“I can’t believe how big these tunnels are.”
When I picked her up this morning, I was a little disappointed, not only because she’d patched up that godforsaken air mattress, but because she was wearing a full face of makeup. I wanted to tell her she didn’t need it, that we were going hiking and I wanted to see her left side, but I also didn’t want to start our date on a bad note. Our date. Our first date as Ryan and Colby. It sounds fucking perfect, which actually takes me a little by surprise. Huh.
I had a long night of flying last night, got a few hours of sleep, and picked Ryan up a little past one. She suggested we drive to Hoover Dam for a picnic dinner and a hike around the historical railroad trail that the workers used to build it.
Never in a million years would I have thought of the idea, but it sure as fuck excited me.
“Could you imagine being one of the people who had to dig this tunnel or who had to build Hoover Dam?”
She shakes her head, glancing toward the dirt ceiling, taking it all in. “No way. It’s incredible what they accomplished back then with so much less than what we have today.”
I pull her in close and kiss the side of her head as we continue to walk, a backpack full of food on my back and a backpack with a blanket on hers.
“What was it like flying for the first time?” Ryan asks.
I grin, loving that she’s so interested in my career. It’s not the first question she’s asked since we started dating. Her genuine interest is really fucking cute.
“It was surreal. I had this idea in my head of what it would be like, to finally control a plane, but it was nothing like I thought. I was actually nervous the first time and scared as shit when we landed. Stryder was the same way. We wanted nothing more than to get in that cockpit but after we got out, we practically cried in each other’s arms.”
“No, you didn’t.” She chuckles, tugging on my hand.
“No, we didn’t cry, but fuck . . . it was really nerve-racking up there, being in control. It was like I built this idea in my head of what it was going to be like and when I finally got to do it, it was more like having an out-of-body experience. I can barely remember it. All I remember was feeling claustrophobic and making an incredibly bumpy landing. I got over the claustrophobia really quick.”
“I would say you had no choice.”
I shake my head. “It was something that never bothered me, but I think I was more surprised than anything. I always dreamed of flying but never got to experience it until I got to the Air Force Academy, so I was shocked to say the least. Now I have no issues with it.”
“Was it during the first flight that you became addicted?”
I nod as we make our way out of the tunnel toward another straight-ahead, the rock dirt beneath our shoes cracking with each step. “Yeah. After I got over the initial shock of it all, that I’d actually flown a plane, I couldn’t wait to get back up there.”
“I can’t believe they just let you fly a plane like that.”
I chuckle. “It was a glider. They start you out with a glider and an instructor. You’re not up there by yourself. The glider helps you get the feel for flying and helps you learn how to maneuver the plane at slow speeds.”
“Oh duh.” She shakes her head. “I knew that. There are gliders everywhere, especially during the summer in the Springs. Hey”—her eyes widen in excitement—“maybe I saw you in the sky and never knew it was you.”
That puts a smile on my face. “You could have.”
We make our way to the other tunnel, Ryan gripping my hand tighter, our palms pressing together, our steps in sync. It’s weird to think we met each other over six years ago and yet, here we are, holding hands, dating, in love with each other.
She crept out of nowhere, hooking me faster than I could keep up with, and buried her soul in mine, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Part of me is a little angry it took me so long to see what was right in front of me. Ryan is perfect for me. I don’t need to come up with reasons. She just is. I’ve wanted to apologize for the pain I unintentionally put her through, but knowing Ryan, she’d hate that.
“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we knew each other in high school or even middle school?” I ask. We grew up in the same town and didn’t meet until the party where I met Rory. We grew up in a big city, but to think our paths never crossed is hard to imagine, and yet, it happened with all my close friends from Colorado Springs. I didn’t meet Stryder, Hardie, or Joey until the Air Force Academy, and Rory and Ryan came around my senior year.
“We wouldn’t have been friends in high school, and sure as hell we wouldn’t have been friends in middle school.”
