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It took me long enough to realize how important it is to me to find a man who’ll see me, want me… love me. Not just a man to catch in my nets and haul home like a prize.
And that’s Riddick. Probably. If he doesn’t change his mind, too.
Certainly not Ryan.
I was mistaken. In many ways. I have to accept it. My quest has turned out to be an old wreck that’s hiding no treasure.
There is no gold. Only rust.
Part III
Prince Ryan refused to listen to his heart and abandoned Brylee and Riddick.
So Brylee wept and grew her hair long, binge-watched teenage dramas and bought the cat a climbing pole—and herself a similar toy, FYI—but to no avail:
Winter came to Brylee country. She baked cookies and cupcakes, and buttered muffins, without any double meaning whatsoever. She tried to forget Ryan.
At least she had Riddick. Together they’d weather the winter, with lots of sex to keep them warm. Together they’d try to move on and stop thinking of Ryan, to accept he was gone from their lives.
But as it turns out, stopping love is not that simple…
Chapter Thirty-Two
Upside Down Muffs
Riddick
Ryan parks the car in front of my building, and pulls on the handbrake. Rain is pelting the windshield, liquid sheets of glass.
“If all you wanted was a fuck,” I say calmly, way too calmly, “you could have said so. Maybe that’s all I wanted, too.”
He flinches, a tiny jerk. The only reason I see it is because I’m looking at him so intently. “Go to hell, Rid.”
“It’s no big deal. I fuck guys all the time. It was nothing special to me.”
A lie.
“What do you want from me?” Low. Pained.
He doesn’t get to play that role anymore. “You know what I want. What I wanted. I’m not so sure I do anymore.”
I’m trying to hurt him. Like he hurt me.
His face contorts. Maybe it’s working, or maybe he’s just annoyed I’m not out of his car yet. “Whatever, man.”
“If it was such a big deal to you, if it freaked you out so fucking bad…yeah, not like you’re talking about it, is it? Like if you’d never taken it up the ass before…”
This time I don’t expect the flinch and it twists something inside me.
Wait a fucking minute… what if he really hadn’t done it before? “Ryan—”
“It wasn’t a big deal to me, either.”
Jesus fucking Christ. “Of course not. I can tell.” I open the car door and jump out, groaning when my back screams agony at me. “Fuck.”
“Rid.” He climbs out of the car, too, in the rain, staring at me, the water running over his face. “You okay?”
“Shut up.” I lean against the car, clutching the back of my thigh, gritting my teeth.
