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A frown tugs at my lips. “Why would you say that?” I’ve never known Ryder to be anything other than confident. I hate to admit just how attractive his self-assured attitude is.
Another weighty silence falls over us as he stares into the darkness that surrounds the vehicle.
“I don’t know,” he says with a sigh. “There’s just been some shit going on, and it’s been messing with my head.”
“Like what?” I twist more toward him.
He drags a hand through his hair. “Just with this new coach. I guess you could say we’re not gelling.”
My mind tumbles back to the arena as I carefully comb over the game. Only now do I realize that he was benched during the third period. In all the years I’ve watched Ryder play, it’s not something that’s ever happened before. I didn’t think much of it at the time but…
Coach Kaminski loved Ryder. I didn’t realize there was an issue with the new one. I’ve heard Mav mention that he’s tough and regimented but nothing more.
“I’m sorry. It sucks that Coach K left right before the start of your senior season.”
He shrugs. “I can’t really blame him for it. A coaching job in the NHL is a dream come true for him. But yeah, it was definitely shitty timing.”
“Have you talked to my dad about it?”
He spears me with a glance before shaking his head. “Nah. I’m not gonna whine about it to Brody. I just need to work harder and stay focused.”
I chew my lower lip before saying hesitantly, “I don’t know, maybe he could give you some advice on how to work with the guy. Does Dad know him?”
“I think so. They probably played against each other in the pros.”
My brows rise. “Interesting.”
“As for working with him?” A mirthless laugh falls from his lips. “There’s no way to do that. The man is a grade A dick. If I’d known Coach K was bailing, I would have done the same. Then this wouldn’t be an issue. But there’s nothing I can do about it now. I don’t have any other choice but to stick out the season.”
Impulse takes over and my hand drifts to his chiseled jawline.
If I’d paused for even a second to contemplate the gesture, there’s no way I’d be bold enough to touch him so intimately. That’s not the kind of relationship we have.
Just when I consider drawing away and pretending it never happened, his hand settles over mine. I release a steady puff of air as all of my reservations fall away, leaving a strange warmth in its place. Light stubble covers his jaw as if he hasn’t used a razor in a day or so.
How many times have I wondered what the sculpted lines and planes of his face would feel like beneath my fingertips?
Too many to count.
Minutes tick by before I clear my throat. “I wish there was something I could do to help.”
“I appreciate the offer, but there’s not. This is something I need to work through on my own.”
“Just know that I’m here if you want to talk.”
“Thanks.” His gaze stays locked on mine. “Answer something for me?”
“Maybe.”
His lips quirk, but his voice remains soft. “How many guys have you slept with?”
My belly hollows out as I quip, “Just guys?”
When his eyes widen, I burst out laughing.
“Three. Okay? Just three,” I confess.
“Would it be totally douchey if I admit that the image of you and another girl getting it on is totally hot?”
