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I finally settled on, “I don’t know, Mum. In some ways, yes. But not in others.” I shrugged even though she couldn’t see me. “But it’s one of those things. I’ve got lots of things to keep me busy.” I laughed, and it sounded forced, even to my ears. “After all, when would I get time to change your lightbulbs if I had a girl breathing down my neck, wanting babies?”
Mum was quiet for a long time, so much so that I checked to see if the line was still connected. “Ryder Beckett, you listen to me,” she growled. “I am a grown woman. I don’t need you to be alone and unhappy to be available to change a lightbulb or do any other chores around the house for me. I’m perfectly capable of doing them myself.” There was a pop and a glugging sound—Mum pouring herself a glass of wine. “I’m not an obligation to you. I’m not a responsibility—”
“I know that, Mum—”
“Well, stop acting like you need to be my hero.” Her voice softened when she added, “You already are.” She paused so her comment could sink in, and I closed my eyes, letting the sentiment wrap around me. “Ask Zali out, Ryder. Don’t let more time pass without knowing whether she feels the same way as you do.”
“How do you…,” I groaned. I’d opened my fucking mouth and had just given myself away. Instead of denying it, I’d basically admitted my feelings to her, and Mum was relentless. She wouldn’t accept the excuse that I should stay the hell away without dropping all the juicy details on her lap, and there was no way I could do that.
“Be the brave man I know you are, Ry. Being scared is okay—it means it’s important to you.”
“Mum, I can’t,” I mumbled, knowing it was futile to try to explain.
“No, Ryder, you can.” She paused, and I heard her breath hitch, her voice wobbling when she spoke again. “You dad was a bit of a dick when he asked me out.”
I blinked and barked out a laugh. She’d never told me how Dad had asked her out. I knew that they got together just after Mum had finished school, but I didn’t know the full story, and clearly this one was half decent.
“Tom and Chris were egging him on, and Kev was ready to kill him. He was three sheets to the wind and slurring his words. But he sidled up to me in front of all my friends, all suave and full of himself, and he asked me to go bowling with him.” She chuckled, her laugh soft and a little melancholy.
“I told him yes after he’d pestered me for an hour, and we agreed to meet. But he was drunk enough that he didn’t remember our conversation and stood me up. I called Kev to tell him his friend was a dick, and by the time I got home, he was waiting on our doorstep with a bunch of service station flowers and an apology.”
I could hear the smile in her voice, and it loosened the vice-like grip that had closed around my heart.
“We only got a few years together, but they were worth every bit of heartbreak when he died. Don’t hold back, Ry. If she’s the one you want, ask her out.” Then after a moment, she tacked on, “While you’re sober.”
I laughed again and nodded. Yeah, I wanted that. I wanted what they’d had. Maybe I could make it work. Maybe if I took up Tristan on his offer, I could get part of Zali and keep enough distance with the guys that I got the best of both worlds. I could have her and keep the other parts of me buried like I’d always planned. It was no different to dating any other woman—except that she was the one I wanted.
I bit my lip and hissed, the sting and fresh tang of blood oozing into my mouth reminding me that I’d worried my lip until I’d made it bleed. Could I do it? Could I keep the walls in place and get some of what I wanted?
There’s only one way to find out.
Six
Zali
Aknock on my office door had me turning my head and smiling at my interruption—until I got a good look at him. His lip was split and swollen as if he’d copped a fist to the face.
“Hey,” Ry greeted me as he hovered in the doorway. “Can we talk?”
“Always.” My heart lodged in my throat, my gut twisting. What had happened? I hadn’t heard any fighting. The yacht had been as quiet as a tomb for hours.
He stepped inside, shut the door softly, and sat down on the couch. I joined him there and reached up to touch his cheek, his stubble soft against my fingers. “What happened?”
“Tristan came to see me before. We had words.” He didn’t seem angry, not even a little pissed. If anything he seemed kind of anxious. What the hell had happened?
I was trying not to jump to conclusions and overreact, but the butterflies in my belly were swooping, and not in a good way. It was as if I was in one of those mining carts on rail tracks you see in the movies, ready to be thrown out on a particularly gnarly turn.
Instinct told me to yell out for Tristan and demand that they sort their shit out like adults, not rowdy teenagers. But I held off. They were both stubborn shits. What if they wouldn’t work it out? I needed both Tristan and Ry. I had no idea how to make things work between us if they didn’t get along. How would Tristan ever feel comfortable spending time on the yacht if he and Ry clashed? I couldn’t ask Ry to leave—this was his home as much as it was mine. But that meant me visiting them in their apartments—and yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.
Maybe they both needed a little attitude readjustment. A spanking administered by the other. I bit back my smile—inappropriate as it was—and asked, “What kind of words?”
“He, um, told me to man up.”
I snapped my head up, my eyes wide. What in the actual fuck? Why the hell would Tristan say that? What was it even in relation to? And seriously, why would Ry react in a way that resulted in Tristan hitting him? What were they, thirteen?
Ry huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “This is me manning up.”
I was lost, and my confusion must have been etched onto my face if Ry’s eyeroll was anything to go by. Or maybe he thought the whole concept was ridiculous. I had no idea.
