“Thanks,” he said to me. No smile. No wink. Just a gruff thanks and he took his son away from me. Which was probably for the best. I didn’t have any experience with kids beyond the few short hours I’d held my son, and it wouldn’t do me any favors to get attached to someone else’s kid now.
I nodded, all too aware of Ethan’s size now that he was right next to me, and backed away to let him deal with Carter on his own. Ethan pounded him gently on the back while the boy held his arms up in the air. In no time, the choking had stopped, but not the giggling.
“Do it again,” he begged.
Before I could get out of the pool and find something to cover myself with, though, it was like the floodgates had opened. Drew’s backyard filled with what must be the majority of his hockey team, along with their wives, girlfriends, and kids. Even London showed up, her husband wheeling her out to a place under the shade of an enormous umbrella while she bounced their tiny baby, and my lungs closed up completely.
I couldn’t do this. Being around Carter had been more than enough already, but being around a newborn…
I wasn’t ready.
I doubted I’d ever be ready.
Tears stung my eyes, but the last thing I needed to do was start crying. That would only draw more attention to me, when all I wanted to do was disappear into the background, slip off of their radars so I could really disappear.
There were so many people, and I didn’t know any of them but Drew and Carter, and honestly, how well did I know either of them? But there was nowhere for me to hide. Any chance for running I might have had before the arrival of so many strangers had already slipped through my fingers.
More of the men and kids were making their way to the pool, so I grabbed Snoopy’s ball and guided him toward the shallower end, since it looked like they were starting up a human cannonball competition in the deep water. I figured I could keep him out of harm’s way, and maybe—if I was lucky—they wouldn’t notice me.
I didn’t know how realistic it was to think they wouldn’t all be staring at my purple dreads, but I was going to do my damnedest to pretend I didn’t exist.
One of the mothers—a tall, athletic-looking blonde—brought a couple of smaller children over near me, fitting floaties on their arms and putting a couple of inflatable, kid-sized rafts in the water.
I tried to melt into the pool. So far, so good. She was more focused on the children than she was on me.
She put the youngest one—a boy, who looked to be about a year old—on the first raft.
The older boy wasn’t having it, though. “I can swim, Mommy,” he shouted. “Wike Emmy.”
“Mm hmm. Emily is a lot older than you, and she’s been taking swimming lessons for two summers already,” she said, calm as could be. She picked the little boy up again and tried to set him in the second raft, but he kicked too hard for the mother to complete the transfer.
Before the blond woman could sort it out, Snoopy took the opportunity and ran with it. He swam out of my reach and climbed onto the inflatable toy, then curled up in a ball like it was meant to be for him.
The mother took one look at that, burst out laughing, and gave up trying to get her son onto the contraption. “Guess you’re going to have to figure it out on your own, Ryan. Somebody stole your raft.”
I reached for Snoopy, but he barked in complaint. “I can get him—”
“No, it’s fine,” she said, shaking her head. “My husband seemed to think it was a great idea to skip nap time and come out for a pool party, is all. I think that makes today a great time to turn this little stinker over to his father.” She glanced in the other direction before turning back to me and angling her head toward the younger boy, who was happily floating along with a tiny pair of shades protecting his eyes and a Tulsa Thunderbirds baseball cap covering his head. “You mind keeping an eye on Patrick for me? It’ll just be a minute. I’ll be right back once I drop Mr. Cranky Pants off with my husband.”
In too much shock to do anything else, I shrugged. She took that as my agreement. But then I was alone with a baby. A little boy. He was much bigger than my son had been the last time I’d seen him, but I couldn’t help but think they’d be similar in age right now. My son was probably a few months younger.
Did his family take him to the pool and let him float on a raft? Would he be scared of the water? The weight of my guilt acted like an anchor and threatened to pull me under. If I didn’t snap out of it, and fast, I’d flood the pool with my tears.
The mother returned only moments later, just as she’d promised. She leaned against the edge of the pool and gently splashed the water onto her son’s raft.
He giggled, and something strangely fuzzy took root in my chest. I’d heard more giggles today than I could remember hearing since I was a child. That only made me want to run even more than before. Because I loved the sound of his laughter and that of the other children here, and it was more than I knew how to handle.
“Thanks for that,” the blonde said before I could make my escape. “I’m Dana Zellinger. Eric’s wife.” The way she said it made it seem as if I was supposed to have a clue who she was, but Drew and I didn’t have that sort of a relationship. I wasn’t sure what, if anything, he’d told them about me, but I didn’t know a damned thing about any of them.
We’d have to mean something to each other to talk about our lives outside of the bed. Obviously, things hadn’t progressed to that point, and I doubted they ever would.
But she kept looking at me with an amused expression and a raised brow. Right. Because, after introducing herself, it would make sense for me to do the same.
“Ravyn,” I choked out, hoping that was enough. Because I didn’t think I could form more words than that.
And besides, what was I? Drew’s…friend with benefits? Although, I wasn’t sure we were even quite to the stage of friends. We mainly had sex and nothing else.
But she smiled, not demanding an explanation, and went back to playing with her child.
