Unlike Ryan, I did shudder. Multiple times. Ryan took the glass from me, watching me closely. I made a face at him. “That is so incredibly vile! What the hell is wrong with you? Jesus, get me some water.”
“No, you can’t have water for at least thirty minutes. It will dilute the beneficial effects.”
I did a double take as I crawled to the edge of the bed to make my escape. “You know, for a man of science who lived for months in low earth orbit in order to conduct important scientific research, you sure do hold to old wives’ tales.”
“It works. I know from personal experience.”
“Anecdotal evidence.” I shuffled off the bed in a huff trying to suppress the follow-up gagging as I hobbled on my injured ankle toward the bathroom. It was much sorer today, and there was fairly large and dark bruise around the area I’d scraped. “And as you know, it’s faulty and proves nothing.”
“No water, Gray,” he called through the bathroom door as I shut it. I opened it up again and blew him a big old raspberry, then slammed it.
Before even going pee—which I had to do urgently—I managed to brush my teeth to get that gross taste out of my mouth.
As I used the toilet and washed my hands, I couldn’t help but notice the shambles we’d left the bathroom in last night after Ryan patched up my ankle. The floor was covered in discarded, bloody clothes and towels, including Ryan’s pants and the shirt that had been used as a bandage around my ankle—and was now summarily soaked in scary amounts of my dried blood. No wonder he’d freaked out.
The laundry area was tucked behind a closet door in this very bathroom, so in order to keep my mind off of not being able to drink water, I gathered everything up to put into the washing machine for a good long soak.
I systematically emptied pockets. There was nothing in my jeans, but his pants were weighted down by something bulky. I yanked his phone out of the pocket and it illuminated. Turning to set it on the counter before tossing the pants into the washer, I hesitated, noticing that he had five missed calls and some messages from a contact named Karebear.
Automatically my eyes drifted to the top of the updates while wondering how the heck he was getting texts and calls up here. The reception bar clearly said, NO SERVICE. The top text was dated the day before and read:
KareBear: How’s Tahoe? We had a great day, but I’m worried about not hearing from you. Have to admit I can’t stop thinking about the other night.
My stomach did a sick sort of dip, and I yanked the phone away from my gaze before succumbing to the temptation to read the rest. Placing the phone facedown on the counter, I tossed his pants into the cold water with the other clothing and the towels. I had no hope of saving the shirt—it was pretty darn bloody—but I threw it in there just in case.
It occurred to me that he must have received all those updates when we were down at the lakeside yesterday evening. Maybe there was a small bubble of cell reception there. I hadn’t had my phone with me, nor had I really felt the need to check. Obviously he hadn’t checked, or he would have seen all those phone calls and texts from KareBear.
A strange lump formed in my throat as I tried not to think about what that text meant. Likely KareBear was Karen, who had been living with him for the past three weeks.
And she couldn’t “stop thinking about the other night.” Had something happened between them? Something ugly clamped around my chest and made it hard to breathe.
Was Ryan seeing Karen romantically?
Part of me was dying to look at the rest of them, but the stronger part of me knew that he deserved his privacy and I was not in a position where I could be snoopy.
I grabbed his phone and left the bathroom.
He was standing in the bedroom in a pair of jeans but was still gloriously shirtless and showing off his flawless male beauty without any effort at all.
I tried averting my eyes as I cleared my throat. “I put all our bloody clothes in the washer to soak, and I found this in your pants.”
He took the phone from my hand but immediately set it down on the nightstand without looking at it. Then he excused himself to use the bathroom.
Me? I couldn’t tear my eyes from that damn phone. I stood there and stared at it the entire time he was gone, wondering what to do. Dammit.
A strange sort of hurt and heaviness wrapped itself around my heart. I hated not knowing about something important going on in his life. I hated being on the outside of what was going on with him.
But…but…
It was none of my business. Double dammit.
Then I came to a decision with a sharp nod about three seconds before he stepped back into the room muttering something about trying to get a hold of Keely on the landline so we could make our escape home.
I turned to face him, my fists balled at my sides. “When I pulled your phone out of your pocket, I couldn’t help but notice a ton of updates on it. Texts and missed calls. Someone named KareBear is really trying to get a hold of you.”
A strange expression crossed his face. Was that concern? I steeled myself as he bent to scoop up his phone. “How is that possible? There’s no reception here.”
“Probably when we were down at the lake last night.”
He unlocked his phone and glanced over the text messages. His face was blank as he returned the phone to the nightstand.
I stared at him expectantly though I had no right to expect anything. When he didn’t say anything, I asked, “Is everything okay?”
He flicked a glance at me and then ran a hand through his hair, walking over to the huge windows to glance down at the lake below. “Everything’s fine,” he replied in a clipped voice.
I blinked, noticing the tense posture, the way he closed himself off effortlessly. Gone was the joking concern about my hangover, the attentive preparation of a remedy, and his cheerful coaxing of me to drink it.
It was like a different man standing here in this room.
It was like standing in the room with the man who’d callously dumped me four weeks before.
