“Yeah. I didn’t want to put her into a nursing home, and it was either that or hire a caregiver.”
“Send Rod the details, and I’ll cover the cost.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“It kind of is.” Ryder leans forward. “If you weren’t coming to work for us, you’d be there to take care of her.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I got it covered. Thanks.”
“Do you have to be so fucking stubborn?” Ryder looks pissed again.
Our little truce didn’t last long, and his erratic mood swings are seriously giving me whiplash.
“Do you have to be so fucking controlling?” I retort.
He blows air out of his mouth as he looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “Fine. I’ll get it added to the terms of your contract.”
“You can’t do that,” I splutter, enraged.
“I think you’ll find I can, and I will.” He shoots me a tight smile.
“You’re being an ass again.”
“It’s his middle name, he can’t help it,” Garrett pipes up.
“I’m beginning to think you’re right,” I say, even though I hate agreeing with anything that jackass has to say.
“For fuck’s sake, Zeta. It’s just money.”
“And now you’re proving my earlier point. The boy I knew respected the value of money.”
Steam practically billows out of his ears. “Offering to cover the costs of a caregiver for an elderly, ill woman is a worthy use of my money. And I don’t disrespect money. Not at all. I’ve worked hard for my success, but the truth is, I’ve got far more money than I know what to do with, and you’re the one making a big deal out of nothing.” He roars the last word at me, removing a silver flask from inside his jacket pocket and pouring the contents straight down his throat.
“Yeah, just pour some more booze down your throat. That’ll fix everything,” I snap.
“You’re driving me to it,” he yells. “You’re driving me fucking insane.”
“Well, you’re the one who wanted me here. You can always change your mind and hire someone else.”
“Don’t fucking tempt me,” he grits out, burying his head in his hands. “Why do you have to make everything so difficult? I told you I’m fucking sorry. What more do you want me to do?”
“I think you should just fuck each other’s brains out and be done with it,” Garrett unhelpfully supplies.
“Don’t fucking start, Gar. I’m not in the mood for your shit.”
No one speaks after that, and I feel awful. I don’t know why I’m being so antagonistic. Or, well, I do, I suppose.
It’s all my hurt rising to the surface.
Since Ryder reappeared in my world, he’s upset the carefully controlled nature of my life, and I’m floundering. I’m feeling so many things I thought I’d buried, and I’m angry with him for that. I’m also terrified of what these next few months will bring and scared I won’t be able to resist him and that I’ll get my heart hurt again. All of this is driving my behavior, but it’s not how I want to act, either around Ryder or the other members of Torment.
I’m a professional music journalist, yet I’m acting like a whiny teenager, and it’s clear I’m driving Ryder to drink, which is not something I want to encourage. I make a mental note to ask Rod on the QT about Ryder’s stint in rehab and whether he’s supposed to be drinking this much.
When we pull up in front of imposing wooden gates an hour later, I smell the fresh, clean air and the salty scent of the sea through the open sunroof, and it brings a smile to my face. I lower the window as the limo glides up the impressively long driveway toward Ryder’s house; although calling it a house is a bit of an understatement.
My eyes pop wide as I take in the impressive two-story modern build. It’s constructed mainly of wood and glass and it fronts a large, manicured lawn. A humongous garage rests off to one side, and another smaller property resides on the right.
Mike opens the door, offering me his hand and helping me outside. “Thank you.” I pull my shades out of my bag and put them on, shielding my eyes from the glare of the midday sun. The rolling sound of the ocean greets my ears, and a gentle breeze blows strands of hair around my face. Closing my eyes, I inhale the peace and quiet and the familiar smells and sounds, instantly feeling more relaxed.
“What do you think?” Ryder quietly asks, speaking to me for the first time since our little blow up in the car.
I open my eyes and turn my face up to the sun, relishing the warmth on my skin. “I think I’m going to love it here,” I truthfully admit, noticing how his whole face lights up at my words. “But we need to talk, and I think we should do it sooner rather than later.”
