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“He never let me work. It’s been ages. What do I do now?” Her dark brows slanted. “Maybe I can help out at the restaurant until I figure things out?”
And I’d love nothing more than that. But how could I tell her I couldn’t afford to pay her? “You’ll get through this,” I deflected.
“But seriously, please tell me about Ryan. Distract me.”
I released her hand and urged her to drink up. “I don’t know how it happened. It just did.”
“And it was amazing, right?” She grinned.
“I’ve never been kissed like that before, and I have no clue how to settle for anything less than that from now on.”
“Who says you have to settle for less?” She took another big gulp of her drink. “I get that it’s awkward. And I remember what I said to you about Ryan and Calista. But that’s different.”
My stomach grumbled at her words, and not from hunger. “Why would it be different? If anything, wouldn’t it be worse?” I closed my eyes, remembering his words last night. “The man hates the smell of my lavender soap because it reminds him of when I was with Anthony. I can’t imagine if we were to try and do more—what else might trigger him? Have him remembering the fact his brother had sex with me?”
“It’s not an easy situation. But, what if he’s the one you were always meant to be with? And Anthony was just the detour to get you to each other. Maybe it wasn’t your time back then. He was in the Navy, and you were focusing on your career.”
And now Anthony’s brought us back together again. I kept that thought to myself. Not that I knew the actual reason Anthony was in trouble. Ryan was acting like Fort Knox when it came to sharing information.
“I just wish there’d never been an Anthony-detour in the first place. I don’t even know why we dated.”
“Mom, that’s why. Same reason I dated Thomas.” Maria rolled her eyes. “Always setting us up.”
“Clearly she doesn’t know our taste in men,” I finished for her, something Ryan had realized, too. “It looks like you’re actually attracted to bad boys.” Not that I considered Enzo to be one, but he’d had his dark moments before moving to Charlotte.
“Mm. I don’t know. From where I stand, Enzo and Ryan are the good guys who protected us. Thomas and Anthony are the ones that caused us pain. They’re the bad guys.”
I hadn’t told her about Anthony’s cheating, not in light of the Thomas news. I wasn’t sure if it mattered, though. “That’s the thing, Anthony didn’t hurt me. Believe it or not, I felt relieved when it was over.” I swallowed. “But Ryan . . .” My hand went to my mouth at the realization my lower lip was trembling.
“I never knew you had feelings for Ryan. You hid it well. But it’s obvious now.” Maria scooted closer. “It sounds like you went with the safe choice in your twenties. You dated men you knew you’d never love. And kept the only man you cared about at a safe distance.”
I stood, recalling something Ryan had said to me yesterday about why he’d never had a serious relationship. He didn’t want to commit to someone he knew he could never love.
And I only dated men I knew I couldn’t love. Like Anthony.
But what’d that mean for us?
My hand went to my stomach as pain twisted into a knot there.
It was too early, and too much had happened to handle any possible epiphanies.
“Well, you’re a grown-ass woman now,” Maria went on. “A strong, capable woman. If I can start all over again as a single mom with hardly any work experience, you can go after what you want, too.” Her gaze moved over my shoulder to the window. “And also, I think I have a better idea for the tickets to the Maddox event tomorrow. One that doesn’t involve Calista.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
NATALIA
“Noah, I’m going to need to call you back.” Ryan lowered the phone from his ear, a worried look in his eyes. “I thought you canceled yoga. You need a ride somewhere else?”
Not waiting for an invitation, I walked inside his house and sidestepped him. “How long will your mom be gone?”
He closed the door and pocketed his cell phone. “She’s playing cards with some friends in another neighborhood. She’ll be gone all day.” He looked at me and frowned. “Why?”
“Okay, good. Because we need to talk.” I reached for his forehead to check the wound, which was covered with a new Band-Aid. “How’s your head? It looks bad under there. Like someone—”
“Hit me with a pipe?” he finished for me, and I nodded. “Just took some Advil an hour ago. I’m fine now. Don’t worry.” Was he still pissed about the comment I left hanging in the air? The one where I said Enzo had taken a life outside of the law?
“You sure you’re okay?” I pressed. Something in my gut told me he was lying. With his history, how could I not worry?
