Page 51 of Bite Your Tongue

Once he walks in, I head toward the window like a little kid.

“Look. Can you even believe it? We can see the ball dropping from here.” I pause, realizing that probably sounds like I haveplans for us to stay in tonight. “Not like we’ll be in here, but you know what I mean.”

“Stop trying to get me naked, would you? I have my ’stache and my glasses, and I’m ready to party.” He tsks me before walking up to the window. “Shit, this is actually closer than I thought.”

“I know, right? I sent Gemma a picture, and she couldn’t believe it.”

A sad smile tugs at my lips. Despite being happy to be here, I miss Gem. When we were kids, my mom would always get us a bottle of sparkling cider and a ton of snacks. We’d do each other’s makeup and nails and watch movies. Even when we were in high school and got invited to parties, we’d just stay in. That was our tradition.

I’m glad things are working out for her and Smith, but I’d give anything for things to go back to how they used to be before she left for California. Unfortunately, I couldn’t be the one to pull her out of the darkness she was in; she needed to do it herself with my brother by her side.

“Whatcha thinking about?” he says, taking a few steps toward the bed and sitting down on the edge of it. “And before you say nothing, just know I’m not buying it.”

“Just thinking about Gemma,” I whisper, taking a seat beside him. “It’s funny because if she were here with me, we’d joke that this was close enough for us to come up here if we got tired of peopling. Which we undoubtedly would, especially her.” I swing my feet softly at the foot of the bed. “We’d probably scroll on our phones, order in junk food, and rot in bed until it was time to watch the ball drop.”

“And then you’d go back down to the crowd?” he asks curiously.

“Probably not.” I bark out a laugh. “We’d likely watch it from the window and then cheers together before climbing back into bed.”

I don’t justthinkthat’s what we’d do; I know we would. We’re basic. And unlike how I might like to be perceived—as someone who is over the top and demands attention—when it comes to Gemma and me, things never need to be complicated or extravagant. If we have each other, we’re going to have a good time.

“She’s your best friend,” he says gently. “And you miss her.”

“No, she’s my soulmate,” I say truthfully. “And, yeah, I do.”

For once, I’m talking about something that’s deeper than a puddle, and yet I’m not squirming because I’m uncomfortable. It’s not like that when I’m with Ryder, and the silence between us isn’t awkward, even though I sense he’s thinking of how to respond.

“So, let me get this straight … you’d rather not be down there, in the crowd. Yet, on your bucket list, you wrote you wanted to watch the ball drop in Times Square.” He’s clearly as amused as he is puzzled. “You’re baffling as hell, Saylor Sawyer—you know that?”

“I’m not interesting enough to be baffling,” I say lightheartedly yet truthfully. “But yes. Watching the celebration on TV all these years? It always looks so fun. Now that I’m here …”

“It looks overwhelming?” he guesses, and I nod once.

“A little, yes. But have no fear. I’m going to get my jacket and my hat and mittens on, and I’ll be ready to go. It’ll be fun.” I offer him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry if it sounded like I was complaining. I swear, I really do want to be here. And I really, really appreciate you doing this for me.” I look toward the window. “This is a dream of mine—to be here on this night. And because of you, I get to be.”

I feel bad that I said all of that, and now he probably thinks he wasted his time and money to get me here when that’s the last thing I want him to feel like. I do want to be here, and I know this will be a New Year’s Eve I’ll always remember.

And not likely just because of the location either.

“Well, what if we didn’t go down there?” he throws at me, as if reading my mind. “What if we stayed inside and ordered room service?”

I look back at him because, though I don’t hear any annoyance in his tone, I want to see the look on his face for myself. Instead of irritation, he’s offering me the sweetest grin.

“Oh, and you can scroll away,” he adds lightheartedly. “Can’t forget scrolling on socials.”

“Ryder, that’s … so nice of you to offer, but you came all this way.” I wave my hand around. “And you got us this amazing room so that we could be close to the ball drop.”

“And we will be.” He jerks his chin toward outside, his grin broadening. “We can watch it from the window. Hell, pretty sure we could see it from the bed.”

The wordbedhas me sucking in a breath, even though he probably didn’t even mean anything sexual by it. The truth is, I don’t know what to expect from this night. I don’t know what he’s hoping for either.

“Really? You’re sure?” I whisper, leaning in a little closer. “Like, really, really sure?”

I am the girl who likes to go out and have a good time, but sometimes, even the most outgoing people don’t want to be around a crowd. Tonight, I just want to enjoy this night from our quiet, incredible room. I just can’t believe Ryder is insisting we do just that after traveling this way, but I ignore the squeezing sensation in my chest because we’re only friends.

“Fuck yeah. I’ll be your Gemma tonight. Only, you know … at some point, I’d like to take my clothes off.” His grin remains as he points at his mustache. “Does this mean I can lose this thing?”

I cringe, nodding my head. “Yeah, if you want any chance of me getting me naked, lose the ’stache and the glasses.” I shrug. “Though I will say, it is giving me Riley Green vibes, and you know how I feel about that man.” I fan myself. “So, maybe you should keep it on and start singing country songs and then ask me to sit on your face.”

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