“You could go to the parade.”
“With a bunch of couples and families? No thanks. It’s bad enough Sloan and the others are making me go to a ball by myself, I don’t need to tack the parade on top.”
“If you don’t want to go to the ball, then don’t. It’s not like youhaveto be there. Pretty sure I’m the only one getting forced into it.” He gives another humorless laugh.
I stop cold, closing my eyes to hide my embarrassment. “Shit. I forgot about the event being in honor of your brother. I’m sorry. That was insensitive.”
“Don’t apologize for being honest. You’re just about the only person who is.” His shoulders seem to deflate as he shoves his hands in his pockets.
“What does that mean?”
Ryder exhales deeply. “Pretty much everyone else pities me so they don’t say what they’re really thinking. Well, Deacon might have takena few shots—” he rubs the back of his neck almost bashfully “—but no one else has called me on my bullshit.”
“What about Carter? He forced you onto the mountain, right?” He follows as I start walking again.
“Are you kidding? He bailed me out and is giving me special favors instead of getting pissed at me.”
“That’s not a good thing?” We pause outside my door so I can unlock it, and he reluctantly follows me inside.
“Maybe. I don’t know.” He shakes his head as I close the door. “I’m just tired of people treating me like I might break if they say or do the wrong thing. You’re the only one who doesn’t. Why is that?” He tilts his head to the side, studying me.
Stalling to choose the right words, I hang our coats by the door before turning to face him. “It’s hard to be genuinely empathetic about something you don’t understand. I don’t know what it’s like to lose a limb, or my sight. So, I try not to treat the people who are going through that any different because it might come off as ignorant or insensitive. And in your case, well, I have been in your shoes, and I know how frustrating it is to have people you’ve known forever suddenly look at you differently. I figure you’ve got enough of that. Besides, most of the people I work with are way worse off than you, and they don’t break without special treatment, so I figure you won’t either.”
“What makes you think I’m like them?” His voice is so soft I can barely hear it, and I know without having to ask he’s thinking about Max.
“You get the same joy out of riding they do. You seem to be fighting it, but I see it. Part of you wants to move on.”
Ryder shakes his head, lips pressed into a firm line. “That’s for Max, not me. He lost a fuckin’ leg, the least I can do it act like I’m enjoying myself when I ride with him.”
“Bullshit.”
“What?” His eyes narrow to little slits.
“You heard me. I call bullshit. You love being out there. You even had fun teaching me. I don’t know why you’re afraid to admit it but…”
“BECAUSE HE’S GONE.” The shout is so unexpected, I backpedal until I hit the wall. “He loved riding, and he can’t enjoy it anymore, so why should I?”
It takes me a moment to process his words, but once I do I scoff. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“What?” he seethes, chest heaving with contempt.
I’ve never been physically scared of Ryder, though I’ve also never seen him this close to the edge. I ball my fists at my side, ready to stand my ground. “By your logic I shouldn’t enjoy mystery novels because my grandpa who loved them died six years ago.”
“That’s not… You can’t compare an old man and my brother.”
“Why not?” I shrug. “They’re both gone, so that means I can’t enjoy the things they used to. They took it with them when they died, right?”
“It’s different,” he grits through a locked jaw as he leans into my face. “I should’ve been there. I shouldn’t be here.”
“But you are. If you can’t handle that, then go back to your bottle. Otherwise, stop hiding behind it and start living.” I’m pushing, but I get the sense after weeks of back and forth I’m getting through to him, and if I’m right, he might finally start to move on. He might let me all the way in.
Ryder slams his palm into the wall beside my head. “It’s not that simple.”
“It’s not that complicated, either. All you have to do is acknowledge you still have things worth living for. Snowboarding. Your friends and family. Me?” My voice is shaky as that last word comes out, probably because I didn’t intend to say it. Not yet, anyway. I can’t take it back though, so I let it linger between us, my breath trapped in my lungs as I wait for him to respond.
Chest heaving, Ryder glares at me, though there’s a hint of pain mixed with the anger in his eyes. I’m expecting him to storm off, to run away from the truth he’s not ready to face like he has been for weeks. Instead, he threads his fingers in my hair and pulls me to him, crushing our lips together.
His tongue delves into my mouth, licking forcefully along mine. Unrestrained. Furious almost, with a hint of desperation hidden just beneath the urgency. As if his body made a decision before his mind could catch up, and now he’s lost to the pull between us.
