the way I kept getting in my own way."
Ryan lets out a short chuckle, shaking his head. "Well. You were."
I lean back, stretching my legs out in front of me, tapping my heel lightly against the floor.
"But I’ll tell you this—she had good instincts."
Ryan doesn’t move.
"I think she started realizing I didn’t need someone telling me to change. I just needed someone to show me how."
