Rumors: Emerson & Ryder

by Rachael Brownell

  Nodding, Ian stands and waves as he leaves. His final parting words play in my head on repeat. He finally gets it. He lost me. I didn’t leave him for someone else. I’m not the reason our relationship ended the way it did, he was. He’s accepting responsibility for his action.

  “He gets it,” I whisper to myself.

  “That’s great, but what about us?”

  “There’s still an us, Ryder. I’m not saying I’m going to pick up a stranger at the bar and bring him home. I’m not interested in being with anyone else. I’m just saying that I need to find myself again and make sure I know who I am before we get serious. Do you understand?”

  Letting out a huff, Ryder smiles at me weakly. “I do.”

  “You should do the same. You were with Megan longer than Ian and I were together. I’m sure there are things about yourself that you’ve forgotten. She was a huge part of your life. When you’re in a relationship like that, you lose a part of who you are to become the person they need. Nothing’s wrong with that, but I want you to be you. I want to need you, not the version of you that Megan needed.”

  Rolling his neck, Ryder lets out a grunt.

  Standing, he bends down and kisses me on the lips, gently at first. His passion grows, and in an instant I’m sitting on the edge of the table, my legs between his.

  When he finally pulls away, I’m left breathless.

  “I want you to think about that kiss while you’re finding yourself. Make no mistake, I’m the person I’ve always been, and I want to be the person you need because I need you, Emerson. I already know who you are, I like who you are, and today when you were taking charge, I fell a little harder for you. So I need you to figure this out quick, and I’ll do the same. Come tomorrow night, when we’re alone, in my house, after all the guests leave, I’d like to be able to put a title on this thing we have going on. If that’s okay with you of course.”

  “Uh huh,” I mumble, my heart still beating wildly in my chest.

  Alone. In his house.

  That’s all I can think about as I crawl under the covers and close my eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Ryder just texted me,” I say, shaking Angela in an attempt to wake her. Justine and Allison talked her into going out last night and I heard her stumble home about three o’clock this morning. They invited me, of course, but I politely declined. I have to be around them tonight, and that’ll be more than enough time spent with them outside the office for one week. “He’s headed to pick up Tyler. You need to get up and we need to get moving.”

  “Five more minutes,” she grumbles, rolling away from me.

  “We need to leave in half an hour if we’re going to have enough time to set up.”

  “Fine, but I need—”

  Cutting her off, I shove a cup of coffee in her face.

  “Have I mentioned how much I love having you here?” she asks, eagerly grabbing for the cup. Pulling it out of reach, I smile and shake my head.

  “You can have this after you shower,” I say, leaving her room, ignoring her protests. A pillow lands at my feet as I step into the hallway. “You need to work on your aim.”

  “You suck!”

  I do. I’m a horrible friend right now, but if she wants her coffee, she’s going to get her ass in the shower and get moving. This party is for her boyfriend. It was her idea. I’m only here to help her, and if withholding coffee until she’s back on schedule is what it takes, that’s what I’m going to do. She’ll thank me later.

  The shower comes to life and the bathroom door slams closed moments later. As soon as I’m sure she’s moving, I head into my room to gather my things.

  Costume – check.

  Makeup – check.

  Shoes – check.

  What else do I need? Maybe a toothbrush just in case the food makes my breath smell.

  Heading into the bathroom, I knock once and wait for Angela to holler for me to enter. When she doesn’t, I knock again and wait. Opening the door, I’m surprised there’s no pile of clothing on the floor.

  “Looking for me?” Angela asks from behind me.

  When I turn, I find her leaning against the wall, sipping her coffee.

  “You cheater,” I say.

  “What do you mean? I’m up, I’m about to shower. That has to count for something.”

  “If you say so. Clock’s ticking,” I reply, slipping past her with my toothbrush in hand.

  “What’s that for? Planning on staying overnight?”

  Shit! Is that what this looks like?

  “No,” I stutter. “It’s for bad breath after eating your crazy food concoctions.”

  “If that’s your story,” she retorts, closing the bathroom door.

  I’m not staying the night. That wouldn’t be slowing our relationship down at all. That’s actually the opposite of moving slow, and I hope Ryder knows that. I hope he doesn’t ask me. A few drinks and his sexy body will have me wanting to stay the night. Maybe I shouldn’t drink?

  He did hint at it, though. Us, alone. Should I bring more than just my toothbrush?

  What if he wants to take our relationship to the next level tonight? He knows how I feel, that we should slow down, but he made it obvious that he doesn’t agree.

  It’s been week since Ian and I have been together, even longer since we’ve been intimate. What about him and Megan? I’m sure it’s been just as long for him. If not longer. He knew she was cheating. I doubt he would have jumped at the opportunity to have sex with her after she’d been with another man.

  Am I assuming too much?

  I am. I need to—

  “Stop overthinking it,” Angela says as we pull up to Ryder’s house, her words finishing my thoughts.

  “I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are. I can see the wheels turning. You face is spazzing out, going between happy and devious to scared and reluctant. Everything is going to be fine.”

  “Nothing is wrong,” I protest.

