Ryder's Redemption (Badboy Rockers #2) (13 page)

SIXTEEN

Ange

By five o’clock the following afternoon we had Deklan and Ryder’s new apartment pretty much put together. The guys had spent their time doing all the heavy lifting, while Kenzie, Brooke, and I unloaded boxes, putting the kitchen, bathrooms, and living room together.

I had noticed that Deklan had given Kenzie carte blanche on picking out everything for the kitchen, but when it came to art—he had a specific taste and he had chosen pictures. The gothic style mirror in the entryway had been Ryder’s choice.

“Deklan’s credit card has to be hurting right about now,” Brooke says, and neither one of us argues with her. He had already dropped a pretty penny at a few stores in Portland and Vancouver.

“He’s excited though,” Kenzie adds. “He’s never had his own place.”

Brooke snorts. “Yeah, well, it’s not like he’s living alone.”

“Yeah, but living with Ryder is different,” Kenzie says, and I can see she’s getting defensive of her man and his choice to have his best friend move in with him.

“No, I get it.” Brooke stifles a yawn and glances at the clock on the stove. “Anyone else starving?”

“Yeah. Deklan mentioned a pizza place a few blocks over off of Reserve street,” Kenzie says, handing Brooke a few twenty dollar bills. “You want to head over and order for us? The guys like—”

“Dude, I know what kind of pizza they like,” Brooke says, pocketing the money. “I can’t tell you the amount of pizza we’ve eaten during practice jams.”

“True,” Kenzie says, and hoists herself up on the counter.

“I’ll call you when it’s close to being ready.” The door closes behind Brooke.

Silence follows her departure. I feel Kenzie’s stare on me. “You’ve been so quiet today. What’s wrong?”

I shake my head. “Nothing.” I continue unloading glasses from the dishwasher and place them into the cupboard.

“Mom said that you were watching TV with Cole last night. Did something happen between you two?”

“No,” I snap, and immediately wish I’d kept my mouth shut. She knew me too well. No matter how much I tried to fake it and be happy, it just never seemed to work. Kenzie could always sense when something was wrong.

And she was right. All day I’d been stressing about what had happened last night with Cole. I couldn’t believe, especially after meeting Cole’s girlfriend, that I had allowed things to go so far.

We could have so easily had sex, and I would have woken up without my virginity…and he would probably drop me like a hot rock.

“I know it was tough with Payton showing up last night, and then them going to the concert with us. Nothing like having your nose shoved in it.”

“Payton is nice,” I say, a little too quickly.

Kenzie frowns. “That’s the second time I’ve heard you say it.”

“I mean it. She
is
nice, and she and Cole make a good couple. It was just a silly schoolgirl crush anyway. I live in California, and he lives in Washington. It’s not like it would ever go anywhere.”

“One day Cole will move back to San Diego though. I’m sure Dad expects him to run his businesses when he retires.” She squeezes my hand. “If you like him, then don’t give up.”

I didn’t understand why I felt this way. Ironically, Cole had behaved a lot in the way I had hoped. He’d paid attention to me, and actually moved really fast and let me know that he liked me. I had always hoped and fantasized that we’d be the ultimate couple. That I would see him when he came to San Diego to see his dad, and I could fly up to Seattle once every couple of months and visit him.

It had all seemed so easy then.

Now it seemed completely unrealistic.

And of course, I hadn’t included a Payton, or any other girl, in the picture. Now it was complicated, and I didn’t see the happily ever after I had originally envisioned.

Heavy footsteps come up the staircase and we both go quiet.

Deklan opens the door and pops his head in. “Hey, we have the couch. Want to help clear the way here?”

“Sure,” Kenzie and I say in unison, moving aside the mostly empty boxes.

“We’re going to have to turn and lift,” Curtis says, cussing under his breath. “Jesus, we might have to cut this fucker in two in order to make it fit.”

I hear Ryder laugh, and the sound makes me smile.

“Dude, we’re going to have to unscrew the feet.” Ryder is already unscrewing one of them, while Deklan starts on the other.

I glance at Ryder. Dressed in a white sleeveless t-shirt and ratted out jeans, he is the epitome of sexy.

Last night the way he’d pulled me on stage and kissed me in front of everyone—it’s like the world had stopped for a short space of time. He hadn’t made it weird afterward, even if I was a bit embarrassed by my reaction.

