“What about the job?”
“I was too hasty the other day.” Ryder looks to the ground. “And surprised to see you.”
“I could say the same thing.”
“I know. I apologize if I reacted poorly.”
“Poorly?” I snorted. “Sure, let’s call it that. Ryder, I know being taken off guard is your least favorite thing, but I’m not going to even consider working for this project if you look at me like I’m the plague. I’m sorry, I’ve left a job that delivered much the same on the daily. I’m not in a rush to go back to the same thing.”
His eyes narrow. “Haven mistreated you?”
Oh. That grumbly, touch-her-and-die rasp is bad for my heart.
No. Stop. I’m being ridiculous. He isn’t protective of me. Not anymore. I’d be wise to stop reading into every twitch of his brow, every shift of his body. He’s not fighting an urge to stand closer. He’s not desperate to touch my skin. He’s only here because he needs something.
“It was tolerable,” I say. “Until it wasn’t.”
Ryder rubs his chin, eyes on me, almost like he’s debating on whether I’m being sincere or not.
Well, I’m not his problem to deal with anymore.
After a long pause, he says, “If you’re still interested, I think your expertise would be valuable for the field house.”
“Will you micromanage?”
“No. I have a vision, but I’m out of my element with aesthetics.”
“Will you question every idea I have?”
“Only if I’d like to understand more about it.”
I almost smile. He’ll ask a thousand questions. The man, if he’s still the same, was relentlessly curious.
Ryder’s face softens. I wish it wouldn’t. He looks too familiar with the secret smile in the corner of his mouth. I like to think of him as an overbearing, grumbly boar. Makes the knife in my heart less noticeable.
“It’s a three-month project,” he says. “You would be overseen by me, but Dallas Anderson will be the final word on everything. If you’re comfortable with that, I would like to offer you the position.”
Three months of solid work. Three months of not shoveling pig poop or filing busywork in a cubicle. Three months of Ryder.
The last one is almost enough to bring me to say no. I don’t trust myself. After everything, the sight of his face sends my heart into a frenzy. Unfinished business hangs between us like a two-ton weight.
I wonder which of us will break first?
Heart racing, I hold out my hand. “I’ll do it.”
Ryder hesitates, then slowly, he takes my hand. A hateful burn of tears builds behind my eyes. Not swift enough he’d notice, but an ache jumps to the center of my chest. A longing I forgot existed.
I’ve signed myself up for three months of misery.
Ryder pulls back in a hurry. “I’ll have the forms and contract sent to you as soon as possible. Oh, if you agreed, Dallas Anderson would like to meet you at the All-Star game next week. I’ll make sure to send over the passes to the suite.” He digs into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “I, um, I should get your number. Griffin had your card, but it’s your office number—”
“It’s the same.” I’m testing him. Stupid, I know, but I want to see if he ever deleted the contact. I still have his old cellphone number in my phone even a decade later.
My heart jumps when he nods and returns his phone back to his pocket. “I’ll be in touch then.”
“Ava? We were—” Drake’s voice chokes off when my brother comes around the curve in the drive. His face pales, his mouth parts when he sees his former best friend. “Ryder?”
Ryder steps back like I’ve tazed him. The two guys near the truck bolt into action. They stand at either one of Ryder’s shoulders like his personal bodyguards. His gaze takes in my brother, but in no time the dark scowl deepens to something like hate. “Drake.”
