Ryder watches the realization slot into place on my face. “Not the reunion you had in mind, huh? Were you gonna slap me or something? Should I duck?”
“No,” I say defensively, like the very thought is ridiculous.More like a roundhouse kick. He arches an eyebrow and I sigh, my shoulders sagging in defeat. “I was going to look fantastic and be very aloof,” I admit, running my hand over the tangleof frizz atop my head self-consciously.Damn humidity selling me down the river.
“Well, you’re one for two. You haven’t aged a day,” he says with heat in his gaze, his eyes tracking down my body appreciatively, and I have to swat down the butterflies that swarm to life in my stomach. “But that was the gasp heard round the world.”
“Your face is the ultimate jump scare, what can I say?” I respond sweetly. I’m finally regaining my footing, the familiar tempo of our teasing banter awakening a dormant corner of my brain from a long slumber.It’s all coming back to me now.
Ryder’s grin is amused. I think it’s coming back to him too. “So are you gonna keep me sweating out here, or are you going to invite me in?”
“I don’t know who you bribed to get my address, but it’s got to be illegal,” I grumble as I begrudgingly open the door wider to let him in. “Against stalker laws. A HIPAA violation. Something.”
He chuckles as he breezes past me into the house, and I chafe at how quickly he’s making himself right at home.Waltzing back into my life like he never left.It’s like ten years are gone in a blink. I wish I could be half as breezy and nonchalant as he is. I am hyper-chalant.
He sidles up to the kitchen island, setting his keys down and leaning a hip against the stone countertop. “I got one of these too,” he says, gesturing toward the flamboyant gift basket.
“Want mine?” I quip, nudging it his way, then move to grab a Pellegrino from the fridge. I hold up the bottle in silent offer, and when he accepts with a nod of his head, I slide him one across the island.
“Come on, you’ve got to try the ‘artisanal pretzels,’ ” he says in a snooty voice, then digs through the basket until he locates his bounty and holds them up in triumph. “They’re your favorite: dark chocolate with sea salt. I ate like half a bag already.”
I cast him a wary look.They’re your favorite.What’s he playing at with this? It’s unnerving, the way he’s acting like everything’s fine between us, like no time has passed.Like nothing ever happened.
“I’m good, thanks. But help yourself.”
He shrugs as if to say,Suit yourself, then does just that, ripping open the bag and grabbing a handful. We regard each other cautiously as he chews, neither of us wanting to speak first—or perhaps not knowing what to say.
He finally breaks the silence. “Sorry for just showing up here.”
The bold-faced lie makes me laugh out loud. “No you’re not.”
His guilty grin totally exposes him. “I really am! I know it doesn’t make a ton of sense, but I think part of me just thought you’d be expecting me.”
I snap my fingers. “You know something, you’re right. You antagonizing me the second I arrive in Seafolly is absolutely something I should have anticipated.”
He clutches his heart, mock-wounded. “Ouch. And here I thought the statute of limitations on my juvenile misbehavior would have expired by now.”
“Never,” I tell him. “I’m taking that grudge to the grave.”
If possible, his grin grows wider. He rakes his fingers through his hair, a gesture so familiar it makes my stomach hurt. “I’ve missed this.”
I blink at him, saying nothing.
He finally breaks eye contact, tossing another pretzel in his mouth. “Nice place you’ve got here,” he says as he munches, glancing around the spacious room approvingly. “We’ve sure come a long way from those crappy Riverview Apartments, haven’t we?”
My chest tightens at the mention of the extended-stay apartment complex—lovingly nicknamed by Ryder and Jase as Riverspew—where all theLost Lettercast and crew were put up for the duration of filming. The accommodations were mediocre at best—run-down and no frills, with dated appliances and faded couches that leached a mildewy cloud every time you flopped down on them—but they were also a ridiculous amount of fun, like a college dorm where all your friends lived down the hall (or at least, what I imagine a dorm would’ve been like if I’d actually gone to college). Despite the place’s shortcomings, I remember it all fondly: the late nights staying up talking, swapping stories of other sets and running through the next day’s scenes; our pathetic attempts at cooking when we’d get back from set too late to order takeout; the pranks Ryder and Jase would play on each other where I’d be alternately recruited in collusion or caught in the crossfire. And since none of us were household names yet, we were able to fly completely under the radar, coming and going as we pleased without anyone giving us a second glance. It was the last time any of us were able to get away with that.
I smile wistfully. “It had its charms.”
The corner of his mouth tugs up suggestively. “I can recall a few.”
So can I.Like the lazy weekends spent in bed and the longnights making love, our bodies a restless tangle of impatient limbs. The way the sunlight cut through the blinds, dappling the skin of his bare chest. The feel of his fingertips on my back, writing out secret messages for me to decipher. The sound of his breathing as he slept, his head burrowed into the crook of my neck, his ruffled hair tickling my collarbone. The way Ryder’s looking at me now tells me he knowsexactlywhat I’m remembering.
Instead of confirming his suspicions, I narrow him a look, feigning disapproval. “What Imeantwas that no one knew who we were. Or cared, for that matter. It was just…a simpler time,” I trail off, peeling the corner of the Pellegrino label.
Even though I’m looking down, I can still feel him studying me, and I don’t have to see his eyes to know they’re filled with curiosity and concern. I think I could feel those eyes from another room. No one ever had the ability to read my moods quite like he did.
“Who were you expecting?” he asks suddenly, amid the quiet.
I glance up. “Hmm?”
