by Meghan Quinn
“But he doesn’t know how you feel.”
“Exactly. Because he thinks of us as friends.” I bite the side of my cheek. Should I tell them? They don’t know about the night after their wedding, at least I don’t think they do. It doesn’t seem like something Colby would tell them. “There’s more.” I swallow hard.
“What do you mean?”
I twist my hands in my lap, feeling both their eyes fixed on me, waiting for my next words. If I was going to tell anyone, besides Leah who really is not part of the equation, it would be these two. If anything they know us the best.
“The night after your wedding, Colby and I hung out. One thing led to another—”
“I told you.” Rory points at Stryder who groans. “I told you they totally did it.”
“What?” I ask.
Irritated, Stryder says, “She thought she saw you guys go to Colby’s hotel room together after the wedding.” Thank God she never asked me before now. How mortifying would it be if she’d known he’d slept with me and then got engaged to another woman. God, even thinking it makes me feel like I’m going to vomit . . .
“We did, but we didn’t do anything that night. We were too drunk to even think of it. But the next day we spent together, hanging out and joking, which led to a night together.”
“And how did you leave things?”
“As friends. He was going back to Vegas, at the time I was still in Colorado Springs, but I can’t get that time together out of my head. It’s clouded my brain and the worst part is, we had sex but never kissed.”
“You never kissed?”
I shake my head. “No. And now I watch him with Sage, the way he so delicately lifts her jaw to his mouth, the smooth way his mouth glides across hers. Fuck, I’m so in love with this man, that all I want is to feel his lips on mine, just once.” Turning toward Stryder, I decide to ask him something that has been burning in my mind since my epiphany. In fact, it’s made me respect him even more. “Is this how you felt when you couldn’t have Rory?”
Slowly he nods, eyes on his wife. “It was fucking torture. Knowing that the person you feel the most connected to, the person you know deep down in your soul you’re supposed to be with is with someone else and there is nothing you can do about it. It’s like living in hell every damn day of your life with a three-hundred-pound man sitting on your chest making it impossible to breathe when they’re around.” Yep. He gets me.
He couldn’t have painted a more true picture. The inability to breathe when he’s around, when I see him with her, when he smiles in my direction because of something I said. It’s devastating not being able to leap into his arms, take his head in my hands and finally feel what it’s like to fully connect with this man.
“And what did you do?”
“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “I did fucking nothing, and I still thank my lucky stars that the woman sitting across from me right now is my wife.”
I lean back on the couch and close my eyes. What Stryder is saying is unfortunately true. There is nothing I can do. Absolutely fucking nothing.
“Love is pain,” I mutter, letting a new wave of tears wash down my face.
“It’s not over,” Rory says, the ever optimistic.
“It’s over, Rory. He’s getting married. There is nothing more final than that.”
Chapter Fourteen
COLBY
A small bungalow in the heart of old Colorado City. Teal planters hang from the windows, empty because of the winter months approaching. A red-brick pathway leads to a yellow front door on a cream adobe-style house. Quaint and charming, exactly what I pictured for Rory.
And the welcome mat with their faces on it at the front door . . . I snort.
Not what I pictured for Stryder, but fuck is it good to see him settled down . . . and domesticated with his face on a welcome mat.
I knock on the wooden door and shift in place, gripping a giant bouquet of flowers and a jug of orange juice, because I honestly didn’t know what else to bring.
The door unlocks and Stryder appears on the other side, looking like the happiest motherfucker I’ve ever seen. The smile that stretches across his face matches the one he had when he slipped a ring on Rory’s finger.
It makes me so happy seeing him like this. I’ve seen him at the worst, the struggle he endured, and the pain he suffered for years, but now, he’s truly happy. There is no denying it as I look at the crinkle of his eyes or the fucking jolly look on his face.
“Colby, come here, man.” Stryder pulls me into a hug and pats me on the back. We embrace for a second before he moves to the side and Rory comes into view, a beautiful round belly pulling at her shirt and a genuine smile on her face.
“You look amazing,” I say, bringing her into a hug.
Many years ago, seeing her pregnant with another man’s baby might have thrown me off the deep end, turning me into a jealous asshole, but none of those feelings surface. Instead, I’m truly content for the both of them.
“How long do you have left?”
“A month. We decided to wait to find out the sex, so don’t even ask.”
Stryder shuts the door behind me. “She decided that. I’ve tried bribing the nurses and doctors, but she has them on lockdown.”
She jabs Stryder. “No cheating. We will find out the sex when the little dumpling is ready to join us.”
“Sure, babe, whatever you say.” Stryder rolls his eyes playfully. “I’m going to check on the waffles. Make yourself at home, dude.”
The smell of waffles filters through the living room that is full of bright colors, cozy and comfy, just like Rory’s studio apartment. There are some familiar decorations I remember and some new things. Pictures of their wedding scatter the wall as well as pictures of Stryder, Rory, and Rory’s brother Bryan at the training facility they own.
It’s perfect.
“Here.” I hand Rory the flowers. “These are for you.”
“Thank you. You’re too sweet.” She sniffs them and then looks at me, a smirk on her face. “Never thought you would be giving me flowers again.”