I stop, slightly offended and turn her toward me. Through my aviators, I study her. “Why do you say that?”
She keeps moving forward bringing me with her through the last tunnel where she spots a little section of dirt overlooking Lake Mead and the desert mountains.
Not answering me right away, she takes her backpack off and lays out the blanket, about ten feet away from the trail and in a secluded spot to give us some privacy as the sun starts to set over the mountains. It’s a perfect setting for not only a date, but for the conversation I want to have with her. Whatever she’s hiding, it has to do with her childhood, because she’s mentioned it before, and now I want to hear all about it. I want to know her deeper than what I already know. She’s so guarded. Maybe Rory knows some of her past, but I imagine she’s never let anyone else in long enough to entrust them with something as important as what truly shaped her. Well, I’m much the same really. Only Stryder, Rory, and Bent have any clue about my shitty upbringing. Ryan knows some too.
I help her take a seat on the blanket and join her, putting my backpack to the side and pulling her between my legs where I can wrap my whole body around her as we stare at the lake.
“Are you going to answer me?” I ask, as I brush my cheek against hers.
“Maybe we can drop the conversation and just enjoy the scenery.”
“Or you can talk to me because I love you, and anything you say isn’t going to affect the way I feel about you.”
She turns her head to look at me, tilting back so she can really get a good view. “You know, when I first met you, I never thought I’d hear you say something like that. You were so closed off. I felt bad for Rory, yet here you are, challenging me the same way Rory would challenge me.”
I shrug. “I learned from the best. Now stop avoiding the question and talk to me. I want to know everything about you, Ryan, and that requires you to open up.”
She sighs and sinks into my chest, her head pressing against my shoulder, her arms clasping around mine. I kiss her temple and whisper into her ear, “Come on, baby, share with me.”
She takes a few deep breaths; I know this is hard for her. She seems to be an open person, and to some extent she is, but this is different. “I wasn’t the girl you see now back then.”
“What are you talking about?”
One of her fingers starts slowly rubbing back and forth over my forearm, the touch spreading welcomed goosebumps over my skin. “I grew up in a split household. My dad thought the world of me. He still does. He thinks I’m the most beautiful creature that ever walked the planet. He instilled so much confidence in me that I would walk around proud of who I was.” She shakes her head. “But my mom . . . she had a different idea of who her daughter was. She saw me as a fat girl who was far too confident in her own skin and needed to be brought down to reality.”
“What?” Immediately my skin starts to prickle, anger boiling in the pit of my stomach as my jaw clenches. How the fuck could a mother act that way toward her daughter? God, I hated that my mom was disinterested. Hated that my stepfather was abusive. But I hope to God, her mother didn’t treat her like my stepfather treated me.
“At the time, I didn’t see it, not until I was brought down a few pegs. I was chubby, I wasn’t very pretty, and I didn’t have any friends really. My first true friend was Ro
ry. She never ditched me. She stuck by my side through the thick and thin.” She pushes out a deep breath and continues, “My dad told me over and over again it was only baby fat, that I would grow out of it, but I was still beautiful. He never saw anything wrong with me, which gave me false confidence.”
“False confidence?” I keep my arms wrapped around her, my heart pained for the little girl Ryan describes. I can picture her in my head, and it just about kills me that she was picked on by her own damn mother.
“Middle school was the hardest three years of my life. I was a late bloomer and no matter what I did, I never was able to be the girl I strove to be. I had a little notebook I put together of all the images I wanted to achieve—of the hair I wanted, the outfits, the makeup. I thought if I could be like those girls in the magazines, I could be popular. So I tried and failed miserably. I was picked on, I was called fat, chubby, ugly, and every other word you can imagine from middle school kids. I was bullied day in and day out for splitting my pants, for having a double chin, for eating snacks in classes because I was hungry all the time.”
My stomach churns, my body aching, hollowing out. Why are kids so cruel?
