Dark Surrendering

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  For a second, I thought about walking to the garage nearby where I kept my car and then driving out of the city for a while. But I had dinner to make. A routine to keep. I just wished that routine still included a sexy redhead with a rocky past.

  I had a surprise waiting for me when I walked into my apartment. That very redhead I’d just been wishing I could see? He was standing right in my kitchen.

  My brain only registered that there was a stranger in my apartment, so I screamed until I recognized it was Ryder and he wasn’t here to murder me. At least I didn’t think so.

  “Holy shit!” I dropped my bags and clutched at my chest. My heart had jumped so hard, I thought it was going to rip out of my ribcage and cower under the couch.

  “Sorry.” He didn’t seem to be the least bit sorry. He leaned on the counter as if he broke into people’s houses every day. For all I knew, he did. He certainly looked like someone who would break into your house, with paint-covered, ripped jeans, a t-shirt that had seen better days, and just the barest hint of red stubble standing out on his chin. And those eyes. Blue like the ocean at night. The tattoos that poked out from the sleeves of his shirt only added to the ne’er-do-well persona.

  “What the fuck are you doing here? How did you get in?”

  He stood up straight. “You gave me a key, remember?”

  Oh, right. I’d forgotten about that. I’d given it to him a while ago. But he didn’t answer my first question.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked again. We’d discuss the lock picking later.

  “Well, remember how I said we shouldn’t be friends and shouldn’t see each other unless it was in a group circumstance and completely platonic?”

  “My memory isn’t that terrible. I think I can remember a question we had yesterday,” I said with ice in my voice.

  “Well, I decided I didn’t want to do that. Fuck it. I like seeing you. I like talking to you. We should be able to see each other and talk and shit, right?”

  Well, I thought so, but he was the one who’d decided he didn’t want to. Yesterday.

  “So, you’re saying forget all the stuff you said less than twenty-four hours ago? About me making you want to do bad things and all that?” I sounded bitter. I didn’t mean to.

  “Uh, yeah. Fuck that shit. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry that I’m jerking you around. It’s just that my head is so mixed up. It’s hard to function normally when you’re used to being high or drunk, or on something. Just being normal is . . . hard. Really hard.”

  I could understand that. And I did make a lot of allowances for the fact that he was still getting his shit together and recovering. I tried to be patient, but it wasn’t easy.

  “Okayyyyy,” I said slowly. “So, does this mean we’re going to be friends? Have you talked to your brother about this?” Like we needed his permission. But still, I was pretty sure he wouldn’t like us hanging out together, even if it was platonic.

  “No, I haven’t talked to him about it, but I will. I’ll keep you out of it.”

  I laughed once. “Yeah, how are you going to do that?”

  “I don’t know. But I will. I’ll just explain that you were really there for me when I was in the hospital and that you’re an integral part of me staying clean and sober and away from the bad influences in my life. The other night was an anomaly. It won’t happen again.” It sounded so easy and believable when he said it.

  He looked at me with such hope in his eyes.

  “That sounds well and good, but is he going to buy that?” I asked.

  Ryder smiled at me. “I can sell anyone on anything. Just watch me.” And he sauntered around me and through the door. Left wondering what the hell was happening, I followed him. He stopped in front of Lucah and Rory’s door and rang the bell.

  The door opened to a surprised Rory.

  “Ryder! I didn’t think we were going to be seeing you for a while. How’s everything going?” She spoke to him in that tone you use for children or sick people. It was kind of high-pitched and sweet.

  “Doing good, doing good. Is my brother here?”

  Lucah appeared at the door, his eyes narrowing when he saw me standing a few feet away from Ryder. Why didn’t he just put the guy in one of those plastic bubbles like John Travolta in that movie he was in? Jesus Christ.

  “I thought you weren’t going to be coming by for a while,” Lucah said, his voice tight. I could tell he was trying not to explode. Well, that was progress.