Laughing, I pat her on the shoulder and say, “Too soon, Rory. Too soon.”
“Even after all these years?” she questions, walking toward the kitchen.
“I’m a sensitive soul.” I’m only teasing, and I’m about to throw in a little fake cry when I stop dead in my walk to the kitchen, orange juice in hand. Ryan steps into view, wearing a pair of leggings, and a loose gray sweater that hangs off her shoulder. Her hair is tied into a bun on the top of her head and her eyes are coated heavily in mascara making her eyes shine brilliantly bright. My heart jumps in my chest as excitement and confusion hit me at the same time.
Holy shit, she’s here.
Relief.
Not even thinking about it, I walk up to her and pull her into a giant hug, burying my head into her hair, my arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders. “What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, soaking in her familiar scent. God, I’ve missed her.
When I pull away, she quickly glances at Stryder and Rory before taking a step back and smoothing down her sweater. “Uh, my dad flew me out here to visit. Just here for a few days.”
“And you weren’t going to tell me?” I feel a pang of hurt hit me square in the chest.
“I didn’t want to bother you.”
“Bother me?” My brow pulls tougher. “Are you kidding me? You know I would always make time for you.” I bring her into my chest again and place a kiss on the top of her head before turning toward Stryder and Rory. “And you fuckers didn’t tell me either. Why didn’t you tell me?”
For some reason, the tension in the room grows as Rory, Ryan and Stryder all look between each other. What the hell is going on?
“Uh, care to share what you three are communicating between each other?”
“What? We’re not communicating anything.” Rory turns around and starts tending to the flowers.
“Waffles are almost ready,” Str
yder says, holding up a spatula before turning back around again.
Shifting next to me, Ryan slips from under my grasp and takes the jug of orange juice from me. “I’ll put this in the fridge for you.”
All three of them busy themselves, avoiding my question, sharing covert looks with one another.
I cross my arms over my chest, fed up with the secrecy. “What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing.”
“I’m breaking up with Donovan.”
Now all eyes are focused on Ryan, who is nervously shifting in place, head tilted down.
She’s breaking up with Donovan. I know I should ask her if she’s okay and empathize with her, but fuck if I don’t want to jump off the wall right now and do a backflip out of pure joy.
Thank fuck!
Don-the-douche doesn’t deserve her, not even close, and I’m glad she’s finally realized that. I hold my tongue, though, knowing how sensitive she is about the subject.
“You are?” I ask, swallowing my emotion.
“Yeah, that’s why they’re being weird, because I just dropped the bomb on them before you got here, and they know how you feel about Donovan. Right, guys?”
“Oh yeah. Kind of still in shock.” Rory sets the bouquet of flowers on the table.
“Really surprised,” Stryder adds.
Ignoring the weird reactions from Rory and Stryder, I turn to Ryan and ask, “When did you decide?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “A while ago. And I also think I’m going to move back here.”
My eyes shoot wide open and my heart drops to the floor. “What?” She’s leaving?
Leaving me?
“Yeah, what?” Rory asks, looking way too excited.
“I’ve been doing some thinking, and I’m not sure Vegas is for me.”
Like a hammer to my chest, the wind is knocked out of me, making it feel almost impossible to stand, my knees weak and my breath hitching in my chest. I take a seat at the table and steady myself.
“What do you mean?”
Taking a seat as well, she avoids eye contact with me and says, “The job is fun, but I’m not sure it’s what I want. I don’t like the hours, and I’m not sure it will get me where I want to be.”
“Have you looked for something else?”
She shakes her head. “Not really, no. I think I need a change.”
A change? Why do I feel like this is a direct dig at me? I might be taking this too personally, but hell, she didn’t tell me she was here, and now she’s moving away? I barely survived when she wasn’t talking to me, what am I going to do when I can no longer call her and ask her out for a burrito lunch date, or have her come over for a barbecue? What about when I need someone to talk to or just hang out with? I have my boys, but Ryan is different. She makes me fucking happy, and I don’t want to lose that.
“When are you planning on moving?” I ask, feeling my throat starting to close in on me.
“Not sure.” She shrugs. “It’s just a thought for now but figured I’d let you all know.”
“You can always stay with us for a bit if you need to,” Rory says, rubbing her belly. “Lord knows, we’ll need the help.” I’ve never wanted to yell at Rory more than I do now. What the hell is she thinking? No, Ryan can’t stay with them. Fuck, she needs to stay in Vegas.
“Thanks,” Ryan says weakly and then takes a deep breath. “Okay, enough about me. Let’s talk about the baby. I can’t believe it’s a girl.”
“What?” Stryder whips his head around, spatula in hand, just as the waffle iron beeps. “We’re having a girl?”
“Are we?” Rory turns to Ryan who is now laughing, the worry on her face slightly masked by the humor in her joke, but I can see right through the bravado. Something isn’t right here.
“Jesus Christ.” Stryder holds his chest. “I thought you knew and weren’t telling me.”
“You really think I would find out and not tell you but tell Ryan?” Rory props her hand on her hip, anger spiraling out of her.
