Major Renovations (Ritter University #1) (5 page)

Ryan laughed. “So, which part has driven you crazy? His face stuck in a book or his obsession with working out?”

“Or maybe it’s his freakish strength after that time he beat the crap out of his best friend.” Ski glared at Ryan. The glare said
shut up
, if Ryan would just stop laughing and take a good look.

Damn Ryan.

Samantha shook her head and gave Ryan another party-hostess smile. Ryan followed along behind her while she gave him a tour of the kitchen, showing him the tile, the fridge, the freshly painted walls. They walked through the downstairs room by room, with her explaining what was done and why.

“What’s left? It seems you have everything done.” Ryan leaned his head in the general direction of the front door and laughed. “Well, except for the porch. Looks like someone took a bite out of it.”

She laughed.
Laughed
. “Yeah, there were some— unforeseen issues.”

Now he was an unforeseen issue. Real nice.

“I love that we’ll have lights across the whole front of the house now.” Ryan stepped outside, waving at the inside of the porch roof. “This is going to be great. We just have to make sure none of the barbarians we live with fall through the roof or do this again.” He poked at the hanging rail.

“It
can
be hard to control the barbarians,” Samantha agreed, her gaze finding Ski. “But I will be double-bolting the railing to ensure stability.”

“That’s probably not a bad idea.” Ryan stamped one foot on the decking. “You upgraded the joists to two by eights, right? It feels a lot sturdier.”

“I did.” She smiled at Ryan, and Ski seriously though he was going to be sick.

He narrowed his eyes at Ryan. “I didn’t know business courses covered building construction.”

“They don’t.” Ryan gave Ski an innocent look that Ski totally didn’t trust. “It’s a hobby. I took an architecture course.”

Great— a hobby that got Ryan closer to Ski’s woman. Not that she was his woman or anything, but that didn’t mean Ryan and his name-brand jeans could come in and swoop her up. There were codes. Bro codes.

Thou shalt not steal thy brother’s woman.

Again, not that she was his— but he saw her first. Did he really just think that? Dammit. Just… dammit.

And Samantha was still smiling at that snake Ryan. “Well, we can always use some help around here, especially from someone with experience.” She laughed.
Laughed
. Again.

He’d taken hits on the field that hurt less. Ski was a nuisance, and Ryan was the second coming of Christ, for fuck’s sake.

The smiles. Ryan got a
smile
. Ski got scowls.

The laughter. Ryan got laughter. Ski got yelling.

Fuck. Ski bent over backward, and got nowhere. Ryan mentioned joists and suddenly was short-listed for best friend status. Or maybe more. Was Ryan trying for more?

“Don’t you have a girlfriend or an arranged marriage or something?” Ski spit the words out before he really thought about them.

Ryan took a step back and stared.
Dammit.
Ski should’ve thought twice about throwing that out there. Ryan hated that his parents were constantly trying to throw the country club women at him. One woman in particular. An old family friend Ryan would never see as anything more than a friend. And Ski knew it. Knew how much it upset Ryan.

“Yeah.” Ryan brushed nonexistent dirt off his jeans. “I should go.”

“Wait.” Ski’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he automatically checked the screen. His cousin. His cousin was with his parents in Poland. What could he possibly want? Maybe there was something wrong with them. “I have to take this, but don’t leave,” he told Ryan.

Ski put the phone to his ear and walked around the side of the building. “This better be important.”

“Andrezj, don’t freak, everything is okay,” his cousin Joe said. The hushed tone and slow words were not a good thing. No conversation ended well when it began with
don’t freak
. “It’s your mom, there was a small accident.”

~»ΨΡ«~

Chapter
Seven

Sam

SAMANTHA WATCHED Ski walk away, leaving her alone with Ryan. Not that it was a hardship or anything. Ryan was good-looking. Great smile. Adorably disheveled hair. Not quite as good-looking as Ski— not that she was looking. It was just a passing thought.

Ryan stepped down and sat on the porch steps, arms resting on his knees. The easy smile from earlier was gone, and before Ski had run off, Ryan looked like he’d been kicked in the— well, in a bad place by his best friend.