CHAPTER 24
Ryder
The guys head to their bedrooms to unpack while I lead Zeta through the living area and out onto the upper deck. The architect designed this house with all the living spaces on the second level and the bedrooms, gym, and movie theater on the lower level.
“Wow, this place is magnificent.” Zeta leans over the railing taking in the vast infinity pool, surrounding patio, gardens, and basketball and tennis courts. A wooden bridge leads off the far side of the garden, down to a set of narrow steps and directly onto the private sandy beach. “And the views are spectacular. Now, I see why you used so much glass in the design of the house.”
“That was the architect’s idea,” I explain, leaning against the railing alongside her. “I told him I wanted something modern but homey and practical, and then I gave him free rein.”
“Well, he did a great job.” She points her finger at the wooden structure off to the side of the tennis courts. “What’s that building?”
“That’s the recording studio.”
She turns to face me, and the sun casts her in glorious technicolor highlighting the smattering of freckles across her nose and the subtle reddish undertones in her hair. She’s not wearing much makeup and her black knee-length sundress is understated, but she’s so gorgeous she almost brings me to my knees. As so often happens in her company, I spew out my thoughts without stopping to apply a filter. “I’ve imagined you here so many times, Zeta. I’m really glad you’re here now.”
A delicate smile pulls up the corners of her plump mouth. “Me too,” she softly admits. Her eyes penetrate mine and my heart starts going crazy. This girl does things to me I don’t understand. “You’ve done really well for yourself, Ryder, and I’m proud of you.”
“You are? I thought you hated me?” This time, I’m not joking around, because I need to know how she’s feeling and if there’s any possibility of an us again. I can’t get my hopes up only to have them dashed.
“I could never hate you.” She looks sheepish but sincere. “I tried to. When you left me heartbroken, I wanted to hate you so bad, but I loved you too much to follow through.”
“I hate that I hurt you. I hate that so much.” I hang my head, wondering how she’s even entertaining speaking to me.
“Ryder.” My name is a husky whisper on her tongue, and my dick twitches. I haven’t had sex in over two weeks, which is a new record for me. It’s not for lack of offers, but from the minute she reappeared in my life, I’ve only had eyes for her. The thought of screwing some other woman makes me feel ill.
Garrett and Micah would piss their pants if they heard my thoughts right now.
I look up when her fingers trail the stubble on my jawline, and a shiver works its way through me. Her touch ignites my blood and kindles my desire, and it’s not long before my cock is straining against the zipper of my shorts. “Can we sit down over there?” she asks in that hypnotic tone of hers, pointing at the cozy seated area, and I can only nod.
I take her hand, threading my fingers in hers as I lead us over to the couch. I always loved holding her hand, and that was probably the only good thing about juvie. Bec
ause we couldn’t have sex or indulge in any hot make-out sessions, the smaller intimate moments between us were so special and came to mean so much to me. I’ve never had that intimacy with anyone else, and I’ve never wanted to hold someone’s hand or just hug them and smell their hair the way I do with Zeta.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I ask, opening the lid of the cooler.
“A water would be good, thanks.”
I remove two bottles and hand one to her. Then I sit down beside her on the wicker couch, kicking off my Vans and planting my bare feet up on the footstool.
She angles her body so she’s turned toward me with her legs tucked up. “I owe you an apology. I’ve been behaving like an insolent little brat, which is embarrassing to admit, but it’s the truth.”
“It’s okay. I’ve been acting like a total jerk, so I’d say we’re even.” I unscrew the cap on my bottle and take a swig. The icy-cold liquid is like a balm to my dry throat and I drain it in one go, reaching over to the cooler for another.
“I’d like to start over,” she says, and I nod, silently encouraging her to go on. “I’ve just been very confused these last few days.”
