“Yes, sir.” Derek jumps into action, accepting the keys from Stuart. “Come on, bro. Time to fill your cupboards.”
“I don’t need—”
“Harold,” Stuart cuts him off. Ryan snaps his mouth shut and regards me. I have no idea what’s happening. I’m still stuck on how Derek, a guy who sounds like a true Delta, refers to his dad as sir.
“Will you be okay?”
“I’ll be fine.” As much as I want to beg to take me with him, I nod to confirm my answer. I don’t want to be left alone with his dad. I’ll say something stupid. My true self will come out, and I’ll piss him off. He’ll insist Ryan dump me for someone closer to his class—like royalty or maybe a senator’s daughter. After all, he’s a Ryan. He’s a freakin’ Ryan.
“You sure?”
“Ryan, go with your brother.” I struggle to hold my smile. I’m terrified not having him by my side. He makes me stronger than I really am. It’s his faith in me. His confidence I’m better than I think I am. The way he looks at me boosts my self-esteem. Without him here, I’ll slip back into my old ways.
He pulls me aside and stops by the front door. The look in his eyes, a cross between concern and apprehension, has me tense with worry. “You don’t have to do this. I can tell them to leave.”
“When was the last time you saw your dad?” When his answer is his gaze dropping to the floor, I squeeze his hands. “Or your brother?”
“Christmas at the annual forced family reunion.”
“It’s just one meal.”
“It’s not,” he corrects and shoots me with such an intense look I inhale sharply. “First, it’s buying me groceries. Then it’ll be a few extra dollars in my account. Then a car. Then the rest of my college. It never stops with him.”
I don’t understand. If I had a dad willing to do all of that for me, I’d let him. It sure would make things easier not having to stress over money all the time. Stressing over grades is enough. “Why don’t you want his help?”
“Because there are always strings attached. He doesn’t do anything without expecting something in return. Trust me.”
I sigh, not having anything good enough to say to that. Not knowing what else to do, I sigh again. “If you want them to leave, tell them to leave. But I don’t think you should. I think you should let them see you in your element. This is your domain, not theirs. Yours. Let them see how great you’re doing on your own. Let them see the man you’ve turned into.”
“That you’ve turned me into,” he corrects.
“Semantics, babe. Tomato, tomahto.”
He grins that lopsided grin I love. “You called me babe.”
“That’s your takeaway from my impromptu speech?” I tease, drawing an even bigger grin. “That was one hell of a speech.”
“That it was.” He steals a kiss that makes my stomach flip. “I have one hell of a girlfriend,” he whispers, and my stomach flips again.
“Fake girlfriend,” I remind him, albeit reluctantly.
He drops his smile and darts a quick glance at the other Ryans in the room. “Listen, they don’t need to know about our little deal, okay? Please, for tonight, don’t be my fake anything. I need you to be my real everything.”
The sincerity in his expression pulls at my heart. I nod as a sudden tidal wave of emotions closes my throat. He kisses my temple. I love the way it makes me feel, like I’m the center of his universe.
“Today, bro.” Derek groans. “We’re coming back.”
“Let’s go.” He nods at his brother. The two close the door behind them, leaving me alone with the richest man I’ve ever met.
38
{Emma}
I smile at Stuart Ryan before glancing around the room, assessing the clutter and cringing inwardly. Empty wineglasses on the table. A plate of half-eaten cheese and meat. Cracker crumbs all over the floor. We haven’t done dishes in a couple of days. A collection of dirty socks has gathered under the coffee table. I could die. I’m embarrassed as hell to meet Ryan’s dad for the first time like this.
“I’m sorry the place is such a mess.” I rush to collect the plate and glasses. “Let me just get these out of the way.”
“I’ll take a glass of that wine if there’s more.” He moves to the couch and takes a seat.
I nearly drop the glass in my hand. I can’t tell him the wine was under ten dollars. Or comes from a box. “Coming right up.” I quickly wash one of the glasses and pour the wine.
“That is, only if you’ll join me in a glass.”