“So, arranged marriage.” She moved and sat down across from him on the other side of the top step.

“It’s not actually an arranged marriage. It’s a highly-suggested life course with the added bonus of a chosen bride.” He threw a hollow smile her way.

“Does anyone still do that?”

“When you’re building an empire, you do.”

“That’s rough.” She couldn’t even imagine being told who to marry. “Who’s building the empire?”

“My father.”

She knew all about father problems. “I take it you don’t like your selected woman.”

He shrugged, and dropped his head until it hung almost between his knees. “She’s a great friend, but she’s just not my type.”

“What’s your type?”

Ryan lifted his head and looked around, probably looking for Ski to save him from her questions. Not that she blamed him. She hated talking about herself, too. But something about the practically-betrothed Ryan interested her.

Someone who joked so easily with Ski. Someone who so obviously pissed Ski off and got pissed off at his best friend, yet still sat here waiting. Not running. He definitely interested her.

“I guess my type is someone who’s not afraid to have fun, no matter what anybody thinks. Someone who isn’t counting my money or social connections before they’ll even go out on a first date. Someone who just likes me— for me. What about you?”

“Oh no, this isn’t about me.”

“Come on. I showed you mine. You have to show me yours. It’s only fair.” He leaned back against the top step, grinning.

“Okay.” She took a deep breath, and no, it wasn’t her imagination—Ryan didn’t check out her chest. Curious.

She ran her finger over her tablet, stalling. “I want—”
someone who will love me, will never let me down, will never leave.
In other words, a fantasy. “—to be alone.” Hadn’t some famous actress said that?

“Hmm… Alone. Sounds lonely.” Ryan’s nod only made her more aware she didn’t do this. She didn’t share. She didn’t talk about herself. Not like this. What-if’s were for dreamers, for girls who believed they were princesses and other romantic drivel encouraged by cartoons. That wasn’t her. She was a realist.

“Not when you do it right.” Her eyes searched for Ski to save her from Ryan, from herself.

“What’s the right way to be alone?”

“Great friends. Great movies.”
Occasional date with a good vibrator.
She kept that last one to herself. Definitely TMI.

“I’m surprised you’d choose to be alone. I’m surprised guys aren’t throwing themselves at you.”

“Who says they’re not? I’m just not catching.”

“That’s too bad,” he drawled, and his smirk made her wonder what she’d just revealed. “You might miss a really great guy.”

“What? Like you?” She knew that’s not what he meant, but she figured she’d throw all of this back on him.

“No.” He laughed. “Definitely not me.”

“So, you’re not great.”

“I’m a mess. You don’t want someone like me.”

“Then what do I want?” She didn’t mean to ask it. It just fell out of her mouth. But that wasn’t even the most disturbing part. The worst part was she was hanging on Ryan’s next breath, hoping he could tell her what she wanted. She’d been thinking about that for weeks, and still had no clue.

“I’m thinking a tall Polish Ritter student.” Ryan slid her a grin.

“Yeah, well, he wouldn’t want me. I’m the mess in that relationship.” Her face flamed. “Not that there’s a relationship. We’re just friends. Not even friends. He’s my boss. You know, never mix business and pleasure.” She stood up before the embarrassment melted her into a puddle of goo on the ground. Or she babbled some more.

“I think he could overlook that.”

“Overlook what?” She stopped in her tracks. What could he overlook? And why did it matter?

“The mess, the friends, the boss.” Ryan’s smile spread across his face, and really— why wasn’t she going all melty over him? Why did it have to be Ski? Not that it mattered, they were both annoying fratties, so not her type. They were the opposite of her type, if she really had a type. Which she didn’t.

Why was she still standing there again?

“I should get back to work.” She pasted on a smile as she walked him to the parking area. “It was nice to meet you.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Samantha.”

She practically tripped over her own feet as she ran back into the house. Away from Ski and away from Ryan’s prying eyes.
He could overlook that
. Yeah, he probably could. And didn’t that just scare the crap out of her. Because he might be able to look past her faults now, but what about later?

