Mike snorts. “I’d rather just drink copious amounts of Budweiser to embrace the American spirit.”
Tommy groans as he sinks down in his chair. “I need a break from drinking after last night. Plus, Ryder’s here, so I’ll actually be able to catch some passes.”
Mike flips a grinning Tommy off. “I’d never played quarterback, okay?”
“You never played anything,” Tommy retorts. “Ryder’s the only one who was good enough to actually play.”
“One game,” Mike scoffs. “Hardly a flourishing career.”
“One more than you played,” Ryder jumps in with, finally joining the conversation.
“Please. You never would have even played in that one if you weren’t trying to impress…”
Mike doesn’t say my name, but the glance he shoots my way pretty much gives away who he’s talking about for the few people at this table who didn’t already know Ryder and I share a romantic past. Unfortunately, those few people include my fiancé.
I’m more occupied by the trip down memory lane, though.
“If he was trying to impress me, I don’t think he would have spent ten minutes yelling at me about how he had better things to do with his time when I suggested he play,” I say, before taking a bite of muffin.
Ryder glares at me, but it doesn’t hold any hostility. Mike chokes on a laugh.
“That trailer had thin walls, Ry,” Tommy contributes, laughing.
“You just wanted to cheer for a winning team for once,” Paige tells me, laughing as well.
We’re all dancing around Liam’s name, but the conversation is light despite the heavy reminder. The first two months of senior year were a couple of the best ones in my life. It’s a relief to let the pain and confusion that closely followed them fall away, even if only for a moment, and focus on the positive.
As soon as breakfast ends, the men all head down to the beach to toss a football around. Well, almost all. William excuses himself to make a work call. I stay out on the deck to enjoy the warm sun and company of some of my closest friends. Lily leaves a couple minutes after the guys to take a shower.
Once she disappears inside, Paige turns to me. “Did you seriously not tell William about you and Ryder before you came here?”
I lean back in my chair and rest my feet on the railing that encircles the deck. “Do you normally share your dating history from seven years back?”
Paige rolls her eyes. “If I’m vacationing with the guy and we still have off-the-charts chemistry? Yeah, I probably would.”
I shrug, but don’t say anything, prompting the conversation to shift to wedding preparations. Tommy and Eliza’s wedding is only two weeks away. It’s hard to believe after having spent the past year hearing her go over each detail of it again and again. She’s never expressed anything to me except excitement about her upcoming nuptials. I’m excited about them. I’m just not excited about mine.
I don’t contribute much to the discussion, mostly just alternating between looking at the water and staring at the boys playing football on the beach. At one boy.
Ever since I learned where Liam currently is, I’ve spent time combing through London police reports. It’s most likely a complete waste of time and a job better suited for someone who’s had some form of law enforcement training, as my father said. It helps, though. And I know I’m not just searching for justice for Kennedy. I’m seeking out revenge on Ryder’s behalf.
Watching him throw a football wearing a backwards baseball cap and a wide grin on his face, I feel a little of that burning desire to do something ease. Acknowledging the fact that not letting something go gives it more power over you.
“Scale of one to ten, how worried should I be?”
“Huh?” I turn my attention back to the deck, surprised to realize Paige is now the only one still out here with me.
“Elle…” I jolt. She hasn’t called me that since high school.
“I think about him all the time,” I whisper. “I play back all these moments we shared. Then. Now. I keep waiting for that to be enough. To just be… over it.”
“What about William? You love him, right?”
“William’s perfect. Well, no one’s perfect, but I always thought he is as close as it gets. Maybe he is. Maybe he’s just not perfect for me.”
I expect Paige to look triumphant, but her gaze is troubled and sad when I look over at her. “Is this all because of Ryder? Because—well, he—I mean what has he told you? Explained?”
I huff an unamused laugh. “Nothing. You know that.”
“So, what? You’re going to break off your engagement to be with a guy who had issues in high school and is even more unpredictable now?”
I trace the ridge of the railing with my toes. “I thought you’d tell me to follow my heart.”
“I know things between you two are crazy intense. I saw it in high school—maybe before you did—and I see it now. But what if that’s all it is? You moved on for a reason.”
“Yeah. Because I didn’t think he was an option. Ever would be an option. I couldn’t forgive—if he’d really done it. But he didn’t, Paige,” I plead.
“I know. But he did bring another girl here. It took you, what? A year before you’d date any guy at Yale? He’s been out just over a month. Epic love stories have to be two-sided.”
I swallow. I don’t think I’ve totally imagined some of the things Ryder’s done and said as suggesting there’s more than just lingering attraction between us. But Paige’s technically right. He’s given me no clear indication he still has feelings for me.
“I’m sorry. Maybe I’m being too harsh. You know I’ll support you no matter what. Maybe you should break off the engagement with William and keep dating? Just tell him you're not ready for marriage yet.”
“It’s fine, Paige. I needed to hear that,” I assure her. She studies me, and I hide how deeply some of her words cut. When your flighty, reckless best friend tells you something’s a bad idea, it’s generally a good idea to listen.
“Come on. Let’s bike into town,” Paige suggests, standing and stretching.