“I had boys say they would go out with me but ended up making out with another girl the next day. I was pushed in the hallway, and boys would bet to see if they could knock me down; cow tip me as they would say.” She grows quiet. “I would come home crying and my mom would tell me to stop letting my dad buy me ice cream, to start working out more, that all the bullying was a direct result of me not trying.”
What in the actual fuck?
The clench of my jaw is so goddamn tight. God, her mom sounds like a bitch. How is Ryan so amazing?
“It got much worse until it got a little better. The end of my sophomore year things started to turn around. I found Rory, we became friends, I finally started to lose weight, and then I learned how to properly apply makeup. It got better, but the words, the taunts, the harassment from classmates and my mom, they’re everlasting. You can’t erase them. Magazines and society, told me what pretty looked like. And it’s not me. And it’s very hard to erase what you perceive as beautiful and see it as something else. You wonder why I wear makeup, why I’m always doing my hair? It’s because when I look in the mirror, I don’t see someone who’s pretty. I see the little girl in middle school with the chubby cheeks, braces, and awkward haircut.”
“Ryan, baby.” I squeeze her tight. “You know that’s not the truth, right? You’re incredibly gorgeous without fake eyelashes, high heels, and makeup. You’re naturally gorgeous.”
Instead of responding, she snuggles her head against my shoulder and closes her eyes, I hope, soaking in the warmth and love I’m trying to give her. We sit there for who knows how long. Time passes, the sun sets, and hikers walk by, their conversations drowning out as they pass.
I know what it’s like to be degraded by a parental figure, told over and over I won’t be good enough. I know the toll it can take on you, but then again, Ted was my stepfather. Ryan is hurting—damaged—suffering from her past, and it fucking scares me, because I don’t want it to hurt our future, not when I finally have her, not when I can finally say she’s mine.
Chapter One Hundred Eight
COLBY
“I don’t think I can do this.” Ryan halts, stopping a few feet from the door.
“You can do this.”
She shakes her head. “No, it’s so awkward. Everyone is going to look at me like I’m the one who ruined everything.”
I take her hand and kiss the back of it, trying to reassure her. “They really aren’t. They are happy for us.”
She puts her hand on her hip and whispers, “They’re happy? You broke off an engagement and are now dating someone a few weeks later. That is so not cool. I look like the mistress.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re not the mistress. The engagement was broken off mutually, and Sage really wants to see you.”
She takes her hand from mine. “I really don’t think we should touch or anything. How about you go in first and I’ll come a few minutes later? Be cool. Casual.”
“That’s not happening.” I tug on her hand. “Come on, let’s get it over with.”
“They’re going to hate me,” she says quickly, and when I turn to face her, I can see the true worry in her eyes—her insecurities—and I’m reminded of the taunting she went through. Does she fear the same behavior from our friends?
Sighing, I bring her in close and kiss the side of her head. “Ryan, if for a second I thought they’d be mean to you in any way, I would never bring you here for a get together. Can you trust me and know I’m here to protect you, not put you in a situation that’s going to make you uncomfortable?”
“I trust you, Colby, I’m just scared.”
“Don’t worry. You’ve got me this go around, and I’ll protect you. It’s what I do best.” I lift her chin and give her a quick kiss on her lips. “Everyone is going to be cool. I promise.”
“Even Balboa?”
I nod. “Even Balboa.” If there is one man I totally feel right with, it’s Balboa. Sage spoke to her brother first and told him it was a mutual decision. She told him she hadn’t felt right about us for some time, and that the preparations for the wedding had felt as though they were for someone else’s wedding. Balboa punched me once in the gut—just because—and then said he was done; he knew I hadn’t been an asshole, and we were cool because his sister was cool. And that’s how it’s done in man world. Ryan has nothing to worry about as far as Balboa is concerned.
She looks over my shoulder to the door. “Okay. Let’s do this. But no touching.”
“It’s not like I’m going to grab your pussy in front of them. I’m just holding your hand.”