What about after she fell in love and started to rely on him? Would he be so willing to see past her flaws then? Would he stick by her when she forgot to do some easy task, like checking her employee’s work? Or would he walk away? Just get fed up?

Her mother did it. And she had that whole maternal thing. That thing that said she would love her child no matter what. Yet she walked away, without a backward glance.

Ski didn’t even have that maternal thing to keep him around. What would keep him from walking away?

~»ΨΡ«~

Chapter
Eight

Ski

LATER THAT afternoon, Ski sat at Barnacles pub listening to Ryan ramble on about bullshit. The mock porthole windows and wood-plank furniture made him feel like Jack Sparrow. A tall blond Jack Sparrow, without the guy-liner. Or an earring. He leaned on the table— a glass-covered ship’s wheel— and grabbed his head, ignoring the overwhelming urge to beat his head on the table. Or beat the crap out of Ryan. Either would work. He’d really wanted to get out of the frat house, but why had he agreed to go to Barnacles with Ryan today? He had no idea. Although he had to admit, the sexy seafaring wenches that brought out the food and booze might have helped. Awesome wings and eye candy never hurt when drinking away one’s problems.

“So, it was interesting seeing all the progress on the house.” Ryan finally sat back and took a drink of his beer.

“Yes.” Ski played with the label on the beer bottle in front of him. Sam had made a lot of progress. Great. Then she’d go away and stop tormenting him with that body. That should make him happy, so why did it only make his stomach twist?

“Ski!”

“What?”

“So, how long have you had a thing for the contractor?” Ryan raised his eyebrows, and Ski glared at him. Ryan only shrugged. “I get it— the way you eye-humped her when she showed us around. She’s hot. You two will make beautiful babies and shit.”

“Shut up. It’s not like that.” He only wanted it to be like that. Dammit.

“Really?” Ryan grinned and raised his beer. “Then maybe I’ll take a run at her.”

“Back off, Kent.” The growl left Ski’s throat before he could stop himself. Ryan wasn’t stupid enough to make a run for his girl. Was he?
Gowno
, Ski was so screwed. His girl? He kept thinking that shit. He couldn’t even tell reality from fantasy if his first thought was Samantha— his girl. She wasn’t his. Hell, she didn’t even like him.

Ryan laughed and raised his hands above his head in surrender. “Consider me backed off.” He kept laughing while he snatched up the last wing.
Dupek
.

He didn’t see why Ryan was giving him such a hard time. So he liked the way Samantha fit into a pair of jeans. She was nice to look at. That didn’t mean anything had to happen between them. Ski was in college, going to be a business major. Dwelling on a woman who had no interest in him was stupid. And Ski was not stupid. “It’s no big deal.” He picked up his beer.

“No big deal? You’ve been burying that big head in book after book and only lifting your eyes long enough to catch a football. Please. You’re finally getting a life. It’s a big deal.”

“Yeah. Well, it doesn’t matter. She… Never mind.”

“I get it. Love sucks.” Ryan raised his bottle and Ski air-clinked it with his own.

He hadn’t really talked to Samantha since the inspection— what was the point? She made it perfectly clear he was a nuisance. Shit, that still hurt.

“I heard what Samantha said, but what about you?”

Ski blinked. “Huh?” He hadn’t said that out loud, had he?

“Samantha said they’d be done by the end of July. Do you think we’ll be able to move in on time?”

“Yeah. It’s coming along.” Of course, Ski had no idea how she’d get it all done with the inspector setback, but Ryan didn’t need to know about that. And heaven forbid they ran into any more problems. “It should be done before summer finals.” He checked his phone. He’d overheard the crew talking about the inspector coming back this afternoon. Ski thought about dropping in, but he didn’t want to be in the way. They seemed ready without his help, so why hover? “Hopefully, we’ll finish the porch soon.” Shit.
We
? As if he had anything to do with the project. As if she wanted him to have anything to do with the project.