I tried not to think about Cole. Maybe a part of me just felt…dirty. I did one thing I told myself I would never do…and that was to go after a taken man. I knew, by way of my best friend at least, how it felt to be on the receiving end of an unfaithful boyfriend. I swore I would never be that kind of girl.

I had been exactly that kind of girl last night. What horrified me more than anything was how easily I could have gone to the next level. I’d been so caught up in the moment and lost all sense of control that I had forgotten that I actually was with someone who had made a commitment to another person.

Payton’s declaration that she and Cole were exclusive haunts me today.

Curtis’s phone rings.

“We’ll be right there,” he says. “Brooke said the pizza will be ready in five. Let’s get over there.”

We walk to the small pizza shop. I’m a few steps behind the group and watch as Ryder lights a cigarette. He rests his head back on his shoulders and releases a long, steady stream of smoke into the air.

He glances back at me, stops and waits for me to catch up.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

Oh my God, was I that obvious? I nod. “Yeah, definitely. Just a little tired.”

“Okay, I thought maybe I said something…”

“No.”

Once again, I feel close to tears. I had just had my period, so I had no excuse as far as blaming my emotional status on PMS. Nope, definitely just men problems in general. If I had been home, I would feign a sick day, curl up in bed, and sleep the day away. I couldn’t very well do that here, especially when the guy who was causing me so much mental anguish was sleeping twenty feet away in the next room.

Ryder slides his arm around my shoulders and brings me in for a hug.

I push him gently. “I hate the smell of smoke.”

He drops the cigarette and crushes it beneath his shoe.

“Now you’re going to litter.”

“Wow, you’re busting my balls today.” He stops, picks up the destroyed cigarette, and tosses it in the garbage bin.

The others have walked ahead of us. He puts a hand on either one of my shoulders and squeezes. “I’m here for you if you need me.” My stomach tightens at the contact.

I know Ryder is going through his own stuff, what with dealing with his recovery and facing roommates who thought he had relapsed. It was nice for him to think of me. I suddenly felt extremely selfish.

“Come on, you two!” It’s Curtis, and he’s keeping the restaurant door open for us.

“Promise me you’ll let me know if you need something.”

“I promise.”

Brooke has saved us a booth in the packed restaurant. I slide in beside Kenzie and Deklan, and Ryder sits with Curtis and Brooke. I sit directly across from Ryder.

He takes a sip of pop and I stare as he is talking to Deklan about things that they still need to pick up at the old house.

I take in everything about him. The way his lower lip is pretty full, how long his eyelashes are, how blue his eyes could get, how high those cheekbones are. My gaze slides to the hands around the glass. They’re strong, the fingers long, and I can only imagine what those hands can do. I remember him playing the bass, how those fingers had danced over the strings with such skill.

“Do I even want to know what you’re thinking?”

I glance up and those blue eyes are staring straight at me. The sides of his mouth are lifted and his brows are furrowed.

“Probably not,” I say. My voice has a touch of flirt to it, and I quickly reach for my pop and proceed to knock it over…right in Ryder’s lap.

I freeze. I’m horrified as everyone in the restaurant turns to look our way.

“Oh my God, Ryder. I’m so sorry.”

He stands up slowly. His belly and crotch are soaked.

Oddly I think of last night and the little event with Cole, and I want to cry all over again.

Brooke hands him the silver napkin holder and he pulls a couple out and does his best to soak up the excess.

A woman in her early twenties walks over and gives Ryder a towel. She cleans up the mess and gets me another pop.

I continue to apologize profusely. She shrugs it off, and I’m grateful. I just wish everyone would quit looking.

“I’m going to change,” Ryder says, heading for the door. “I’ll be right back.”

I’ll go with you
. I want to say the words but they stick in my throat, and instead I watch his retreating back as he leaves.

The table falls silent until Brooke makes a comment about the upcoming concert. I’m grateful no one made me feel like more of an asshole than I already do.

I only partially listen to the conversation around me. I’m excited about the concert too, but once again I’m getting a little tired of our lives revolving around
The Frozen
and their schedule.

Ten minutes goes by and Ryder still isn’t back. Then fifteen minutes. At twenty minutes Deklan looks at his phone. “What’s taking him so long?”

“Do you want me to go check on him?” I ask, ready to be out of the restaurant altogether and away from conversation about Gorge Days.

Deklan is easing up out of the bench, but Kenzie rests a hand on his arm and he sits back down. “If you want to.”