  “Yeah, well, I changed my mind. Also, I decided something else. I can see who I want, when I want. I know you think that I’m fragile and broken and shit, but I’m not. And I’m not going to go back to the way things were. I know it’s going to require a lot for you to trust me even a little bit, but I need you to trust me now. I’m doing okay, and you, Rory, and Sloane are a huge part of that. All three of you. I don’t think I’ve thanked you and Tate enough for being there for me, even when I didn’t deserve it.” Ryder was getting emotional, and I couldn’t say I was entirely dry-eyed myself. Rory wiped at her own eyes, but Lucah just stared at his brother.

  “So, that’s what I have to say,” Ryder said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looked young right then, much younger than twenty-two.

  Lucah looked at his brother for a long time before he said anything. “Okay. I think I can do that. But I’m taking a chance on you, Ryder. You’ve let me down before.”

  Ryder nodded. “I know. But I don’t want to do that anymore. I don’t want to be that guy.” I hadn’t really known that guy much. Sure, I’d been attracted to him, but I’d be attracted to him no matter what. Sometimes you couldn’t fight that pull toward another person.

  “Now that’s something I think we can agree on,” Lucah said, the start of a smile forming on his face. Yes. We were getting somewhere.

  “Good,” Ryder said, pulling his hands out of his pockets and holding one out to Lucah.

  “Come on,” Lucah said, finally smiling and holding his arms out. The two brothers hugged, and I shared a look with Rory. Ryder and Lucah had had a lot of moments like this lately, and I’d gotten to witness some of them. They might be incredibly different, but the love between them was palpable. I’d never loved any of my siblings like that. The love in my family was the obligatory kind.

  They released each other and then there was a bit of an awkward moment.

  “Well, I guess I should get started on dinner,” I said, backing up and heading toward my door.

  “I’ll help,” Ryder said. I turned to see if Lucah would object, but he kept his mouth shut.

  “Let us know when it’s ready,” Rory said, giving me a wink and drawing Lucah back into the apartment.

  “Will do,” I said, giving her a salute. She closed the door, and then it was just me and Ryder.

  “So. Shall we?” he said, offering his arm. I snorted and took it. We strolled back to my apartment like we were in an old movie and he was my gentleman caller, leading me to my door where he’d tell me he had a swell time.

  “Would it be weird if I told you I missed you?” he said as I opened the door.

  “No.” I’d missed him too. It had only been a day, but it felt like much longer.

  “Good. That’s good.”

  I smiled at him as he followed me into the kitchen.

  “What’s on tap for tonight?” he asked as I started assembling ingredients.

  “Rory loves my truffle mac and cheese, so I’ll do that with roasted broccoli, cauliflower, and gelato for dessert. I don’t feel like making an elaborate dessert tonight, but at least the pasta is homemade.” Exhaustion crashed down on me, and suddenly all I wanted to do was take a nap.

  “Put me to work,” he said, going to the sink and washing his hands. Ryder was a great sous chef. I was reluctant to even have Rory help me, but Ryder was different. He let me tell him what to do, and he didn’t do anything until I told him to do it. If only he was like that the rest of the time, he’d be the perfect ma
n.

  “Okay, if you could wash the vegetables and boil the water, that would be great.” I got the truffles out of the fridge. They were already washed and ready to use, they just needed to be chopped.

  “I thought truffles were chocolate,” he said.

  “That’s a different kind of truffle. Real truffles are mushrooms, and they use pigs and dogs to find them. I’d love to go truffle hunting someday.” It was on my bucket list. Most of my travel plans were food-related. I wanted to taste fresh olive oil and eat fresh croissants, and wade through a rice paddy. If this fashion thing would ever calm down, then I might have a chance to do some of those things.

  “Huh. What do you know,” he said. I showed Ryder the truffle and started talking about what I was making, and he listened. One of the things I liked so much about him was his listening skills. They were good. For a guy who talked a lot and swore a lot, he knew how to keep his mouth shut and act interested. And he always remembered what I told him later on. I’d quizzed him to make sure.

