Page 76 of Lavender and Linebackers

“What can I say, the ladies are appreciative. Those candles can burn all night long too.”

“Someone make him stop.” Darius groans.

“Do we think he’s talking about Tammy? Does he invite her inside when there’s bad weather?” Tyler teases, and everyone in the semicircle around the board starts chuckling.

He doesn’t take the bait, though. He wiggles his brows, and as he walks off, he says, “Tammy knows exactly where she belongs.”

This makes the guys laugh harder.

Chapter 25

Alice

Over the past four days, I have stewed. I get angry. I cry. I feel defeated.

Over the past four days, all of the Tampa Bay area watches as a tropical storm, now a Category 2 hurricane, heads our way. Kelli left a few days ago to visit her parents, but the moment my zone is told to evacuate, Ryder calls me and all but demands I come to him.

It’s not the first time he’s texted me since last weekend. He has multiple times a day, every day. I’ve just chosen not to respond.

He’s not making excuses, and he’s not trying to justify his actions. He tells me about his days, lets me know he’s thinking about me, and then closes by saying he’s sorry.

And deep down, I know he is. Our friendship was the realest thing I’d ever had in my life. It surpasses what I have with Kelli. It was open, honest, and spanned eras of our lives. We grew together and loved deeply as one does with their friends. Do I think that he was in love with me, like he says he was? I do. If he wasn’t, would he really have cut me off like that? But at the same time, if he was, how could he leave me like I don’t matter? I understand people react differently when placed under stress, and maybe this was him going into survival mode, but where does that leave us now?

Are we supposed to be friends again?

Are we headed toward something more?

Knowing what I know, do I even want something more?

I don’t want to be with someone who runs away from the hard times. I need someone who will stand next to me, and we’ll fight the world together. I am a cautious person. I’ve always been mentally focused. I overthink everything, and unfortunately, I’m not usually looking for the bright side. I’m looking for potential fallouts so I can avoid them.

But . . . it’s Ryder.

Other than this one huge, life-altering thing, he was always my safe space. Next to him, I knew I didn’t need to worry about potential risks, and life was more optimistic.

Speaking of risks, I’ve waited as long as I can, and after he calls me and begs me to call him back, I eventually tell him I’ll come. The wind has already started, and the rain has made an appearance as it blows in at an angle. It’s going to be a long afternoon and an even longer night.

Could I go to my parents’ house? Yes. But I don’t have it in me to fight with him anymore. He wants me with him. That’ll give us both peace of mind, and well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious to see his house.

I pack a bag, grab the food that I bought in case the storm knocked out the power, plug in his address, and make my way north to his home. A home I’ve thought about more than I care to admit.

Turning down his driveway, I can’t help but tear up at the gorgeous house in front of me. It looks exactly like the home he always said he would buy, a home that I had no part in helping him choose. It’s two stories, surrounded by oaks, pines, and palm trees. There’s a circular drive at the end, and I can see his truck is parked in the garage. Without even stepping a foot inside, I know that I’m going to love it.

As I reach the garage, Ryder is standing there directing me to park inside in the vacant spot. On a normal day, this isn’t something I would ever do, but with the storm, I understand why. Slowly, I pull in and park the car. Neither of us says anything as we gather the things I brought, and I follow him inside.

The first room is what most refer to as a mudroom, but it’s also his laundry room. The floor is black-and-white tile with a rug just before the opposite door, which leads into the living space. Along one wall is a long wooden bench, and over it are hooks and open cubbies. Along the other wall are his washer and dryer, a sink, and more open shelves over the machines, plus floor-to-ceiling ones at the end that are large enough to hold a laundry basket each. He’s got a bunch of shoes lined up under the bench, random things hanging on the hooks like an umbrella, a hoodie, and an industrial-looking flashlight. There’s a stack of washed clothes on top of the dryer. It smells like fresh linens, and it’s so domestic that I feel like I’m seeing things I shouldn’t see. This is his personal space. This is Ryder unfiltered.

“Are you coming?” His voice catches me off guard, and I find him staring at me curiously.

“Yeah, just looking for where I should leave my shoes,” I tell him, trying to hide the fact that I’m an emotional wreck.

“Oh. Anywhere in there. It doesn’t matter.” He turns and walks into what I’m assuming is the kitchen.

Neatly, I place my flip-flops next to a pair of his sneakers and enter the main part of the house. It’s beautiful here with its large open space, windows that cover the back wall facing the lake, and its newly done kitchen. My heart starts hammering in my chest. It’s a kitchen that I would have picked for myself if given the chance to design it.

“What’s wrong?”

I look over and find Ryder standing on the opposite side of the kitchen island. He’s abandoned my bag of food, and with his arms out in front of him and his palms flat, he’s leaning in a way that makes me think he’s bracing for the worst.