I was only too ready to get out of the restaurant.

I half expect to run into Ryder as I walk back to the apartment. I pass by an old couple. The lady smiles and wishes me a good evening, and I am reminded how most people back home rarely made eye contact.

Life here just seems less harried, I suppose. Not everyone is in a rush to get where they’re going and that’s a welcome change.

I walk up the steps toward the apartment.

The apartment door is partially open. I walk in and nail Ryder in the face as he is walking out.

“Jesus, woman, are you trying to kill me?” he asks, holding his nose.

“Oh my God, are you bleeding?”

He touches his nose and sure enough, it comes back wet with blood.

I push past him to the kitchen and yank the roll of paper towels off the counter. I wet one and approach him.

Wary of me, he reaches out for it, but I push his hands aside.

“Put your head back,” I order.

He does as I ask.

Along with blood coming from his right nostril, there is also a red line along the bridge of his nose.

“I’m so sorry, Ryder.”

“You’re apologizing entirely too much.”

“I’ve been such a klutz lately.”

“You mean you’re normally not?” There is that smirk again.

“No, I’m not a klutz.” Well, that was kind of a lie. “I mean, I have my moments…except for when I am around certain individuals.”

“Like me, you mean?”

I clear my throat. “Just around guys, I think.”

“Who else makes you nervous?” he asks in that silky soft voice that makes the hair on my arms stand on end.

“You don’t make me nervous.”

He lifts his brows.

“Okay, well maybe you make me a
little
nervous. Let’s face it, your reputation precedes you, so I think that’s why I’m a bit apprehensive.”

“Apprehensive, and yet I’ve grown on you, haven’t I…despite your desire to hate me?”

“Maybe a little.” I smile. “And for the record, I don’t hate you.”

I realize he’s changed into track pants.

Following my gaze, he winces. “It was these or skinny jeans that I wear only for concerts.”

“Only for concerts, huh?” I rub my hands together. “I can’t wait to see that.”

“The girls like to see the package, you know.”

I could have done without hearing that. The comment makes me laugh though, and I shake my head. “Tell me you’ll wear them at least once before I head home.”

“I will. I promise.” He slides his hands inside the track pants pockets.

Honestly, I think he looks smoking hot in them, but I won’t tell him that. His ego doesn’t need the added boost at the moment.

“Ange, I hate the thought of you leaving…despite the fact you were kind of a bitch when you first arrived.”

“I wasn’t a bitch. I mean, maybe I was kind of cold, but you had also hurt my best friend.”

“Your best friend, who, need I remind you, is now together with my best friend.” His brows lift. “I managed to get myself played a bit in that relationship as well, so it’s kind of a wash as far as I’m concerned.”

“Fair enough,” I say, and he puts an arm around my shoulders.

He lifts his head. “Does my nose look better?”

“There’s just a little blood,” I say, taking the paper towel and dabbing at the spot of dried blood. “You do have a red mark across the bridge though. Hopefully it won’t bruise.”

“It’ll keep people guessing.”

As always, he smells amazing. I have this strange desire to bury my head in his chest and inhale.

Overhead, it sounds like someone is dragging a heavy table across the floor.

“What are they doing up there?” I ask, looking at Ryder.

“Who knows? Maybe they’re getting busy.” He gives me a wink. “Apartment living. It’s not without its downsides.”

I completely ignore the innuendo about the neighbors and what could be happening up there and savor the hug a few more seconds before he locks the door behind us.

“So are we still on for a sleepover tonight?” he asks, a shit-eating grin on his lips.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“You sleeping in my bed?”

The idea of sharing a bed with Ryder after last night’s encounter with Cole is more than a little unnerving. “I’ll probably stick to the couch.”

“What if the apartment is haunted or something? You know that sound upstairs could have come from a ghost.”

My stomach drops to my toes. “You’re freaking me out.”

“The building is old. I’ve heard stories.”

I stare at him for a long moment and his expression doesn’t falter. Oh my God, is he serious? I’d watched a lot of shows on television about old buildings being haunted. And we were just blocks away from Fort Vancouver.

Kenzie’s apartment was old…but not as old as the building. And all the features seemed to be original.

He laughs. “Nice, you’re thinking about it, aren’t you? My bed doesn’t seem so bad now, does it?”

“Fine, but no touchy feely.”

He puts both hands up, like a criminal who is surrendering. “Hey, I’ll keep my hands to myself, I promise.”