She worries her lower lip between her teeth, and I’m reaching out, gently releasing her lip before I’ve realized I’m doing it. “You’ll hurt yourself,” I mumble, feeling my cheeks heat a little.
“Can we be honest with one another?”
“Absolutely. I never want to be anything but honest with you.”
Hypocrite.
I push my inner voice and the accompanying guilt away.
“There’s a lot I want to tell you. Some of it may hurt, but I’m not saying it to be cruel,” she continues. “I want you to understand where I’m coming from, because if we don’t discuss this openly, I’m afraid we’ll continue snapping at one another, and it’s going to make the tension unbearable around here.”
“I can handle it, and I’d rather know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”
She wets her lips in a nervous tell. “When you left me, I was devastated. I didn’t realize that when people spoke about having a broken heart it was physically true. I mean, I’m not saying that my heart literally broke apart, but the pain I felt in my chest every day was as close to it as one can possibly get without dying. Your loss was a physical wrench I felt in every part of my body, and it took me a long time to find a way of living without you.”
I’ve never hated myself more than I do in this moment, and that’s saying a lot, because I hate myself pretty much all the time. “I’m so sorry,” I croak. “And if it’s any consolation, my heart was equally broken.”
She laces her fingers in mine, looking at me through glassy eyes. “I don’t know if it is. I’ve spent eight years believing you walked away because you’d fallen in love with someone else. I blamed myself for not being good enough for you.”
“No, no, no, baby.” I scoot in closer to her, linking both our hands. “That couldn’t be further from the truth. You were always way too good for me.”
“When you told me the truth the other night, you rewrote our history in a way I never contemplated, and I don’t know how to process all these new feelings. Knowing you were hurting as much as me only makes me sadder. Knowing you walked away because you thought I was better off without you makes me so fucking mad I could scream. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”
She peers deep into my eyes. “My head’s a hot mess right now, and I’m lashing out at you because deep down I blame you for creating this mess.”
She gulps, and a single tear trickles down her face. I brush it away, gently kissing the damp spot on her cheek. Her chest heaves, and a breathy little whimper escapes her gorgeous mouth.
I want to kiss her so badly it feels like I’ll die if I can’t taste her lips. But I rein my hormones in, because she wants to talk, and I feel like we might finally be getting somewhere. Kissing her could make her fly off the handle again, so I give my dick a silent pep talk, warning it to calm the fuck down. “You should blame me. It is my fault.”
“I don’t want to play the blame game, Ryder. What’s done is done, and we can’t change it. That’s the issue.” She looks away, staring at the ocean in the near distance, and I rub little circles on the back of her hand while she gathers her thoughts. Strands of her dark hair lift, swirling around her face, and I can’t believe I’m jealous because I want to be the one caressing her silky-smooth skin. When she looks back at me, I’m blindsided by the wealth of emotion glistening in her eyes.
“I closed myself off, Ryder. I threw barriers up around my heart, and I never let myself feel, because I didn’t want to go through that kind of pain again.” A steely glint appears in her eye, almost like she’s waiting for me to challenge her. She juts her chin up and fixes me with a confident look. “I’m sexually promiscuous, because I need it to release all this pent-up emotion I bury inside, but it’s only ever sex. It’s only ever a physical act. One I usually instigate and control. I rarely go back for seconds, because I don’t want to risk growing attached, not that it’d be a problem because I’ve never felt a connection with anyone the way I feel with you.”
My brain scrambles to process all that. I’ve suspected she might be like me, using sex to bury her feelings, but to have her confirm it has scattered my emotions to the wind. I’m not being hypocritical when I say I hate that she’s like that, because I’m not judging her for her lifestyle. I just never wanted that for her. I’ve always wanted more for her, and I’ve battled with my feelings over the years when I realized what she was doing, torn between rejoicing at the fact she hadn’t fallen in love with anyone else and hating the thought of her feeling as alone as I was.