Exercise and space both sound like good ideas, so I agree. “Okay.” I down the last of my coffee and follow her through the French doors into the kitchen. I rinse my mug and stick it in the dishwasher. “I’m just going to check on William,” I tell Paige. She nods.
William’s in the same spot on the couch I worked from during my last visit here when I enter the sunporch.
“Hey,” he glances up and smiles.
“Hey,” I reply. “Your call’s finished?”
“Yeah, but I’ve got to get this motion submitted now so it can be filed first thing tomorrow.” He gives me a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”
Suddenly, I feel like the worst person in the world. I experience a rush of appreciation toward William. Toward the steady, reliable, hard-working guy I’m lucky enough to have found. Paige’s words come back to me. Epic love stories have to be two-sided. I thought things between me and Ryder were epic. But what is epic? Confusing, consuming, and devastating? Or reassuring and comforting and lasting? At least with William I know things are two-sided. He’s never made me doubt how he feels about me. Maybe that’s the most important trait of all.
“It’s fine. I get it.” I walk over to the couch and take a seat next to him. “The firm’s lucky to have you.” I give him a genuine, warm smile, which he returns.
“So, you’ve known Ryder a while, huh?”
“Yeah…” I’m relieved he’s brought it up, so I don’t have to. “I should have said something before we got here. I wasn’t sure if he would be. We had a thing in high school, but it was forever ago now.”
“It’s fine. I was just surprised. Especially when you said he’s Christopher’s brother. I’ve heard you talk about the kid, but never Ryder.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, deliberating over how honest to be. “It didn’t end well.”
“You seem to be getting along all right now.”<
br />
I’m guessing William would think differently if he’d been here for the combined bachelor and bachelorette parties.
“We’re adults now.” I actually think Ryder and I were two of the more mature high schoolers in Fernwood, but the exception was generally when we interacted. That seems to have held true into adulthood. “Anyway, I was going to see if you wanted to bike into town with me and Paige, but I’m guessing you’d rather get some work done.”
William gives me a knowing smile. “Yeah, I would.”
“Okay. I’ll leave you to it, then.” I lean in to give him a quick kiss, and he surprises me by deepening it, pressing me back against the soft pillows on the couch and slipping his tongue inside my mouth. We make out like horny teenagers for a couple of minutes, until I pull back. “Paige is waiting…”
“Okay.” William gives me one more quick peck. “Have fun.”
“I probably shouldn’t say the same.” I wink. “See you in a bit.”
Paige and I don’t return to the house for several hours. By the time we do, preparations are in full swing for the barbecue we’re having before heading down the beach to watch the fireworks. I help shuck corn, set out plates, and go out to buy extra ice. Anything to keep busy. To keep from being in the same room as Ryder. I feel too exposed to talk to him after my conversation with Paige. Admitting to someone else my feelings for Ryder are strong enough I’ve contemplated ending my engagement feels a lot different than thinking about it myself. Facing some of the truths she pointed out in response didn’t exactly help.
Dinner goes off seamlessly, everyone’s too busy eating smoked meat and drinking cold beer to spark any deep conversations. Or to notice how I keep the length of the table between me and Ryder. We finish eating, clean up, and then everyone prepares to depart for the fireworks.
I head down to the beach to let Scout run around before we leave. I toss the ball for him a few times, and then coax him back through the dunes. I’m almost to the stairs when I realize there’s someone sitting on the bottom step.
“You’re avoiding me,” Ryder states, standing and leaning against the railing.
“What? No, I’m not.”
“Yeah, you are. I thought we were good after this morning, but you’ve barely looked at me since breakfast or said a single word to me.
“Maybe my world doesn’t revolve around you, Ryder. My best friends and fiancé are here. Maybe I’m busy.”
“Did something happen? Did—”
“Nothing happened! Just drop it. I’ve got to go get ready to leave.”
I try to brush past him, but one hand on my arm stops any forward motion.
“Elle, come on. You never ignore me. Even when you’re pissed off.” Annoyance bubbles inside me. He’s right. Because I couldn’t get enough of his attention.
“Right.” I snort, then try to move past him again. He stops me. Again.
Annoyance turns to anger. “Move, Ryder!”
“I will. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“I don’t need to tell you anything. Now let me go inside before everyone starts gossiping about us arguing again.”
“No one’s gossiping about us.”
I snort. “Not to you, maybe. I’m the one who’s going to have to dodge questions about it.”
“About what?”
“Us arguing. Paige likes to remind me of how much of a fool I make of myself. I’m sure Tommy, Mike, and everyone else who knew us back then are thinking the same.”
“The same?”
“It’s fine. Forget I said anything. It’s how we are, right? How we always were.”
Confusion flashes across Ryder’s face. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I was always the one chasing you. I was always the invested one. I mean, half the time in high school I wasn’t even sure if you wanted me around. It seemed like you were just indulging me. Humoring me.”
Anger flares on Ryder’s face, rather than the pity I was expecting.
“Are you kidding me, Elle?”