That thought pissed me off, so I decided to goad him. “So is KareBear the new trainer-with-benefits?”
His back muscles rippled as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Swiveling at the waist, he flicked me a very annoyed glance over his shoulder. “It’s Karen Freed.” He confirmed my guess.
“Oh.” I swallowed. “I’m sorry.” What else could I say? There was a ton of history between Ryan and Karen that I knew nothing about. And he was not obligated to talk to me about it.
I turned, pulled out one of the drawers in the dresser, and dug out a pair of yoga pants, realizing my legs were cold and covered with goose bumps. Though those may not have been entirely from the cold, but instead from the strange premonitions I was getting from his behavior and his sparse delivery of this new development.
Bending, I pulled on the yoga pants and wrapped my arms around myself. “Well it’s been close enough to thirty minutes, so I’m gonna go grab a glass of water.”
And before he could reply or turn around or anything, I left the room and slowly hobbled up the stairs. He was at my side before I was even halfway up, insisting on grabbing me around the waist and supporting me.
Once we made it to the top of the stairs, he directed me to a stool at the kitchen counter and bent to inspect my ankle. I tried to ignore his incredible smell as it wafted by my nose when his body bent over mine. Or the memory of the feel of that body pressed on top of mine. My eyes closed. Goddamn…
“I’m concerned by the amount of bruising around this wound. There’s a lot of internal bleeding in the tissues.”
“Well as a natural side effect of the blood thinners, I bruise easily. Crazy easily, actually. It will work itself out. I’ve long since stopped bleeding.”
He pressed against the bruise with his thumbs to check the swelling and grunted noncommittally. My lips thinned, and I fought to stomp out those flickers of excitement that were stoked by even the lightest touch of his fing
ers.
I pulled my foot away and recoiled from him. A flash of irritation illuminated his blue eyes, but I ignored it. I slid off the stool and hobbled to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. I wasn’t even remotely interested in breakfast, despite not having eaten dinner the night before, but I felt like I could drink an entire river.
Ryan sat on the stool I’d just vacated and watched me, leaning on his elbows as I downed half the bottle. When I finally came up for air, he asked if I’d hand him one and I did. He uncapped it, took a small sip and recapped it again.
“So what’s with this sudden change of attitude?” he asked quietly.
I raised a brow but didn’t outright ask the question.
“You closed yourself right off when you came back from the bathroom.”
I finished off the water and then tossed the empty bottle in the recycling container. Then I took a deep breath. “Self-preservation, Ryan. I’m guarded.”
He nodded. “Because of what you saw on my phone?”
I held up a hand. “I only read the first message, I swear. I tried very hard not to violate your privacy.” My voice shook on the last few words, and I could’ve cursed myself for my weakness.
“There’s nothing going on between me and Karen,” he said quietly. Then he took a deep breath and let it go. “Yet.”
I blinked, and as his words sunk in, I could literally feel the blood drain from my own face. I put a hand on the fridge to brace myself, but every organ in my body felt as if it had just fallen a foot from its natural resting spot.
What the hell did that mean? Yet?
I watched him with wide eyes and willed him to continue, but his gaze skittered guiltily away from mine.
So I waited.
Chapter 18
Ryan
There was no way not to notice the way her features paled as she stared at me expectantly. I’d dropped the bomb, hadn’t I? Time to follow through.
It was clear that Gray still had those feelings. She might be good at hiding them but she wasn’t that good. She’d let it slip a few times for a fraction of minute here and there. Part of me was gratified to witness that, and the other part of me was horrified.
I also knew that if Karen agreed to my proposal—and that was a big if—then Gray had the right to know what might happen. It all made sense. So why was it so hard to get the words out?
I swallowed. “Karen and I have been spending a lot of time together. We’ve been doing a lot of talking.”
Gray didn’t move, uust gripped her upper arms looking alarmingly pale.
I took a deep breath and laced my fingers together. It was easier to look at them than to notice the stricken look in her eyes.
“She, uh…” My voice trembled just a little, and I cleared my throat. “She’s confided in me. In addition, AJ’s not doing so well. He’s traumatized and has been having nightmares. He’s missing his dad a lot.”
I reached a hand up to rub my forehead, mostly to hide my face from her for a moment. It wouldn’t suit for her to see how torn I was about this. She approached slowly until she stood opposite the counter from me, but she said nothing.
I still couldn’t look in her eyes, though. “Karen’s also been having some issues that I probably shouldn’t talk about. But it’s been a real struggle for them, and I haven’t been there the way I should have been. I promised I would be, but I wasn’t. I was too tied up…” My voice died out.
“In your guilt,” she continued in a tiny voice.
I clenched my jaw and my eyes cut to look out the window instead of at her. “I’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg of what AJ’s been suffering, but I’m worried. I love that kid. I—”
I shook my head, willing away those memories. I’d been there when he took his first step. When he was a baby, his tiny fist squeezing my finger. Feeding him a bottle. Playing catch…
My voice caught when I continued. “I sat in the waiting room at the hospital for a day and a half when he was born. After his mom and dad, I was the first person to hold him. Even before his grandparents. He’s like my blood nephew.”