And he kept laughing. God, his laugh was like a vise around my chest. My heart ached, and my lungs collapsed, and I didn’t think I would ever hurt worse than I did at this very moment. The pain was both physical and emotional, made worse by the fact that I was empty inside. There was no softness in me to absorb the blow. I consisted solely of jagged edges and rusty gouges.
I blinked hard, trying to keep my tears at bay. The older kids and the men at the other end of the pool appeared to be having a belly flop contest, which kept them occupied. Snoopy was already fast asleep, soaking up the sun as he floated along in his raft. No one was paying any attention to me at all, which, as far as I was concerned, was perfect.
With one more glance around to be sure no one was watching, I carefully climbed out of the pool and headed back toward the house. On my way, I snatched a dry towel from the table where London was seated.
She’d been smiling into the face of her newborn, but her head whipped around as I darted past her. “Hey, Ravyn,” she called after me, but I didn’t slow down.
I couldn’t do this.
I. Could. Not. Do. This.
Not any of it. I couldn’t be around Drew’s friends as though I belonged with people like this, who had big family gatherings and pool parties with friends and cooked out, who could smile and laugh and go on with their lives as if the world wasn’t a shitty place to be, who were healthy and happy. I couldn’t sit and watch all these perfect families with their perfect children and listen to them having a good time. I couldn’t look after someone’s baby and pretend I was normal and sane and whole.
Because I wasn’t.
I wasn’t normal. I definitely wasn’t sane. And I didn’t think I’d ever been whole—certainly not anytime in the last decade—and there was no way I ever would be now. How could I be, when a piece of me was somewhere else, and I’d never know how he was or if he was happy and healthy and whole?
Wrapping the towel around me, I hurried through the kitchen, hoping the laund
ry room was somewhere in that direction. The tile floor was cold beneath my wet feet, and I shivered from the blast of air conditioning that wrapped around my limbs and seeped under my skin. I opened what I hoped was the right door and said a silent prayer of thanks that it was.
Drew had apparently taken my clothes out of the dryer already. My T-shirt and jeans were on hangers, and my underthings had been folded and set on a shelf. I grabbed the bra and panties, then tugged the other things off their hangers and headed back through the kitchen. I could change in his bathroom, find my shoes wherever I’d kicked them off in his bedroom, bring the wet clothes back into the laundry room and leave them in the washer, and then slip out the front door.
But Drew’s voice stopped me before I could close the door to his room. “Ravyn,” he called after me. “You okay?”
That was exactly the problem, which was why I was getting out of there as fast as possible. I wasn’t even remotely okay, and I didn’t have any reason to believe I ever would be. Definitely not the sort of okay that would allow me to fit into his world, if that were even something he’d want.
For some reason unknown to me, though, I slowly turned so I could face him, water dripping from my clothes to puddle on his hardwoods. Damn. I’d need to dry that up before I could leave. I opened my mouth to tell him I was fine, but nothing came out but a puff of air.
Then he closed the distance between us, concern etching a line across his forehead. He reached up and tucked one of my dreadlocks behind my ear, like it was the most natural thing he could ever do, and I had to fight off the urge to lean my cheek into his touch and rub against his palm. But that wouldn’t help anything. It would only make walking out of his life more difficult. So I stood there, trying to remember how to speak.
“I didn’t know they were all coming,” he said. “It was as much a surprise to me as it was for you. I’m sorry. I know you didn’t sign up for this, but they’re not going to stick around too much lon—”
“I can’t be here,” I cut in, my panic taking over. “I have to go.” But my legs refused to move. It was like the water was freezing solid as soon as it left my body and landed on the floor, turning me into an ice sculpture. I couldn’t move, not even an inch.
Drew studied me for a long moment, like he was trying to figure out what was going on in my head. But even I didn’t know what was going on in my head. And then he nodded. “All right. If you need me to take you back—”
“No, you need to stay here.”
“I can leave for a bit to drive you to your car or wherever you need to go. It’ll be fine. They can manage on their own. They don’t need me.”
But it wasn’t fine. And there was nothing that could make it fine.
Because I didn’t know anything about my baby other than he wasn’t with me. No matter what I did, no matter how I tried to plug the hole in my heart and fill it up, new leaks would spring and the stuffing would melt and drain back out again faster than before. So what was the point in trying anymore?
“I’m just going to walk,” I said, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “It’ll be good for me.”
“Walk?” Drew repeated. He shook his head. “The community center is eight miles from here. That’s a hell of a lot more than just a walk.”
I shrugged, trying to back away from him. But apparently I didn’t think about the fact that I was moving farther into his room. He followed me in and closed the door behind us, and then we were alone.
Despite knowing that wasn’t what he intended, I felt utterly and completely trapped.
Which left me jumpy.
Not what I needed right now.
I’d been trying to hold the dry clothes away from my body so they wouldn’t get soaked, but I kept bringing them closer to me as he closed the distance between us. Apparently, I’d just have to walk home in wet clothes, because I couldn’t stay here long enough to dry them again.
“Something tells me this isn’t about my teammates showing up without warning,” he said quietly. “Wanna talk about it?”