“I don’t know what you two talk about. For all I know, you could already have names picked out between the two of you.”
“Lilah and Jax, right, Rory?” Ryan jokingly eggs them on, causing Rory to roll her eyes.
“I take back my statement from earlier. You are not allowed to stay here anymore.”
“Hey.” I sit next to Ryan on the couch while Rory and Stryder clean up the breakfast mess. We both offered but they refused to let their guests clean. Instead, they shooed us off to the living room, which I prefer because I want some alone time with Ryan, without prying eyes.
“Hey.” She rubs her hands over her thighs, keeping her gaze focused on the wall in front of us.
“What are you doing today? Any plans?”
“Not really, just hanging around here. I think my dad wanted to have dinner again.”
Reaching out, I turn her head toward me, catching those beautiful blue eyes of hers, soulful and full of her multitude of expressions. “You’re hanging out with me. I have the day off and want to show you something.”
“But what about Rory and Stryder?”
“We’re good. We’re going to be putting together a crib,” Rory says as she pokes her head past the wall. Clearly we weren’t alone like I thought. “Go have fun with Colby. You guys haven’t hung out in a bit.”
“Come on.” I stand and grab her hand, pulling her to her feet. “Put on some shoes and a jacket and let’s get out of here.”
I can see her think about it, the wheels in her head turning, her apprehension, and . . . tentativeness.
Where is that coming from? Ever since I’ve known her, she’s been bold and ready to take on the world, but right now, she’s so unsure it’s fucking with my head. Did I do something again? Did I piss her off and not know about it? She’s been such a fucking mystery to me the past few months; I don’t know how to handle her anymore. I’m hoping this day out will renew our friendship.
“I’m not going to bite.” I nod toward the door. “It will be fun.”
“Go on, Ryan,” Rory encourages her from the doorframe. “We’re good here. Go have some fun.” She winks and then goes back into the kitchen.
Ryan twists her lips to the side, debating until she finally says, “Give me a second. I have to put some socks on.”
Thank Christ.
“Okay.”
She takes off toward the back of the house, which gives me an opportunity to talk to Stryder and Rory privately for a second. Keeping my voice low, I force them to turn off the water to the sink. “Is everything okay with Ryan?”
They look at each other and slowly nod. There is definitely something they know but they’re not telling me, and I don’t have enough time to squeeze it out of them, so I go with the one question I need answered. “Is she okay? She’s not in any kind of trouble, is she?”
They both shake their heads. “No, she’s not in trouble.”
“But there is something going on?”
“That’s a secret recipe. Sorry, dude, you can’t have it,” Stryder awkwardly says making me believe Ryan is behind me.
When I hear her voice my suspicions are confirmed. “Okay, I’m ready.”
Plastering a smile on my face, I turn around and put my arm around her shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”
I put the car in park and face Ryan who’s looking around, completely and utterly confused. If I were her, I’d be acting the same way.
“Okay, slight concern. You brought me to a storage unit. Are you going to kill me and stuff me in one of these things?”
Maybe I wouldn’t be acting the same way.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
She chuckles. “It’s just, you know, different.”
“It is, but are you up for it?”
She gives the empty lot of storage bins another glance. “I mean, I’m always up for anything, but if you kill me, please make sure I’m clothed, keep my dignity.”
> My eyes practically roll out of their sockets as I exit the car, Ryan falling closely behind.
“You know that’s a legit concern of mine. Being found naked and dead somewhere. It’s bad enough I’m dead, but do I really have to be naked too?”
On the ride over here, Ryan started to lighten up, her mood morphing as we talked about meaningless and stupid things like if we were astronauts, who we’d want to be? Ryan knew nothing about astronauts, but she pretended to and made up an entire story about a guy named John Armstrong. The combination of John Glenn and Neil Armstrong didn’t slip past me. I laughed, fucking hard, and it felt great. Just in the short drive to the storage units, I felt the tension and confusion leave my body. I was able to enjoy the moment, enjoy her company.
“You realize when you die, they strip you down anyway?”
“Yes, but that’s different. I wasn’t found naked. I don’t want some detective walking up to my body, pad in hand, pen poised to take notes and staring down at my flat nipples thinking, ‘Wow, wonder what they would have been like turned on.’”
I’m in the middle of unlocking my storage unit when I face Ryan. “Do you really think that’s what detectives do? Stare at nipples wondering what they would look like turned on?”
She holds her head high and nods. “Yup.”
“You’re fucked in the head.”
She pokes my side, the playful gesture making me chuckle. “And you choose to hang out with me.”
The lock comes undone, and I bend at the waist to lift the roller door. “Because you keep things interesting, that’s for damn sure.”
When the door is completely open, I reveal where I keep all the important things in my life, the things I collected over the years that belonged to my dad before he passed, things my grandpa owned before he passed, and the planes I grew up flying, planes I take out every once in a while to shed dust off their wings.
Slowly, arms crossed over her chest, Ryan walks inside and takes in the labeled storage bins, the model airplanes hanging from the ceiling, and the old uniforms folded neatly to the side.