  “Exactly. Nothing is wrong, so stop trying to imagine that something is going to go wrong. Now, help me with the last of the groceries and let’s get started.”

  Unlocking the door to Ryder's house feels weird. Rummaging through his refrigerator is awkward. Opening his closets to pull out decorations feels like an invasion of his privacy. Sure, he knows we’re here and what we’re doing, but the only other time I’ve been here, he was with us.

  As I search his home office for a pair of scissors, I pretend I’m at work. That would be normal. Being in his office without him around. Borrowing a pair of scissors. Digging through desk drawers.

  This… this is anything but normal.

  Sure, we made out in an elevator. We’ve spent a lot of time together over the past few weeks. We’re getting to know each other better. We’re building something, hopefully. It takes two for that to happen.

  Yet, as I look around his office, getting glimpses into his past, I realize there’s a lot we still have to discover about each other. There are things he’s never shared with me. We haven’t spent enough time together yet.

  For a moment, I compare it to reading a book. The story of his life in pictures.

  Running my fingers along each frame, I see the growth of his relationship with Megan. From college pictures to their wedding to the birth of Amara. Moving along, I watch as she grows into an adorable little girl, surrounded by her parents.

  What most people wouldn’t notice is the subtle change in Ryder’s stance. Or the look in his eye as their relationship progresses through time. At first, they’re filled with excitement, his smile bringing out his dimple. Over time, his smile becomes forced, not reaching his eyes. Their wedding picture is the last time I see real happiness in any of the pictures of him and Megan.

  It makes my heart ache for him. For the life he was living.

  Smiling, I softly close the door behind me, gripping the scissors in my hand, as I take one last look around the room.

  Angela begins working on the food while I
start decorating the living room, kitchen and back patio. The weather is cool today, but we’re hoping for a clear night so we can move the party outside. Ryder has a large fire pit in his backyard that would be great to congregate around.

  The doorbell chimes as I’m hanging the last of the orange and black streamers. Heading to the front door, I look out the glass pane to see a man, a few years older than me, waiting patiently on the front porch. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt left untucked, he appears harmless.

  Ryder’s warning to “be careful” floats through my mind.

  “Who is it?” Angela asks, coming around the corner, her hands covered in something red and sticky looking.

  “A guy I don’t recognize.”

  “It’s probably one of Ryder’s friends. Let him in.”

  “Are you sure? Is he expecting people?”

  “We invited about twenty or thirty people tonight. Some are coming from out of town, so it might be one of them. Just open the door,” she urges.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I pull the door open and I’m greeted with a huge smile.

  “You must be Emerson,” he says. “I’m Devon, Ryder’s best friend.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I reply as I nervously reach out to shake his waiting hand.

  “You too. I’ve heard a lot about you.” I nod, unsure how to respond to that. When I don’t reply, he continues, “Can I come in?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, please come in.”

  Stepping aside, Devon crosses the threshold, dropping a duffel bag in the corner as he shuts the door behind him.

  “What can I help with?” he asks, rubbing his hands together.

  Devon, Angela, and I are laughing twenty minutes later when the doorbell chimes again. Devon offers to answer it, rescuing me from another awkward moment with someone I don’t know.

  The kitchen is full of helping hands as the last of the guests begin to arrive. Justine and Allison showed up to help an hour ago, already in full costume, or lack thereof. If they’re trying to attract attention, it’s working. Every man in the room is having a hard time keeping their eyes to themselves.

  Tyler’s parent’s, Herman and Margie, along with Hunter and his wife Brianna arrive right after them. They’ve been the most helpful since the girls arrived. This is my first time meeting Brianna, but right away I could tell I was going to like her. She’s soft spoken and sweet, but you can tell by the glares she’s sending to Justine and Allison that she’s also biting her tongue.

  Checking the clock, I notice time to change and get ready for the party. Ryder sent me a text twenty minutes ago that they were going to be back in an hour. They’re only running behind by about ten minutes, which is perfect since we’re still waiting on a few more people to arrive.

  “Where should I change?” I ask Angela, grabbing my bag from the hall closet.

  “Just change in Ryder’s room. I’ll be right behind you. I need your help with my wig.”

  Ryder’s room. Sure. Because of all the rooms in this massive house, that’s the one room that I was hoping she wouldn’t suggest. How about a bathroom? There have to be at least three of them. What about a guest bedroom? Devon claimed one of them and Tyler’s friend Declan claimed the other. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind, though.

  “It’s fine, Em,” Angela whispers in my ear when she notices me hesitate.

  Nodding, I pull my bag high on my shoulder and head down the adjacent hall. All the doors except two are wide open. Opening the first, I instantly know I’m in the wrong place. There’s a white four-post bed with pink and teal sheets. In the corner are an enormous dollhouse and a massive display of dolls.

  This must be Amara’s room. Unless Ryder enjoys playing with dolls, which I doubt unless Amara is playing with him. I can see that happening. Him, sitting on the carpet, making the dolls talk, acting out an entire performance, just for his daughter. The thought makes me smile as I slowly close the door and turn to continue down the hall.

