The apartment hummed around us, the old heater rattling beneath the window while rain tapped against the glass. Party noise still rang faintly in my ears even though we were blocks from Hockey House. My hand throbbed, but my chest hurt worse.
Ryan finally pushed away from the counter and crossed toward the couch. He didn’t sit beside me. Instead, he lowered himself into the armchair opposite it with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped between them, like whatever he was about to say carried weight.
“You ever notice how you talk about your life like it’s a checklist somebody handed you at birth?”
I stared at him. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means captain, defenseman, scholarship, scouts, North Cut, your mom, Skylar, Vivi, money, grades, practice, lifts, don’t fuck up, don’t fall apart, don’t let anyone see you sweat.” He counted each item on his fingers, his voice calm enough to piss me off. “You say it all like it’s normal.”
“It is normal.”
“No,hermano, it’s familiar. That’s not the same thing.”
I rolled my neck as tension pulled from my shoulders to the base of my skull. “I didn’t come here for therapy from a guy whose emotional range is intimidation and life lessons.”
Ryan’s mouth twitched. “I’m versatile. And for the record, I’m not the second-chances guy. Burn me, you lose me. There’s no in-between, so don’t get it twisted.”
“Great. Growth looks awesome on you.”
“Sit your ass down before you bleed on more of my ugly floor.”
I stayed standing because sitting felt too close to admitting I needed the conversation. “I’m fine.”
“You’re on the edge, East. One more trigger and you’ll fuck your life up.”
“I’m better than that.”
“You’re not.”
“Neither are you,” I shot back because if he wanted to pry, I could pry too. “Since we’re apparently doing emotional dentistry, what the hell was that with Charm?”
Ryan’s expression didn’t change, but the air around him did.
I caught it and latched on because deflection was a sport, and I was still good at something that night. “You look at her like she owes you money or a kiss. Could’ve been either.”
His eyes narrowed. “You noticing my business now?”
“Your business was sitting beside mine making eyes over beer and bad decisions.”
“It’s studying, East.”
“It was eye contact with sexual intention.”
A quiet laugh escaped him despite himself before he looked toward the window like the rain held answers he trusted more than me. “It’s just fun,ese.”
“Fun?”
“Yeah. Fun. Pretty girl. Sharp mouth. Family name that probably has its own wing at a museum.” His jaw shifted. “Charm is not the kind of girl whose people get excited when a barrio kid with foster files, tattoos, and a last name he got from his white junkie father walks through the door.”
That shut me up faster than I liked.
Ryan glanced back at me, reading my face. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re about to tell me that’s bullshit because friendship makes you optimistic.”
“I was going to say it’s bullshit because Charm doesn’t strike me as a woman who lets her family decide who she looks at.”