She’s looking at me expectedly, waiting for my response. I cup her cheek. “I’ve never felt a connection with anyone but you. I’ve never shared intimacy with anyone but you. And, fuck it, baby, I’ve lived my life exactly like you. Placing my feelings on lockdown and using sex as a way of feeling in control, but the thought of you being as fucking lonely as I’ve been hurts my heart so bad, because I didn’t wish for that. Leaving you was supposed to make your life better, not harder.”
“Ryder,” she sobs, tears rolling down her face unbidden. “I’ve been so lonely, but no one else could ever match up to you.”
I throw caution to the wind and yank her into my arms. “I know, baby. I know.” I hold her tight, sighing contentedly when her arms go around my waist and her head comes to rest on my chest. Closing my eyes, I nuzzle my face into her hair and inhale deeply. Her hair smells different now, like peaches and vanilla, but she still smells like home.
Like my only place of peace and happiness.
I’ve missed this close human contact, this intimacy with her, and if it was up to me, we’d be a couple already, but I can’t be dismissive of her feelings. Of how I’ve made her feel. I run my hand up and down her back as she sobs intermittently. “I love you, Zeta,” I whisper in her ear. I press a tender kiss to her temple. “I still love you so much.”
She goes rigidly still in my arms, and I wonder if I’ve pushed too hard, if I’ve lost her again. Sniffling, she eases back, looking up at me through tear-stained eyes. “I still love you too, but—”
I don’t let her complete that sentence, muting her words by pressing my lips against hers. I kiss her softly, and her mouth instantly responds, moving against mine effortlessly. I sweep my tongue along the seam of her lips, and she opens for me willingly. I pull her into my lap and lean back against the couch, holding her firmly by the waist as I kiss the shit out of her.
My heart is drowning in sensation, my body’s on fire, and my head? My head is finally at peace as I just focus on the euphoria of having her back in my arms, of tasting her sweet sexiness on my lips.
Jerking my hips up, I thrust my hard-on into her pelvis, letting her know what she does to me. She rips her mouth from mine, s
cooting out of my lap and promptly falling on her butt on the floor. “Zeta.” My heart is pounding in fear as I stand, helping her up.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” she says, shaking her head, looking completely flustered, and trying to back away from me.
“Please don’t do this. Don’t tell me you didn’t want that because I know you did!” I drag my hands through my hair as a heavy weight settles on my chest.
“Ryder.” She sighs, pulling herself together. Taking a step toward me, she removes my hands from where they’re fisting my hair, circles her arms around my neck, and hugs me.
A golf-ball-sized lump of emotion clogs my throat. My blood pressure recalibrates, and my stress levels reduce as I lean into her embrace.
“I want it. I want you. I do,” she reassures me, before slipping out of our embrace. She pins me with sorrowful eyes. “But I can’t overcome eight years of anguish overnight. I know now you were trying to do the right thing, but I still feel so much hurt, so much pain, all of it unnecessary. I spent years feeling betrayed. Thinking you had cheated on me, thinking everything we’d shared had been a lie, and it cut deep. It’s not something I can just toss aside like it didn’t matter.” She shakes her head, and a veil of sadness shrouds her pretty features. “If you had only waited and talked to me.”
She rubs a hand across her chest, and I wish I could tell her the full truth. Scrap that. I know I need to tell her the full truth, but the timing has to be right, and we’re not there yet. Plus, I need to work up the courage to admit it because I’m not strong enough yet to deal with rejection. If she leaves me for good after she finds out, I don’t think I’ll survive losing her again. We’ve only just reconnected, and I’ve already hit her with so much of the heavy stuff. I need to let her process that first before I drop a loaded bomb. “So, what are you saying?” I ask, needing to know where we stand.
“I’m saying I need a little time and space.”
“I can give you that.” I reach out, winding my hands through her hair. “But I want to make one thing clear. I want you back, Zeta. You’re my girl, and you belong with me.”
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