I chanced a glance at her, almost expecting her to be angry or even to show more of that strange stoicism she’d been demonstrating for the past month. Instead, her brows were pinched together, and there was nothing but pure concern and sympathy on her face. For some reason, that made me even more emotional. I had to swallow the prickling sensation in my throat.
“I can be a father to AJ. I can take care of them.”
“And that means…”
I brought my laced hands to my mouth and watched her over them. “It means I told Karen I wanted to marry her and be AJ’s stepdad.”
She nodded solemnly, her eyes falling to the cold marble as she considered this information. She brought her hands to rest on the counter in front of her.
“Are you…” Her voice died in her throat, and she cleared it with determination. “So, does that mean you’re in love with her?”
Love. There’d be no talk of that fairytale or any other. Not today. I rubbed my lip with the back of my knuckle. My two days’ growth of whiskers were getting itchy and yet I had zero desire to shave. I felt protected like this, hidden. Shielded.
Ridiculous to think that something so trivial could protect me from the unwitting power Gray had over me.
“I want AJ to have a dad. I lost my dad when I was a teenager. I know how it feels. It sucks. AJ is so young, and he looks up to me. I’m the next best thing to his dad. And I can take care of her, too.”
Gray flinched slightly when I said her. It stabbed me to see it, but damn it, I had to hurt someone with this, didn’t I? I had to hurt her. Again.
I couldn’t have her, so did that mean I should live the rest of my life alone? I no longer wanted to be alone. I wanted a family. What had changed, I wondered?
The silence in the room was deafening, and I could all but see the defensive wall go up between us. But that wasn’t a surprise. What else could I expect from her?
She was watching me with that uncomfortable, unwavering stare she had so often used before. “Do you love Karen Freed?” she repeated.
A deep breath in, my hands clasped together tightly. I blew the breath out and answered, “Yes. I’ve known her since we were teenagers. She’s a dear friend. I do love her.”
She wasn’t looking at me now, just very closely studying the surface of the marble in front of her hands. Then she cleared her throat, and when she spoke, it was in a quiet, low voice, as if it were more of a struggle than normal to keep her own emotions in check.
“If you choose to be with them, it should be for the right reasons. You should make the decision as a way to guarantee your own happiness along with theirs. If you do this, will you be happy?”
“There’s more than one right reason to choose to be with someone, Gray. This is as right a reason as any other.”
I didn’t give the answer that was hovering on my lips because the words would prove her right. I don’t deserve to be happy.
I’d made the decision to break things off with her. It was heavily influenced by her shitty father forcing the issue, sure, but ultimately, it had been my call.
I buried my face in my hands. What I wanted and what I should do were two entirely different things. Two entirely different women. Two entirely different futures.
Fucking hell.
“Ryan,” she said, pulling my attention back to her. She pushed her glasses up her nose. “You deserve to be happy. You need to fight for that, for yourself and your future.”
“If she agrees to it, I think we’d be happy.”
She finally flicked a glance back up at me. “So she didn’t answer you?”
“We’re on hold until after the test flight. She wants to take things slow.”
Something I said there—about the test flight, probably—seemed to hit her hard. She flinched and moved back from the counter, turning and going to the fridge to open it only to stare for long moments and then close it.<
br />
She laced her fingers through her hairline, pulling roughly. “You’re making a mistake.”
I hissed out a long breath, then took a pull from the water bottle. “That depends on how you look at it.”
She shook her head in stunned disbelief.
“Does she know? About Xander’s tether? Did you tell her that her husband defied orders and released his tether so he could get to you and help you?”
I stared at her, speechless. Something vital coiled around my insides and squeezed. I couldn’t believe that she would use the knowledge I’d given her against me.
Why had I even told her in the first place?
Anger tightened my spine and flushed my face. I stood from the stool. “It’s my life. My decision.”
I turned to go, but her voice, suddenly forceful and no-nonsense, stopped me. “It is your decision. But it’s not just your life. It’s Karen’s life. It’s AJ’s life.” She halted and drew a deep breath and added in a trembling voice drenched in unshed tears, “It’s my life.”
It gutted me to hear and I was thankful that my back was to her. I closed my eyes and fought for control where she couldn’t see me.
“I don’t see you running right over to confront your dad about his interference in your life.” I returned in an equally forceful voice. And when she said nothing, I left the room and went downstairs to take a shower.
I had barely stepped through the threshold of the bedroom when the loud clatter of shattering glass halted me in my tracks. My heart also nearly stopped. Had she cut herself again? Cold fear streaked through me, and I darted up the stairs and was back in the kitchen in an instant. She’d moved to the other side of the room, stooping to look at something.
When she reached out, I noticed what looked like a shattered drinking glass right in front of her on the floor. Oh, hell no.
“Get the fuck away from that,” I yelled, and she jumped in shock. Standing, she looked at me over her shoulder. There were tears on her cheeks. I tried not to notice them, but that was damn near impossible. Had I ever seen her cry before?
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