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He lifts a brow at that. “Just like you can say no to hunting with your father?”
My lips smack in irritation. “That’s different.”
“How so?”
“Because I’m just a broke college kid, and you’re…” I gesture at him, my hand flailing vaguely. “You’re you.”
A bitter laugh escapes him. “Exactly. I’m me. Ryann Callahan, heir to one of the richest men on the West Coast and future CEO of his company. We all have roles to play, Shilo.”
Another chilly gust sneaks through the branches, and I lick my lips, exhaling a puff of visible breath. His words from Thanksgiving echo in my mind. “So, what, then? You’re just expected to… date her until she hands over the tech your dad wants? Even though you don’t like her?”
“In a nutshell, yes,” he admits, unbuttoning his tux jacket and stepping closer. He drapes it over my shoulders, enveloping me in his warmth. “Did you know my mother and father didn’t even meet until their wedding day? Arrangements like this aren’t as common in the States, but they’re still practiced in other countries. Especially among the wealthy.”
“But what about your brother and my sister? They’re together by choice.”
He sighs, his golden-green eyes sad as his hands rest gently on my shoulders. “Declan and I are close now, but it wasn’t always that way. When we immigrated here, my mother left and took him with her. We were raised apart until our teens. Dec doesn’t have the responsibilities I do.”
That explains a lot, honestly. Sweet, smiley Declan and stone-cold Ryann—polar opposites. My chest tightens for them both. Was Ryann’s mother not part of his life at all?
“But you’re twins,” I press, still struggling to understand. “Shouldn’t the same rules apply to both of you?”
“It’d make my life a hell of a lot easier if they did. But no.”
“Well…” My voice trails off as I glance through the willow branches toward the glowing ballroom. “What does this mean for us?”
Heavy silence stretches between us. I don’t dare look at him until his hands slip from my shoulders as he takes a step back.
“You made it clear on Thanksgiving,” he says softly, “that there would be no us.”
“Yeah, but—“ The words catch in my throat. But then you let me sleep in your bed. “I thought things changed.”
I thought you cared about me.
Ryann runs a hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled, before crossing his arms. His white shirt stretches over his biceps, and I hate how distracting it is. “You told me you couldn’t keep feelings out of the equation.”
“And what about her?” I scoff angrily, my face heating with embarrassment. “Is this… whatever you have with her just going to be casual, too?”
“It’s complicated.” His voice is flat, lifeless—like he’s already given up. No emotion, no fight. Just cold resignation. He’s like a robot following orders, and I suddenly feel ridiculous for even caring. When he mutters a half-hearted apology, I can’t take it anymore.
Shoving his jacket into his arms, I turn and run back inside, ignoring him when he calls after me, the weight of his indifference leaving me hollow.
Inside, Carpenter stands next to Declan, a glass of champagne in hand. I march right up to him and snatch it away without a word.
“Hey, Shilo, you wouldn’t believe what—oh, okay.” Carpenter stops mid-sentence, raising a brow as I down the entire glass in one go. He shares a glance with KC, who leans in, his eyes flicking toward the door behind me.
“Ry just came in through the same door you did. What’s up? What happened?”
I shake my head, not in the mood to talk, and grab KC’s drink, draining that one too.
I’ve never been much of a drinker, but there’s a first time for everything, I guess.
“Slow down, Igs. You’re going to make yourself sick.”
Maybe that’s the point.
Ignoring my sister’s warning, I wipe my mouth and turn just in time to see Ryann cross the room. He pauses next to what’s-her-face, leaning in to whisper something at her ear, his lips so close to her skin it makes my stomach churn. His hand rests lightly on her hip as he gives her a small smile.
And I hate—absolutely hate—that I wish I were her.
