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“It’s okay to lean on me, Kat. I promise.”
“Okay, thank you.”
I say good morning to Mom before heading upstairs. But the second I step under the spray, the tears come, hitting me out of nowhere like a tidal wave.
I barely withstand the force of them, my body slumping against the tiles as I cry into the shower stream.
Wishing things were different.
* * *
Aunt Cassie handled Mom’s routine like a pro. By the time I finally dragged myself from the shower, weary and exhausted from all the crying, Mom was dressed and wolfing down her breakfast while she chatted with her sister-in-law about anything and everything.
I didn’t have the heart, or the strength, to interrupt them. So I did what I did best.
I stuck my head around the door, told them I was heading out for a bit, and then left.
If I was a normal girl with actual friends, I would have texted them to meet me down at the river. But I’m not normal, and MC aside, I don’t have friends. Which is why I’m sitting here alone, staring at my cell phone wondering if anyone cares where I am or who I’m with.
The sudden ping startles me but I take it as the much needed sign it is. It’s probably River checking in to see—
“Ryder? What do you want?” I murmur as I scan the text.
Unknown: Hoping this is the right number or I’m going to look like a dumbass. How are you feeling today, darlin’?
Kat: Ryder?
Unknown: Expecting somebody else?
My chest tightens. But I ignore the pang of loneliness his words invoke. I store his number and text him back.
Kat: How’d you get my number?
No way he’d risk asking someone at the club for it.
Ryder: I have my ways.
My lips curve as I flop back into the overgrown grass and figure out a reply.
Kat: What are you up to?
Ryder: A man never tells his secrets…
Kat: We could trade?
Ryder: Trade secrets? Sounds kind of dangerous…
A thrill goes through me. He isn’t the person I hoped to find on the end of the message but he cared enough to reach out.
Kat: I like dangerous…
Ryder: Why does that not surprise me?
Kat: Want to go to a bar and get drunk? I know a place that’ll serve me without question.
He doesn’t reply and shame curdles in my stomach. He probably thinks I’m propositioning him.
God, I’m an idiot.