I don’t trust myself having more wine. It makes me too honest for my own good. I’ll say something stupid for sure. But, I can’t not have a glass and make him drink alone while I watch. Talk about awkward. “Uh, sure.”
I’m careful bringing the glasses of wine into the living room. With my luck, I’ll trip and dump red wine all over his sweater. Thank God I make it to the couch without spilling a drop and offer him a glass.
“Thank you.” He takes the glass and nods at the seat next to him. “Please, sit.”
There are like five different places to sit that won’t involve me being on the same piece of furniture. Not wanting to insult him, I take a seat as far away on the couch as possible and stare at my glass.
“Tell me a bit about yourself, Emma.” He takes a sip, his steely gaze never leaving mine. It makes me want to confess things to him I’ve never told a soul. Now I know where Ryan gets it.
“I’m in my second year here at BU.” I start with something simple. Safe.
“What’s your major?”
“General studies.” It comes out as a question. In all honesty, it really is a question. I still don’t know what it means, and I’ve been struggling to graduate with a degree in it for almost two years.
He nods. “What do you plan to do after you graduate?”
“I haven’t really thought that far ahead.” Oh, God. Oh, God! Why would I admit to something like that? And to Stuart Ryan of all people? “I’m only a sophomore.”
“How is it you’re a sophomore and old enough to drink?” His gaze dances as he takes another sip.
“I don’t have fake ID,” I blurt out, then slam my eyes shut in mortification. “I mean, I’m old enough to buy alcohol. And drink it.” God, shut up, you moron.
He chuckles and smiles, warming his features. I release a little of the breath I’ve been holding. “Relax, Emma. I’m not here to pass judgment.”
“Why are you here?” I blurt out before I can engage the filter between my brain and mouth.
“Can’t a father visit his son?”
“Not at nine o’clock on a Thursday. Ryan thinks you want something.” Why can’t I keep my damn mouth shut?
“Ryan,” he repeats. “That’s the second time you’ve referred to him by his last name.”
Oh, shit. ShitShitShit. I can’t tell him about the deal. Ryan specifically asked me not to. “The Delta di—” I catch myself and panic to cover it up. “His frat brothers call him HP since he’s a wizard with computers. I didn’t like it, so I just sort of started calling him by his last name.”
“He has a first name.”
“Harold isn’t much better than HP.” I round my eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” I’m an idiot.
He chuckles again. “It’s okay. It was his mother’s idea to name him after her father. I like Ryan. It fits him.” He takes his time pulling on his wine. “As does his new look. Was that your doing, as well?”
I’m so nervous I’m sweating. I wipe at my brow and swallow a large gulp of wine to wet my dry throat. How am I going to explain Ryan’s new look without telling his dad about the deal? “We both felt it was time to update his look.”
“What do you get out of the deal?”
I cough into my glass and recover by taking another long, long, drink. “What makes you think I’m getting anything out of this deal?”
“What is the deal, exactly? You upgrade his look in exchange for something?”
My mouth fall
s open so far I swear my jaw unhinges as it hits the floor. How’d he figure that out so fast? I said one thing and admitted nothing. Man, he’s good. “It’s not like that. I’m not using him.” It’s exactly what I’m doing and feel like hell lying to his dad like this. Then again, he’s using me too, so that makes us even. Doesn’t it?
“I can see the subject makes you uncomfortable.”
Does it ever. I hate being on the defensive. I never say the right things. Wanting to turn the table, I ask him, “What brings you to Bainbridge Island?”
“I had a late meeting with the board of regents and thought I’d stop by before returning to Seattle.”
“You live in Seattle?” I’m stunned. Ryan grew up in the same city as me? How did I not know that? Then again, we barely know anything about each other. That thought fills me with regret. We break up in two days and I don’t even know where he grew up.
“West Mercer Island, to be exact.”
Of course. The richest part of the entire city. The entire state, for that matter. He’s probably neighbors with Bill Gates and Paul Allen.
“Are you from Seattle?”
