As the streetlights pass over and through the glass of the Uber, I try to let my mind and heart rest with no real thought or emotion.
A mental fog hazes my senses as I get out of the car, making the slow ascent up to my room in the elevator, staring at the numbers while they change until they reach my floor. I decide to put on a hoodie, rather than my leather jacket. I want to be comfortable as I do this massage.
It’s all a blur as I next find myself outside Andrew’s door, the head coach down at the bar as he chats with more people.
I hear his imaginary argument loud and clear in my head—“I’m the one making this all come together, and you’re just fucking the dude you’re supposed to be helping. You’re the damn gym owner, as you like to say. And you’re fucking your champion?”
It’s so hard to focus.
Once Ryder appears and lets me in the room, he sighs through his nose, clearly deep in thought.
“You good?” I ask, staring at their bags once inside their room.
No matter what, I’ll still face this head-on. I don’t regret Ryder, but I’m so used to things going wrong that I’m preparing for the worst. Even if it’s him backing out.
He looks annoyed in a way I haven’t seen him before. It’s nothing dangerous, but he’s clearly miffed. “She wants something I’m not giving her, and she says I have a week to do it, or she’s texting Andrew. It’s not proof of anything, but the dude is going to be watching us like hawks to the point where he’ll know. I don’t know. I don’t know what you want to do with Andrew.”
My heart hammers against my ribcage. “Well, what does she want from you?”
“Blackmailing me to be with her again.”
My gaze glides across the room, lingering on the queen bed closest to the window. Ryder has to be sleeping in that one, because his sweats are thrown across it. “I can’t ask you to get into this drama with Andrew. This is beef between him and me. And it won’t be pretty.”
He takes off his jacket, his tone clipped. “Except it concerns me, too. I don’t want you off my team.”
I stare at the hotel carpet floor. “He’ll only keep me on if we promise not to goneareach other,” I explain. “But that won’t work. Because I don’t think straight or make good decisions when thinking of you, especially notwithyou. And we arenotgoing to be able to keep this secret for six months. Which means Andrew will make that call, and then I will disappoint Jeremy,” I blurt out, a frown forming as my throat feels hot from the need to cry.
I turn around, feverishly wiping my eyes, embarrassment burning my cheeks. This is why I wanted more time alone. I’m a maelstrom of grief, desire, and hope; I don’t know how to figure this out in such a short span of time.
His hand quickly touches my shoulder—
We hear someone walk by the door. It shocks my system as I halt the tears, wiping my nose. “Let’s get to the massage. You definitely need that right now. I bet you’re aching something fierce.”
He doesn’t move, even when I face him. “It’s killing me to see you like this,” he quietly says. “I don’t give a shit what they think, Jules. I really don’t.”
My lips part as I almost ask for his help—to maybe formulate a time and place for us to discuss this further. But when I look into his eyes, I seeJoey Ryder.
I’m being selfish.
This legend is giving everything he has to help his family.
I can’t ask for him to risk even a minute of his time; it’s not worth the disruption to his training. Maybe if we had more time to feel out who we are as a potential couple, things would be different. But we don’t, and that’s simply the hand we’ve been dealt.
After giving a somber smile—as I’m someone who wears her heart on her sleeves and can’t fake it—I grab a chair. Ryder takes off his shirt and lies down, reverting back to silence. He lies on his stomach at the edge of the bed so I can sit and push into his traps. Jut as I get into my rhythm, the door handle jiggles, and Andrew walks in.
“Gotta say, nice work Julie,” Andrew says, turning to ensure the door shuts. “Got three sponsorships solidified, and one said he really likes this whole dynamic of a sister taking care of her brother’s dream. It’s got a great underdog theme, which works for a fighter who hasn’t been seen in years.”
“Well, at least my story is good for something,” I grumble, pressing into Ryder’s shoulder as he tenses.
Andrew sits down on the other bed, eating a granola bar. “Sorry, I don’t mean it like that. But hey, at least this is all really shaping up. There’s definitely a big future here, for all of us, after Warlord.”
I try to imagine the future when Warlord is over. Where will Ryder and I be? Will we dissolve by then? I look at the intricate black line art tattooed on his right shoulder. I want to know everything about him and to behis. For him to bemine.
Not just because of a crush born from all those years ago, but because there’s something familiar about him, something incredibly inviting. And I don’t think my body will ever respond to a man like it does with Ryder.
It takes everything I have not to start crying my eyes out while Andrew is watching.
R Y D E R