  Standing in front of the only other closed door, I take a deep breath before reaching for the handle. Opening it, I’m surprised to find nothing but a mattress in the middle of the floor and two laundry basket’s overflowing with clothes in the corner. This can’t be Ryder’s room, can it? Why doesn’t he have any furniture?

  “Wow!” Angela says from behind me. “Megan must have taken as much as she could.”

  I forgot she moved out yesterday. I wonder what else she took? The rest of the house looks fully furnished. Maybe this was her last attempt to kick him in the balls. Take the furniture but leave him with the mattress. I hope she didn’t cheat on him with someone on that mattress. That would be wrong on more levels than I can count.

  “I guess so,” I reply, officially entering the room, inhaling the familiar smell of his aftershave. Confirmation I’m definitely in the right room.

  Quickly changing, I pull on my black and silver flapper dress and slip into a pair of peep-toe heels to match. Angela’s talking my ear off as she changes while I attempt to curl my hair and pin it back into a decade-appropriate style. I’ve always been fascinated with the style of the 1920s, so when I saw this dress hanging in Angela’s closet, I couldn’t resist.

  “What do you think?” I ask, fluttering into the room and spinning for Angela, the beading on the dress sparkling in the light.

  “Nice,” she replies flatly.

  “That’s all I get? Nice?”

  “Well, I knew you would play it safe, so I may have brought a few things to help you spice things up,” she informs me, pulling a pair of ankle-breaking high heels from her bag and tossing them at me. My eyes must have grown bigger than I thought because she giggles and tosses a piece of cloth my direction next.

  “What’s this?” I attempt to untangle the material until I realize what it is. “Um, no. I don’t need these.”

  “Put the stockings on. Put the shoes on. Ryder will lose his mind when he sees you.”

  “That’s not what I was going for. I prefer to be low key.”

  “I know, but not tonight. My party, my rules.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since I said so. Now, put those on and then come over here and help me with this wig.” If her demand wasn’t clear, the look on her face is. She’s not taking no for an answer.

  Rolling my eyes, I slip into both and stand. The stockings are thigh high, the lacy tops barely covered by the hem of the dress. They’re a great compliment to the dress and make me feel sexier, the exact reason I didn’t buy any to go with the dress.

  The shoes are a different story. I don’t fall on my ass immediately. It’s not until I try to walk over to help Ang that I feel unsteady in the heels, reaching out for the wall to keep me upright. A few trips around the room and I’m more comfortable.

  After numerous failed attempts, I holler down the hall for reinforcements. Angela’s wig is not cooperating, and we don’t have much time before we need to shut the lights down and get into position. Ryder and Tyler are fifteen minutes away.

  Of course, Allison is the first to come to the rescue.

  “Nice costume,” she says, sashaying past me and into the room. Her low-cut police officer uniform is skin tight, the foe-leather squeaking as she moves. I’m worried that if she takes a deep breath her boobs are going to pop out. Maybe that’s the look she was going for. I wouldn’t be surprised.

  Allison pins Angela’s wig on in record time, completing her costume. I never would have thought Angela would have chosen a Harley Quinn costume, but it looks amazing on her. She has the perfect body for it, filling it out in all the right places. Her ass looks amazing, and I have a feeling Tyler is going to have a hard time keeping his hands to himself tonight.

  All the lights are off. Tyler’s family and friends are crouched down in position. When we see the headlights of Ryder’s truck pull in the driveway, Angela hushes everyone and the house falls silent. The only sound is Ryder’s laugh as they walk up and the slide of his key in the lock. When
the door opens, I hit the lights and everyone jumps up and yells “Surprise.”

  Through the crowd, I find Ryder. When our eyes meet, I see the fire burning in his. It’s vibrant and bright and full of excitement. He looks more like the man in the pictures hanging on the walls of his office than he has since I met him. The thought alone causes heat to build inside of me.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Where’s your costume?” I ask as he grabs my hand and pulls me from the room.

  Ryder pushed his way through the crowd in record time, not stopping to say hello to anyone. A few people attempted to grab his attention to no avail. He was one-hundred percent focused on me, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “I’m wearing it,” he replies, leading me into the bathroom and closing the door.

  “And what exactly are you supposed to be?”

  Backing up slowly, Ryder matches me step for step until my ass is pressed against the counter. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, his shirt tightening and stretching to accommodate it as much as possible.

  “A professional golfer.”

  “Very original.”

  Trapping me against the counter with his body, Ryder leans down, completely ignoring my comment, and asks permission to kiss me. The heat from his body and the feel of his chest brushing against mine has my heart racing in my chest. Unable to speak, I nod my head as he captures my lips.

  His hands travel the length of my body from my waist to my cheeks as he gently devours me with his mouth. Feeling as though I’m going to collapse from pleasure, I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on tight, deepening our kiss.

  Moving swiftly, Ryder lifts me and places me on the counter, stepping between my legs. As he presses against me, a moan escapes, muffled by our kiss. Wrapping my legs around his waist, Ryder grunts before slowly pulling away.

  “We’re going to get caught if I don’t stop now,” he says, helping me off the counter, not letting go until he’s certain I won’t topple over in my heels.

  “I thought you didn’t care.”