“What aboutyourmom?” he questions, narrowing his eyes, before correcting himself. “If I can ask.”
Cold air freezes my teeth, sighing as I stare into the cracking flames, glancing up when I swear I see Andrew in the distance. “She’s still with us, but she loved Jeremy. She doesn’t hate me, but she’s not the best mom material, to be blunt. So, Dolores sort of fills that.”
“Well, that’s shit... so where does Dolores work, then?” He leans back in his seat.
I can’t help but enjoy that he’s so curious. “She owns a greenhouse and a gardening club. All the gardening stuff with Dolores might be a good change in scenery if I need it.”
He nods. “You just want to get away from the gym for a bit. I get it.”
“I don’t think I can move on until I step away from it for a while,” I reply, finding that even our serious conversations flow with ease. “At least on the side. I am still here for the gym, but it just feels nice to have options, you know?”
“That’s why I took a break. I mean, I had a lot of shit happen at once, but I just needed to remove myself from it for a bit.”
I can’t stop running my gaze over him, taking in how broad his shoulders are, wanting his strong arms to hold me… I don’t want to end the conversation on my ramblings, so I add, “I’m glad your sister’s doing well. You’re an amazing brother for doing what you can for her.”
Ryder is adept at stoic expressions, concealing a majority of what briefly floods his eyes, although I note how his gaze softens before he looks back at the fire.
“Yeah, that changed me. Slowed me down. Took an edge off. Connor was with Sarah while she was in treatment, and I took care of Mollie. Connor’s sister took care of Frank—he’s about two now.”
I try to imagine what it’d be like to have nieces or nephews, or to see Ryder play with his. “I’d love to see you as Uncle Joey.”
He throws me a look… then grins. “Hey, I am still figuring the uncle shit out, but I love those turds. Mollie might be more like me than Sarah, which is crazy to see as she gets older. She’s a sneaky shit. Her heart is gold” —he chuckles, running his fingers over his chin— “but she loves to plot her little schemes. She’ll be smart.”
Tapping my fingers on the armrest, I reply, “I could see you as a sneaky kid.”
“Ohyeah,” he huffs, furrowing his brows. “I was a shithead, too, but that’s just foster homes for you. Mollie will do better than that. Hope she doesn’t bring me homework, though. I hate that shit. Especially if it’s math.”
I snort. “Were you the kid that would come asking me for help with your homework?”
I mentally note every small detail of his life, trying to piece him together with this new lease on his identity.
“Nah, I’d just straight up turn that shit in undone” —I laugh, and he pauses to grin before he adds— “Sarah was a straight-A student, though. She’d always wanted to become a pediatrician after one of ours took really good care of us as kids.”
“Did she get to do that?” I take another sip of beer, a slight buzz easing my anxieties.
“Sort of. She became a nurse, since med school was so expensive. She still gets to help, though, volunteering at a home for kids in need, and I go with her a lot.”
“She sounds incredibly strong.”
He smiles fondly. “Yeah, she’s been through some rough times... so, enough of the sad shit. Where’s this new house?”
Pulling out my phone, my heart and mind burst with pride that Ryder actually opened up to me. I show him the home on Zillow. I hand him my phone, and he takes it with a smirk. No matter what, this confirms that Idowant something like this withsomeone. The thought of having a home where another habitually visits fills a profoundly empty part of my heart.
We stare at each other after talking more, a lingering knowledge that once I have this house, we’ll have privacy. His eyes fall to my lips, dropping even further, his jaw tightening.
“Follow me for a second.” His voice is low and gruff.
“What?” I ask.
“I’ll show you.” He stands and drains his beer, throwing it into the fire.
I do the same and follow close. The smell of pizza and marijuana mixes in the air as we enter the home. He leads me to a different wing of the mansion, heading toward a bouncer that guards a hall.
“She’s with me,” Ryder instructs. “Anyone asks, I’m showing her to a bathroom that’s not covered in white powder or vomit.”
The abnormally tall and thick bald man nods at Ryder, carefully eyeing me as we pass him by.
“What are you planning?” I quietly ask, excited and yet concerned.