  Sometimes I caught him staring at my chest, but then his eyes would move up to my face. So I didn’t call him on it.

  “How’s everything going with the farting therapist?” Ryder had been ordered by the hospital and by Lucah to attend therapy several times a week. Even though he hadn’t meant to kill himself with his overdose, it was still disconcerting.

  “I swear, I feel like I want to give the guy some Pepto Bismol or something. I don’t know. Dude’s go issues.”

  I snorted and stirred the pasta so it didn’t stick together. “Your therapist needs fart therapy.”

  “Seriously,” he said, laughing. “But the first step in solving a problem is admitting you have a problem, and I don’t think he’s there yet.”

  He asked me about my day, and I broke down and told him about my quitting interns. Once upon a time, I’d wanted to hire Ryder to work for me. Yes, he probably didn’t know a damn thing about making clothes, but he would have been fun to be around and stare at. He’d probably model for me if I asked him to. God, that would be nice.

  I’d gotten a peek at the goods, and they were damn good. I didn’t think I’d be attracted to someone like him, but damn. His body told a story and I wanted to know about it.

  “You’re staring at me,” he said, and I realized I’d been mentally undressing him. Oops.

  I looked away and into the boiling pot. Shit, hopefully the pasta wasn’t overcooked. I’d have to toss it. You couldn’t do anything with overcooked pasta. I grabbed a slotted spoon and dipped out some of the pasta so I could taste it to make sure it was cooked right. And of course I burned my tongue. I was a little distracted by Ryder.

  “Aren’t you going to throw it at the wall? That’s how my father always did it. Then my mother would come in and yell at him for it.”

  I shook my head. “No way. Not in my kitchen. Not ever.” I shuddered at the thought.

  “Bummer.” He grabbed the spoon from me and fished out a piece, putting it in his mouth. “Tastes good.”

  “Well, it should. I’m making it.”

  He raised one ginger eyebrow at me. “Cocky much?” he said.

  “Just in the kitchen. And with a sewing machine.” Hell, I could barely get my shit together to pay my bills.

  “Uh huh,” he said, skeptical. I rolled my eyes.

  “Whatever.”

  I went back to tending the pasta, getting out the colander. Ryder stood off to the side, but he started whistling. The tune sounded somewhat familiar.

  “What song is that?” I asked as I drained the pasta.

  “I Touch Myself,” he said.

  Now I was the one raising eyebrows. “Seriously?”

  “Yup.”

  “Are you trying to suggest anything with that particular song?”

  He grinned at me. “Maybe.”

  I didn’t know what to do with this piece of information, so I just tossed the pasta into the colander and didn’t say anything. Ryder kept whistling, and I could feel my cheeks getting hot and red, and it wasn’t from the steam of the hot water.

  Normally, something like that wouldn’t make me blush, but Ryder did something else to me. I liked it much more than I would admit.

  He stopped whistling and I returned the pasta to the pot. We were now ready for the cheese sauce and truffle mixture. The vegetables were roasting in the oven, and I really needed a glass of wine. Or, as I liked to call it, Chef Juice. But I hadn’t gotten any wine out because of Ryder.

  There was a knock at the door, and Ryder let Rory in.

  “We almost done? I’m starting to get hangry. I didn’t get to eat much today.” She looked tired, but that was what happened when your father’s software company, that you also worked for, went through a PR nightmare. Rory was working mega overtime to smooth everything over and help her dad as much as possible.

  “I’m sorry, babe. We’re almost there. I have some snacks if you need something right now.” I’d had a feeling she was going to want something, so I’d gotten out some carrots and hummus.

  “Oh, thank God. I never thought I’d be so happy to see hummus in my life.” She pounced on the plate and started stuffing her face.

  “I don’t know how you can eat that,” Ryder said, making a face.

  “I’d eat just about anything right now,” Rory said, her mouth full of carrot and hummus. Classy.