“That’s too much. I don’t want to rub it in their faces, and I swear if you grab my pussy in front of them, we are not having sex for months. Months, Brooks.”
My head tilts back as I laugh. “Okay. No grabbing of the pussy but I’m holding your hand. Don’t be ashamed of us.”
She tilts her head. “I’m not ashamed, Colby.”
“Then hold my hand, beautiful.”
I offer my hand, and she takes it without hesitation. Palms connected, her body next to mine, just the way I like it.
I don’t even bother knocking; never really have before since this house is a second home. When we walk through the entryway to the back of the house, I feel the slight tug of her reluctance, but I keep pushing through.
Everyone is in the kitchen so when we appear, holding hands, the room falls silent. Ryan stiffens next to me, tries desperately to release the grip I have on her hand, but I hold on tight. Sage is cooking a giant pot of what looks to be pasta sauce, with an apron wrapped around her thin waist. When she looks up, she studies us for a second, her eyes scanning us, pausing on our hands.
For a brief second, I worry, but that’s quickly washed away when Sage smiles a bright smile, puts down her wooden spoon, and says, “Ah, you guys are here.” She walks up to us and gives me a hug before turning to Ryan and wrapping both arms around her. Tentative at first, Ryan returns the hug but quickly falls into it when Sage grips her tightly.
“It’s about time, asshole,” Colt says, rubbing his stomach. “I’m starving.”
“You ate a slice of pizza on your drive over here,” Bent says, blowing his cover.
“Because I’m starving.” Colt rolls his eyes dramatically.
Rowdy is sitting in the corner, a disgruntled look on his face and drinking a beer, while Balboa is playing with a yo-yo, doing ridiculous tricks that will annoy just about anyone.
“Ah, I’m so happy you guys made it. Garlic bread is in the oven, pasta is ready, and the meat sauce is simmering. I think we’re ready. It’s self-serve. Colt, you’re last because you will take way too much.”
Sage steps to the side, takes out the garlic bread, and motions to the plates. “Go on, start serving yourself.
No one moves, so I take the initiati
ve to grab plates for Ryan and me. We walk down the assembly line and snag some dinner before taking our plates into the living room to sit down.
“Want a drink?” I ask her.
“Water is fine.” She’s still being shy and not herself. I want to lift her lips to mine and tell her once again everything is fine, but I’m afraid she’ll punch me in the balls if I touch her.
So instead, I walk into the kitchen and talk as quietly as I can to everybody. “Hey”—I gather their attention—“Ryan is worried you all hate her because we’re together now, so can you reassure her that that’s not the case?”
“She does?” Sage asks, her face falling. “Oh, that’s going to be fixed. Boys, put down your plates, we need to go tell Ryan how much we love her.”
“Sage, that’s not—”
She snaps her fingers and the boys follow her, as if she’s the leader of the pack. What the hell just happened?
I follow behind with bottles of water in hand.
“Ryan, we don’t hate you,” Sage announces when she gets to the living room. I cringe as Ryan’s head snaps toward me, murder beaming from her eyes. Thanks a lot, Sage.
“I didn’t say you hated me. Jesus, Colby, what did you say to them? I was just nervous that maybe I wasn’t welcome anymore, that this might be awkward for everyone.”
“It’s not.”
“Nope.”
“Not even a little.”
“Feels right.”
The guys add in their two cents, Sage following after. “I always thought you and Colby had a strong connection, Ryan. I was never jealous of it. I thought it was a beautiful friendship. When I started to consider that maybe Colby and I weren’t a perfect match, I began to realize that you two were. I’m excited about you two being together. Colby and I split on good terms. Is it a little awkward that I know what he looks like naked? Sure.” My face blushes as Balboa rolls his eyes and mutters something under his breath. “But that will wear off. I don’t want you thinking you’re not welcome. We’re seriously good. No bad blood between us. You’re a good friend, and I want to keep it that way.”
The Duets Page 88