Some man walks by, maybe the one named Billy from earlier, and says, "Damn,you'rethe one living there?"
I clench my hands together, my jaw sewn shut.
The stranger laughs. "Saw that coming a mile away, honestly. The city has had to repair that like three times in ten years, but they never really fixed anything. Don't know why you lived there."
"Man, leave me alone,” I say, staring at the ruins of the house.
"You don't need to get fucking lippy with me—"
Ryder slightly shifts so he faces the man, and I move my gaze to the concrete in front of me. The fighter bites out, "She said fuck off."
"Oh, tough guy?"
“Fuck off with that. There's cops right over there. Just go home," Ryder retorts.
Billy leaves, mumbling useless crap under his breath. It’s nice to have Ryder here, but I still can't look at him.
The fighter next to me delicately says, "You live in a difficult area."
"Cheap," I reply.
"Yeah, you really got a good deal." His tone quickly shifts as he adds, "Alright, look, didn't mean it like that. My bad. Still in gym mode, and I just didn't picture you living somewhere like this."
My embarrassment sinks me further into the ground. There’s hardly any dignity to lose anymore… except for maybe if my squelchy novel started playingagain. “It’s alright, Ryder. Just… I took Jeremy’s death really hard and didn’t care that this place wasn’t the best because I was worried about needing money.”
My nostrils flare, and I’m right back to that damn crying. I’m so confused. Why does Dad have to live so far away? This would besomuch easier if he was here to help me or give me a hug. He always has a way of making things feel better than they really are.
I still have to tell him.
I haven’t been able to bring myself to deliver this heaping pile of bad news to Dad, even though I ache for his love and support right now.
It’s as if I’m waiting for some good news to occur so I can soften the blow.
Placing my head in my hand once more, I cover my face as if it will somehow hide my misery.I frown as fat tears swell. Having shit luck with no friends or family makes me feel like I’m chained to a boulder that pulls me under.
I stiffen when a hand touches my back, but when I realize it’s Ryder, I relax and don’t fight it. “Sorry, all you do is see me cry. I swear when my life isn’t a shit-show, I am usually happier.”
“You need anything?” Ryder gently asks.
“Some wine, maybe ice cream, and might go to Dolores’s for a bit whenever I get my car back. Could use a hug. She seems like a hugger,” I say to myself.
That sounds like the best plan. I can entertain staying at Andrew’s, where I can collect myself for a night, then see if I can visit Dolores sometime tomorrow or whenever she is free next.
The next part shocks me as Ryder gives a gentle tug toward him, the heat of his body greeting my left side. Even though I can tell he is being considerate, there’s still an undeniable strength in his grip. “Fine. You getone. You’re really pathetic right now.”
I lean hard into him without thinking, needing the human contact. Plus, he is a thick, powerful fighter who gives me a false sense of security, like he will punch whatever shitty thing comes my way. There’s also a familiarity in him after working closely for the past few weeks.
I lean against his chest, breathing him in.
At some point, I accept how close I am to him, an arm wrapped around me as his outer chest warms my cheek, inundated in his soft clothes and heat. Then I catch the smell of his deodorant, and it’s one of those scented ones for men.
I let out an annoyed laugh.
“What?” he asks, his voice reverberating in his chest.
Screw it. My luck is crap, so it’s not like I’m ruining any chances I have. “I like your deodorant, and that’s such a weird thing to think right now,” I mumble, but don’t pull back.
It just feels good to be against his chest. Not even sexually, either, although that’s still a thing.