  “I would rather eat another person than eat that,” Ryder said, pointing to the half-empty plate.

  “You would eat human flesh before eating hummus?” I said.

  He nodded. “Yeah. I would.” Nuts. That was nuts.

  “You underestimate the deliciousness of Sloane’s hummus,” Rory said, practically licking her fingers.

  “Oh, I don’t underestimate anything about Sloane,” Ryder said, and I coughed on my own saliva. Nice.

  I kept working with my pasta. I knew I was stirring it too much, and it was going to get overdone, but I couldn’t look at Ryder at the moment.

  He must have sensed that I was uncomfortable, so he started asking Rory about work, and she launched into everything she’d had to go through. At least the press wasn’t camped out in front of the building anymore.

  “Poor Lilia. I should really start paying her more. Our website went down and none of the tech people could figure out what was wrong and she took about five minutes and it was fixed. I’m so terrified I’m going to lose her to the IT department. Or even another company. She’s the best assistant I’ve ever had,” she moaned.

  “Um, what about the one you had before her?” I asked, meaning Lucah. We’d jokingly called him her “sexcretary,” but now he worked in a different department so they could date without getting in trouble.

  “Oh, he was good, but he didn’t know how to code. That’s an invaluable skill at a tech company.” True story. Like sewing skills in the fashion world. I was sure there were plenty of designers who couldn’t sew and had somehow worked their way up, but it was rare. Your chances of becoming successful were much better if you could.

  “I could learn how to code,” Ryder said. “I need more skills. All of the things I’m good at don’t make me employable.” Wasn’t that the truth? He and Rory had worked on his resume, but there wasn’t a whole lot to work on. His employment history wasn’t the best, and there was no way of sugarcoating that.

  “How is your job, by the way?” Rory asked, finishing the last carrot. Ryder had gotten a part-time job busing tables at a local restaurant.

  He shrugged. “It sucks ass. But money is money, I guess. And I don’t think I’m going to be working there forever.”

  “So what do you want to do?” I asked.

  He burst out laughing. “Fuck if I know. I always thought I wanted to be a rock star when I was little, but I pretty much suck at playing the guitar. My dumbass brother got all that talent,” he said, referring to Lucah, who could probably have a second career as a singer if he wanted. Boy had pipes.

  “But you don’t have any idea?” I’d a
lways known what I wanted to do. I couldn’t fathom someone who didn’t have at least some clue. How could you go through life without passion for something? Anything. I didn’t care what it was, but something.

  He made a face. “Not really. Guess I should figure that out. My therapist is up my ass about it.”

  I’d probably be reluctant to figure my shit out if a farting therapist was pestering me about it.

  “Okay, we’re ready,” I said, interrupting any further discussion of the farting therapist. We got all the food together and set it on the dining table. I’d gotten custody of it when Rory had moved, which was good, since I’d been the one who picked it out. I wouldn’t let Rory leave me much else, though, since a lot of the furniture had been bought by her father. It was all super nice, and much too opulent for me.

  Rory went down the hall to fetch Lucah, who I had the feeling was hiding until he had to come out. But when he finally joined us, he was much more upbeat and positive, and not nearly as surly or judgmental as he was just a day ago.

  “You going to therapy tomorrow?” Lucah asked Ryder.

  “Does a bear shit in the woods?” Ryder said. I snorted into my pasta.

  “Hilarious,” Lucah said, but he was smiling.

  “Yes, I’m going to therapy. You can stop asking. I’ll do my time,” Ryder said, making a face.

  “This is really great, Sloane, as usual,” Rory said, changing the subject.

  “It’s really great. I was skeptical, honestly. But it’s fucking amazing,” Ryder said.

  “Thank you very fucking much,” I said, and he smiled at me in a way that made my stomach flip over like it hadn’t flipped in a very long time. Ryder made me feel like I was eleven again and had just discovered boys didn’t have cooties and were actually kind of nice and fun and made me feel things I didn’t understand and couldn’t put a name on.