“So,” Skye says, linking her arm with mine after she passes Ever off to Parker. There is something adorable about a brick-wall of an athlete with a tiny baby strapped to his chest. Skye tugs my arm, urging me to walk a little faster. “How is the reignited love going?”
“I’m literally writing a second-chance romance as we speak,” Wren says. “I’mlivingfor this.”
A smile splits over my face. “It’s a whirlwind.”
“I love whirlwinds,” Skye says with a sigh, almost like her mind went somewhere else.
“It’s almost like he never left,” I say. “But it’s different too. We’re different.”
“A decade will do that to people.”
The connection returned naturally, but it’s like we’re clinging tightly to each other more than before, as if we’re afraid any second it will all disappear again.
How am I supposed to put into words how the second half of my heart started beating again?
“Well, at least his face isn’t going to age early from the frown lines,” Skye says with a laugh. “Seriously, I was about to spike his water with uppers during training pretty soon.”
“Skye,” Wren says, trying not to laugh.
“Too blunt? I mean, I’m only half serious,” Skye says. “I’d never really drug someone, but with Ryder, I’m just saying . . . I’ve thought about it.”
“I’ve never thought he was grumpy, more guarded,” Wren says. “Layered.”
“That’s exactly how I’d describe him.” I steal a glance over my shoulder. Ryder is wearing his reserved smile while Parker teases Dax about something, but he’s at ease. I’m not sure he even realizes it, but his teammates are a safe place, and I can only be grateful he found it while we were apart.
I look back at Wren. “He’s always been layered. Quiet and aloof on the outside, but get beyond the first few layers and you get the beautiful heart.”
Skye sighs again. “I’ve always wondered what made him stand to the side. He’s loyal as they come, and the guy has stood up for me in the best ways, but there’s always been something keeping him at a distance. I should’ve known it was over a lost lover.”
“More like a friend,” I say before I think better of it.
“Your brother,” Skye whispers.
“I know as much as you, but something happened,” I’m quick to say, a little desperate to change the subject.
I need to learn to keep my mouth shut. Ryder doesn’t talk about Drake, and my brother doesn’t talk about Ryder. The last thing either would want is me blabbing about the mystery of best friends to anyone who’ll hear it.
Skye and Wren must read my face. They steal a glance at each other and don’t press, and start into ideas for Wren’s book.
By the time we reach the end of the Strip, the guys have joined in the spicy conversation, and I’m laughing hard enough that any second a rib might snap. Somewhere along the way, Ryder took my hand, holding onto me like his tether in a storm.
I’m not sure when the last time was that I was this content, but there remains a shadow. One we need to face sooner or later.
The ride home is filled with easy conversation and comfortable pauses between us. Sometimes we stop to listen to music, sometimes we talk about the field house and how far along we’ve come in so short a time.
But in one of the lulls, I find the guts to broach the subject I can’t pretend doesn’t exist. “I, um, I told my mom about us.”
Ryder’s eyes widen. “And?”
“She’s planning the wedding.” I chuckle. If anyone loves Ryder Huntington, it’s Marianne Williams. “But it has me thinking.”
“Careful, Tweets.”
I try to pinch him, but he swats me away. “I’m serious. Ryd, you are this big, enormous piece of my heart.”
He offers me a sexy half-grin and brings the back of my hand to his lips.
With a sigh, I go on, “But the other piece is my family. It’s Drake.”
