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“I love you, too, best friend,” I replied with a smile. We were fourteen, and I assumed he meant he loved me as a friend.
He looked at me then, his hair as pale as the moonlight. “Forever.”
I nodded. “And always.
I press my hand to my stomach as emotions overwhelm me. Then I walk over to the nightstand where my bag is and dig out my phone to send Jessa a message, noting it’s after midnight.
Me: Hey, are you busy or can you talk?
When she doesn’t respond, I assume she’s hooking up with Henry.
I sink onto the bed and let the silence wrap around me for a while. Sleep is beckoning me, but I have to get out of this dress first.
Collecting the front of it, I stand up and leave my room to find Blaise since, out of the three of them, I feel the most comfortable with him. Plus, he’s already seen me in the little getup I’m wearing under the dress. The problem is that his bedroom is the one stop I didn’t get to make on the tour, thanks to my bailing out of it.
I stand in the middle of the hallway, trying to figure out what to do. The soft lull of music is drifting from downstairs, and it sounds an awful lot like a song Blaise would listen to, all angsty and full of pain-searing lyrics.
Assuming he’s downstairs, I wander down the stairs, the music thumping louder at the bottom floor. I search around the bar, to no avail, so I move on to where the sitting area is. As the sofas come into my view, I pause.
Ryder is sitting in a chair with papers scattered across the coffee table in front of him. He’s holding a glass of whiskey and frowning at the papers. He’s also still wearing his slacks and dress shirt, but all the buttons are undone, giving me a good glimpse of his tattooed chest.
The sight of him shirtless isn’t anything new to me, but that was years ago. He’s nineteen now, and lean muscles carve across his more muscular body.
I deliberate asking him where Blaise is, but I’m unsure I’m ready to have a one-on-one conversation with Ryder.
I slowly back away.
“Why are you wandering around in your dress?” he asks without glancing up.
I freeze.Dammit.
“Because.”
He sifts through the papers, and then his gaze finds mine. “I thought you’d be eager to get out of it, considering it’s a reminder of the ceremony.”
“I never minded the dress,” I stress.
He just stares at me, and it’s annoyingly unnerving. Then he lifts the glass of whiskey to his lips, takes a drink, and sets the glass down.
“Why are you down here?” he asks as he reclines in the chair.
Did Reece and Blaise tell him about my meltdown? It doesn’t seem like it, but Ryder can act like an emotionless robot at times.
I lift my brows. “Am I not allowed to be down here?”
“No, but I assumed you’d be asleep already.” He fiddles with the ring on his finger. “Do you need something … like food? I didn’t see you eat anything at the reception.”
Truthfully, I’m starving, but I won’t admit it. “I’m fine.”
He releases a tolerant sigh. “You know, none of this will work if you refuse to cooperate with anything.”
“I don’t even know what this is,” I remind him.
His brows furrow. “Reece and Blaise didn’t tell you anything?”
“No, they said you should be present. And you were busy, so …” I shrug.
He twists the ring on his finger as he looks from the papers back to me. “Do you want me to make you something to eat?”