If I spoke right now, I’d just fall apart. So I shook my head.
He sighed. It sounded resigned and pained at once. “Can you let me help you with whatever it is?”
There was no help for me. I knew that better than I knew my own name.
Drew dragged a hand down his face, frustration bunching the muscles of his shoulders. “Do you have someone who can be with you, at least?” he finally asked. “I don’t think you should be alone right now.”
I shrugged again. The truth was, there weren’t that many people in my life these days. When I’d run away with Jax as a teenager, the only friends we’d had were our friends, not my friends. And they had all been part of the problem, taking him deeper and deeper into the drug-induced haze where he now existed. When I’d left him, I’d left all of them behind, too.
I had Rick and Shannon, but they had their own family to worry about, and I didn’t like to keep showing up and asking them for more help. They’d already done more than enough. More than most people would. They didn’t need another burden, and that was all I could be to them.
I’d thought about keeping in touch with some of the other people I’d met in my stints in the loony bin, but they were just as fucked up as I was. Probably not the best people for me to lean on if they couldn’t look after themselves any better than I did.
“I’ll be fine,” I bit off, determined to make him believe it. To make myself believe it.
But I didn’t, and neither did he.
Drew kissed me on the forehead. “Go put on your clothes and give me ten minutes. I’m driving you home, and then I’ll stay with you.”
“You’ll what?” I asked, but he’d already left the bedroom and closed the door behind him, leaving me numb with shock.
RAVYN’S APARTMENT WAS tiny and tidy. There wasn’t any need for a grand tour, because I could see everything in a single sweeping glance. One wall housed her hyper-organized closet, her impossibly small bathroom, and what passed as a kitchen. There wasn’t a door to the closet, but she’d hung a curtain on a tension rod to provide some privacy. Apparently she hadn’t thought to drag it closed before leaving, though, because I could see the stacks of canvases and bins that undoubtedly housed art supplies. The rest of the apartment consisted of a single room. Every piece of furniture appeared to serve multiple purposes. The bed was a futon, so it doubled as a couch. The coffee table had drawers all around. A shelf along one wall had several cabinet-style doors and a number of those cloth baskets that slid in and out so she could store things within easy reach but still keep them out of sight.
I was a big guy in general, but seated next to her on the futon, I felt gargantuan.
She was still vibrating, much like she had been when I’d followed her inside after my teammates’ arrival for an impromptu convince-Drew-he’s-still-part-of-the-family-and-we-need-him-on-the-team pool party.
I appreciated the gesture, but they had the shittiest timing ever.
Right now, they might think I was trying to run and hide. Not too many months ago, I had been doing exactly that, but this time that wasn’t the case. I would’ve stayed—and I would’ve enjoyed hanging out with them—but Ravyn needed me, and that was more important.
Well, she needed someone. And I was available. And willing. So I’d nominated myself, because I didn’t get the sense she was in the right frame of mind to come up with someone on her own. Assuming she had someone she could turn to. I wasn’t convinced.
She hadn’t said a word the whole way back to the community center to pick up her car. In the parking lot, she’d tried to convince me to go back to my guests, but I hadn’t given in. I told her I’d left the keys with Huggy Bear and instructed him to lock up when everyone went home. He could hold on to my keys for the time being.
Only a couple of days ago, things had apparently been bad enough that Ravyn had felt the need to physically harm herself; I wasn’t going to be the asshole who left her alone so she could do it
again. What if she did more than cut herself this time? What if she went too far, and there was no one close enough to come to her aid? What if she didn’t get help in time?
There were too many what-ifs, and I didn’t like the potential answers to any of them. Maybe that meant I already cared more about Ravyn than I should. Sue me. The only person who was likely to get hurt from caring too much in a situation like this was me.
So I’d ignored her arguments and followed her back to her apartment, and now we were sitting on her couch in silence.
It wasn’t the silence that had me on edge, though. I could deal with not talking.
The problem was that Ravyn was just this side of a complete breakdown. I knew because of the way she kept fighting back tears and the way she jumped any time I moved.
I knew because I’d been there myself, and frankly, it hadn’t been all that long ago.
I wanted to wrap her up in my arms and tell her everything would be okay. But that was a promise I couldn’t make—no one could—and I didn’t want to feed her lies. Chances were high that she’d already heard more than enough of those to last a lifetime. They were even higher that she was the one lying to herself more than anyone else ever could.
But I could wrap her up in my arms.
So I did. I drew her onto my lap and held her close.
Ravyn went as rigid as a board at first, but after a minute she relaxed into me, nestling her face in the space between my shoulder and my neck and letting her hands rest on my ribs. The scent of the chlorine was still strong in her hair and on her skin. It tickled my nose when she snuggled closer to me.
I traced soothing circles on her back and arms, needing to comfort her in order to calm myself. At first, she melted, all the tension oozing out of her body as she fell against me. We fit together like two perfect puzzle pieces, her curves seamlessly filling the empty spaces of my body, my angles blending with her curves. But then she was touching me, too—her small hands raking my abs with increasing urgency, her hips relentlessly shifting over mine.
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