“Uh, no,” I reply, caught off guard. “I’m not upset about it anymore. I was just stating a fact—”
“You think I didn’t want you around? That I was humoring you?”
“Um, yes?”
“You don’t know anything, Elle.”
“You didn’t tell me anything, Ryder. Then or now. I’m not a fucking mind reader.”
He huffs out an annoyed sigh and drops his hand from my arm. I start up the stairs, and Scout races past me, bounding up to the door.
“Elle.”
I halt, half-way up the stairs.
“I wasn’t—I’ve never humored you. Okay?”
“Okay.”
I start climbing the steps again, and this time Ryder doesn’t say or do anything to stop me. When I enter the house with Scout everyone’s still racing about grabbing drinks, blankets, and bug spray. No one seems to have noticed my absence—or Ryder’s—which I’m hoping means my worries about sparking gossip were unfounded.
We set off as a group a few minutes later. There’s a public stretch of beach about a mile down from where Eliza’s family’s cottage is located that provides a perfect view of the town’s Fourth of July fireworks display. The sun set a while ago, but the blazing lights of the houses lining the shore illuminate our way, along with the flashlights we brought along for precisely this purpose.
I stay in the front of the group with Paige and William. Ryder entered the house a few minutes after I did but hasn’t made another attempt to talk to me. I’m grateful. Our last chat undid the shaky progress I’d made today in determining where things stand between us. It’s as though he has some sort of radar on how best to confuse things I thought were settled.
There’s a massive turn-out on the beach, and it takes us a while to pick our way through the crowd that’s already claimed patches of sand to claim our own. Finally, we find a spot, dropping the towels and drinks we brought and waiting for the show to start. It’s not a long wait.
Fireworks begin to explode minutes later, shooting colored lights upward into the inky black sky that drift back down in tendrils of smoke. The bright sparks explode over and over again in brilliant patterns reflected on the textured surface of the ocean below. Upbeat music blasts from speakers set along the beach, surrounding the exuberant crowd. I stare up at the dazzling display as I take sips of the alcohol we smuggled in, battling the bizarre urge to cry.
“I’ll be right back,” I whisper to William. “I have to use the bathroom.”
“You’re going to miss the rest of the show,” he replies.
I shrug. “I’ll be quick.”
I head for the long, low building situated along the back of the beach reserved for changing rooms and restrooms. Like always, there’s a substantial line for the women’s and none for the men’s. There’s a familiar face waiting at the end of the line, one I probably would have noticed was missing from our group if I’d allowed myself to look over at Ryder.
“Hi, Lily,” I say, giving her my best attempt at a warm smile.
“Hey, Eleanor.” She returns it, looking equally strained.
“Enjoying the fireworks?” I ask.
“Yeah. They’re beautiful. It’s a perfect night.”
“Yes, it is,” I agree.
Silence.
“You’re working at Washington and Stevens for the summer?”
Work. Common ground.
“Yes,” I confirm. “Just doing my part to help the rich get richer, you know?” The words are wry.
A confused look greets that comment. “Okay…”
“Ryder hasn’t shared any of his views on corporate law with you?”
“Uh, no.”
“You should ask him about it. I’m sure he’d love to discuss them with someone who shares his views.”
“Shares his views?”
“You work for a non-profit. You’re not helping corporations cover up their mistakes the way I am.”
“I’ve never
gotten the impression Ryder has any opinion on my career,” Lily replies.
I snort. “Must be nice. He’s awfully judgmental when he wants to be.”
“Or when he cares,” Lily responds.
“Oh, no,” I rush to say. “That’s not what I was trying to say at all—”
“It’s fine, Eleanor,” Lily says. “I knew it was a long shot going into it. I read… I knew it was probably going to be like this. I saw you two at the gala, and I ignored it. This trip, well… you’re hard to compete with. Impossible, actually.”
“Oh.” It’s slowly occurring to me instigating a conversation with my ex-boyfriend’s current girlfriend about my ex-boyfriend’s thoughts on my choice of profession while moderately tipsy was perhaps not the greatest idea I’ve ever had. I’ve somehow tripped down a rabbit hole of having to reassure her about her relationship with Ryder.
“I don’t—it’s not—things aren’t like that between Ryder and me anymore.”
“They’re like that for him,” Lily insists, sounding awfully certain. “And I’m pretty sure they’re like that for you, too.”
I glance away from her knowing gaze.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“He won’t even tell me what happened back then,” I admit. “If he cared about me at all, he’d at least give me that.”
“Maybe not telling you is his way of showing you he cares.”
I study her, suddenly aware Lily has had access to some information I haven’t had access to. “What does that mean?”
“We try to protect the people we love.”
“Yeah, well he never told me that either.” Yeah, I’m definitely on the cusp of being drunk. Pretty certain that’s the type of thing you don’t disclose to an ex’s current flame.
“Do you know why I called you?”
“You said I could help you find some information.” It’s a statement that comes out sounding like a question. Because isn’t that something she should know?
Lily looks to the line that hasn’t moved at all. “Yeah, well, I lied. There was no reason to contact you. Except for the fact I was curious.”
Come Break My Heart Again Page 23