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“Listen, I told Enzo no when he offered to help, and I’m telling you the same.”
“You’re a hell of a lot more stubborn than I thought,” he said, still touching my ankle. “But if you’re serious about not caring whether or not I date Calista, well, she’s not taking the money. So, why shouldn’t it go to you, then? You’re helping me. Consider it a business transaction,” he pressed. The mention of Calista hit me like I’d done a belly flop into a pool, and it stung.
“Not up for discussion.” I flicked my finger, motioning I was ready to move on, and he grunted. “My turn for a question.” I needed to talk about something else. Anything but my money problem or his issue. I couldn’t stomach the thought of him spending alone time with Calista.
“Fine. Go ahead.” He set the balled-up wrapper alongside his jeaned leg, but he’d yet to stop touching my ankle. It was . . . distracting, to say the least.
“You said you haven’t been in a serious relationship. How come?”
“You remember me sharing that last night, huh?”
“I remember everything from last night,” I admitted.
“Well.” He pulled his hand free from my leg as if he’d just realized what he’d been doing. “War is probably the reason.” He grabbed at the tanned skin of his neck. “Fear of being cheated on while deployed, too. And also the fear of not being cheated on and having to commit to someone I knew I could never love.”
“Well, that’s a lot to unpack.” I blinked in surprise. “Why do you feel you can’t ever love someone?”
He went quiet, appearing uncomfortable. “I don’t know.”
But you do know, don’t you? He just didn’t want to share.
“In my twenties, I was too young. Too focused on trying to be like one of those heroes I grew up reading about in comics.” He lowered his hand to his lap. “And then in my thirties, I kind of forgot there was life outside of the Navy.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t sure what to say next, and he didn’t give me a chance.
“My turn. Hmmm.” He smirked before asking, “Ever jump from a plane?”
I rolled my eyes, knowing he knew the answer to that. “If that’s your way of asking me to go skydiving for our next little adventure . . . that’ll be a hard pass from me. Rock climbing is extreme enough.”
He smiled. “Fair enough.”
“And that also counts as your question.” My turn. I needed to be on my feet for my next question. It was going to be an uncomfortable one. I left his truck bed and waited for him to do the same.
“Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to be a fan of this next one?” he asked once his shoes hit the ground.
I closed the space between us and reached for his sunglasses, needing to look him in the eyes for this. He didn’t stop me from taking them off, only looked at me with worried brown eyes.
It was now or never.
“I just want to know something. And it’s not because I still have feelings for him . . .” It’s so I won’t feel so guilty for having feelings for someone else back then. Based on the grave look on his face, he knew what was coming. “Anthony, he cheated on me, didn’t he?”
Ryan dragged a hand through his dark hair, mussing it up as he gave me his profile, gaze moving to the playground far off in the distance. We were near an empty soccer field. Totally private. “You sure you want to know this?”
“Sounds like an answer to me,” I whispered, then nudged his arm with his sunglasses, offering them back.
He took them and faced me, his lips a hard slash on his otherwise stoic face. “Yeah, he cheated.”
I’d never cheated. Well, not unless fantasizing about Anthony’s brother here and there counted. And maybe it did. Maybe that’s why I felt such relief knowing Anthony had never truly loved me. How could he if he was sleeping around?
“Did you know he was cheating on me, but you looked away because he’s your brother? Protected him?” This would be the only painful part—finding out whether Ryan was complicit in Anthony’s asshole endeavors with other women.
Ryan’s jaw tightened as he slid his aviators back on. We studied each other for a few uncomfortable moments, only a few ragged breaths passing between us.
“I only knew of one time for certain. And only because I was visiting him one weekend while he had a game in Tampa, and a woman opened his hotel door instead of him,” he shared. “After I punched my brother in the face, I told him if he didn’t tell you about the affair, I would.” He looked away from me, and I grabbed his arm, urging him back around, my heart in my throat. “He took the cowardly way out and broke up with you instead of fessing up. And I let everyone blame me for the breakup because I didn’t want to see you hurt any more than I assumed you already were.”
I let go of his arm and wedged my thumbnail between my teeth, my thoughts all over the place. The man who’d do anything for his brother had chosen my feelings instead? Let people hate him to protect hurting me? I didn’t know what to say.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his tone almost hoarse.