“Lake City.” It’s not Mercer Island, but it’s not the worst part of the city, either.
“Perhaps you and Ryan can find the time to come for a visit next week over spring break.” He locks his gaze with mine. My mouth runs dry. I drink more wine. Every time I open my mouth, I reveal something else I don’t want him to know. My nerves are raw from being constantly strung too tight. “I can’t tell if that shocked look is from me asking for you to come visit, or the fact I called him Ryan.”
“Both.” I giggle like an idiot.
“Why do I make you so nervous?”
“Because you’re my boyfriend’s dad. It feels weird sitting here drinking wine with you. On top of that, you’re Stuart freakin’ Ryan. You’re like royalty at BU.” I suck in a breath, wishing I’d be stuck with a sudden case of laryngitis and lose my voice.
“You obviously know who I am.”
“Everyone at BU knows who you are.”
He stands, takes my empty glass, and walks into the kitchen to refill them. I don’t need more wine. It’s like truth serum on me. He doesn’t ask if I want another. He simply returns with two fresh pours. No comments on the box he had to extract the wine from. No judgmental look when he clearly spotted the pile of dishes in the sink. “I have a question.”
Oh, no. Nothing good ever came from starting a conversation with those four words, either. “Shoot.”
“Please forgive my bluntness.”
Or those four. I brace myself for whatever he’s about to say. His expression changes, grows still, almost cold. No, definitely cold. I’m immediately tense. “Did you know Ryan was my son? Was that why you targeted him?”
“Excuse me?” I had to have heard him wrong. Did he just accuse me of going after Ryan?
“What is it you’re getting out of this? He’s not used to women like you.”
Oh, hell no. My tongue is itching to let loose on this guy. “What exactly am I?”
“A player,” he states matter-of-factly. “It’s obvious you’re playing him. I just can’t figure out why. If it’s money you want, I’ll pay you to stay away from him. He’s not smart enough to see through your act or strong enough to resist it. Just please, don’t try to trap him. He doesn’t need the burden of a child when he can barely take care of himself.”
I’ve never been so insulted in all my life. I tense as I lose the battle at controlling my ginger and throw my drink in his face while I spring to my feet. Disrespecting me is one thing. He does not get to disrespect Ryan. “You’re an asshole. It’s no wonder Ryan doesn’t want anything to do with you. I wouldn’t either if you were my father.” I don’t miss the hurt softening his expression from my comment. I don’t care and keep going. “He warned me about you. He said you didn’t do anything without strings attached. What a terrible influence you’ve had on your son. Thank God he’s nothing like you.”
He casually pulls a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wipes the wine from his face. It’s stained his sweater, as well as the couch. Ryan is going to kill me. “You’ve avoided the question.”
“No.” I would have thrown another drink in his face if I had one. I hate this man that much. “I’m not trying to trap him. I don’t want his money. He doesn’t even want his money. I had no idea he was your son when I met him. I wish he wasn’t related to you at all.” I grab my shoes from under the table. To hell with this. I refuse to stay here and be insulted by the biggest prick on the planet.
“Emma, wait.” He rests his hand on my wrist as I reach for two random socks from the collection under the table.
“Screw you.” I jerk out away. Forget the socks. I’ll wear the shoes without them.
He stands and reaches for me. “Please, let me explain.”
I back up. “Touch me again and I swear to God I’ll break every one of your goddamn fingers.”
He withdraws his hands and nods. “You have every right to be upset.”
“Upset?” Despite my want to get as far away from this man as possible, I take a step toward him in challenge. No one has the right to talk to me like that. “You think I’m upset? I’m way beyond upset. You come into Ryan’s house uninvited. You waste no time throwing your weight around by going after the things you know will get under his skin. The groceries. Ordering Derek to take him to the store like a babysitter. Going after me. It’s no wonder he wants nothing to do with you. I want nothing to do with you.” I’m panting in my rage, on the verge of tears, and ready to take him on with my bare hands if I have to. No one disrespects Ryan. No one.
