I wrinkled my nose. I really didn’t want to. He would have me locked down tighter than Fort Knox.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Ryker continued. “If you’re not going to tell him, then you have to stay with someone for a few days. I don’t want you here. We still don’t know how this guy got into your apartment in the first place. There are spare rooms at the clubhouse you can use.”
I choked on a laugh.
“My brother would have a heart attack if he found out I was there. You know he hates your club.”
“No one would bother you though,” Ryker pointed out.
I tried to picture myself surrounded by the Blackjacks MC—tattoos and leather, sex and alcohol. God only knew what else they did in their spare time. As tempting as it was to consider being with Ryker more often, I wouldn’t fit in with his biker buddies.
“I’ll call a friend in the morning,” I replied.
That seemed to satisfy Ryker, for now anyway. Retreating to my bedroom, I couldn’t help noticing how the atmosphere in my apartment felt…different. Charged. Electric. Having Ryker in my private living space—just the two of us, alone—made me hyper aware of his presence.
In any other situation, this would have been a dream come true. Ryker Bridges was spending the night. How many times had I fantasized about something like this?
Except in my fantasies, he wasn’t sleeping on the damn couch.
With a sigh, I grabbed clean sheets and a spare pillow from my closet, returning to the living room.
“Sorry about ruining your plans for the night, by the way,” I said, placing the bedding on the couch next to Ryker.
He scoffed.
“I’m sure my non-existent social life will recover.”
“What about your club? You hang out with them, don’t you?”
Ryker made a non-committal noise.
“For business, sure. Nothing more than that. They could vote me out tomorrow and it wouldn’t mean a fucking thing to any of them.”
I frowned with concern. Ryker didn't seem to like getting close to people. I thought the Blackjacks MC would provide him with some companionship, some friends, but it seemed they were a means to an end.
He didn't have any family here in Brightwater, Montana. They were all back in his hometown, in West Virginia. As far as I knew, they never visited him. They probably didn’t even have a way to contact him at all.
On the outskirts of town, Ryker had built a cabin for himself. But he never mentioned a girlfriend, never mentioned any other friends aside from Noah. Did that mean he was alone, day after day, year after year?
“Don’t you get lonely, being by yourself all the time?” I asked.
Ryker shifted his gaze up to meet mine. A lifetime of silence passed between us.
“No,” he said in a flat voice. Cold. Unfeeling.
“Oh,” I whispered.
Ever since I could remember, I longed for a big family and a house brimming with love. I wanted kids in every room, breathless with laughter, and a husband who kissed me good-night. I wanted to make my brother an uncle, so he could enjoy being part of a family again, after losing our parents in that awful car crash.
Ryker clearly didn’t harbor the same hope for his future. He was content in his solitude.
Disappointment settled like a stone against my chest.
Silly, stupid girl,I thought.
Had I really believed that Ryker might want a family with me someday? I didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of catching his attention. I’m nothing more than his best friend’s little sister who makes a nuisance of herself.
When would I get it through my thick skull that he didn’t want me back?