“I’m sorry. I had to be sure you were with him for the right reasons.”
“There are better ways to find out!” I shout right in his face. “What makes you think you have any right to come in here and talk to me like that?”
“No right.” He shakes his head. “No right at all. I’m sorry. I truly am sorry.”
“Apology not accepted.” I grab my purse and sling it over my shoulder. He blocks my path to the door. It reminds me of when Ryan tried to stop me after insulting me. “Get out of my way.”
“Please, hear me out.”
“I’m not listening to another word you say. You are truly a Delta dick.” I push past him and throw open the door.
“I’m dying.”
I freeze as my heart drops. Spinning around, I search his eyes. Is he telling the truth? Or is this another way for him to dig at Ryan? Would he actually do something like that? Would anyone lie about something so permanent just to get their way? At this point, I wouldn’t put it past him. “Seriously?”
“I’ve been getting headaches off and on for years and always wrote them off as stress. The blurred vision. The slurred speech. The confusion over everyday things. All of it. I just thought I had too much on my plate. It wasn’t until I collapsed at dinner and was rushed to the hospital that they found it.” He smiled and replaced the handkerchief in his wine-soaked slack’s pocket. “Brain tumor. Inoperable. Doctors give me six months at best. That was three months ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I still hate him but don’t want to see anyone go through the pain and suffering cancer treatments cause for both the patients and those around them.
“I don’t know how to tell him.” His eyes shine with emotion. I swallow thickly as I watch a grown man break down right in front of me. His chin quivers as he inhales sharply. Should I go to him? I was ready to physically beat him a minute ago. Now I want to hug him.
I step inside the mod and close the door behind me. “Does Derek know?”
He nods. “He was with me when we received the diagnosis. He took it better than I thought he would. He’s been so strong. So strong,” he repeats in a whisper.
It clicks. He’s terrified. Terrified Ryan won’t be able to handle the news. Terrified of leaving his sons to deal with everything after he’s gone. Terrified of dying. I hate the man bu
t push my feelings aside. This isn’t about me. This is about Stuart Ryan and his vulnerability. It makes him a little less of a dick. My heart breaks and I go to him, throwing my arms around him and hugging him tight. He stiffens at first, then gives in and accepts my offer.
“Ryan is strong,” I tell him. “The strongest guy I know. He’ll be okay.”
“That’s why I said what I did.” He tightens his hold, and I detect a hint of him trembling. My heart hurts even more. “I won’t be around to save Ryan from himself if he gets in over his head.”
I step out of our embrace. “You don’t have to. He’s an amazing person, Mr. Ryan. Smart. God, he’s so smart. And polite. A true gentleman. He’s the nicest guy on the planet.”
“You really do love him, don’t you?”
“From the minute I met him.” I suck in a breath at the realization. I do. I really do. Oh, God. I love him. I love him and can’t stand the thought of breaking up with him. Screw the DASH. Ryan means more to me than going to some stupid party. I can’t wait to tell him that once he gets home. He’ll be thrilled. I hope.
“That’s all I need to know.” He returns to the couch and glances at the wine stain, the only clean spot where he sat when I threw the drink. “I am so sorry for the way I came across. You had every right to respond the way you did. That’s not me. Well, it is me, but I don’t want it to be me. I want to spend whatever time I have left with my sons and try to make up for being such an asshole—as you so eloquently put it.”
My cheeks heat up. I’m not about to apologize for what I said. Dying or not, he was being an asshole and needed to be called on it. “There are better ways to protect your son than accusing his girlfriend of being a gold digger and trying to trap him.”
“Indeed. Is there any way I can make it up to you?”
“By making it right with Ryan.”
He frowns. “I don’t understand. Make what right with him?”
“Quit shoving this legacy down his throat. He doesn’t want to be a Delta. He’s not a Delta.” Thank God he’s not.
“Of course he’s a Delta,” he counters, looking at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “All male Ryans are Deltas. He didn’t hesitate to pledge the house.”
Reluctant Hero (TREX Rookies Book 1) Page 27
