Page 11 of No Rhyme or Roughing
I doubted I’d ever stop being a boy to him.
He stood to greet me and yanked me into a rough hug. “I swear, kid, the older you get, the more you look like him. For a moment, I thought Drake was back in my doorway.”
Talk of my father always left me uncomfortable. I’d always wanted to know more, but some of what I’dlearned wasn’t flattering—like how he cheated on my mom.
I pulled away. “You asked me to come up, sir.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” He settled back into the chair, and I took the one across from him. An array of drinks sat on the table before us. “Want something?”
“Water?”
He grabbed a plastic bottle and launched it at me, laughing when I fumbled to catch it.
I twisted off the cap and took a long drink, watching as his smile faded. I knew the man well. His bravado was always an act when something was wrong, something he didn’t want to say.
“What is it, old man?” I dropped the pretense of player and owner, needing normalcy.
He sighed, scrubbing a hand across his face. “We’re in trouble, Ryder. My partners want to sell the team.”
CHAPTER FIVE
SYDNEY
It had been a long time since I didn’t have somewhere to be on a Monday morning. I’d admit it—I was a workaholic. I loved dance, even if it was just telling others what moves to make. Me? I saved my dancing for the privacy of my own home.
Or, as it were, my brother’s home.
The guys had gone out for their morning skate. It was a game day, and I knew my brother well enough to predict their routine—morning with the team, afternoon nap, and then back to the arena.
I tried to block all thoughts of hockey from my mind. It had taken over our lives when I was young. First with Stas going all the way to the Olympics—not that she let us go support her—and then with Teddy turning it into a minor league career in our hometown and Kristen playing every chance she’d gotten. I was the odd one out, choosing a sport as far away from the ice as I could get.
Dance. A thin girl’s sport. One I wasn’t built for with my broad hips and thick thighs. Yet, it didn’t dim my love for it. I’d been an awkward, pudgy child, but when I danced, I felt graceful, like I was beautiful.
My favorite song of Jameson’s pumped from the speaker, a heavy beat mixed with his breathy voice—a voice I’d loved hearing in my ear. I wasn’t sure when I started moving, but I found myself going through the steps I’d taught him, the same ones he’d perform on stage over the coming months. This wasn’t a graceful dance, but it was powerful.
One song morphed into the next, and my dance shifted with it. Sweat dripped into my eyes, and I wiped it away as I made it nearly through his entire second album—my favorite. It was his post-breakup work, and instead of songs mentioning his ex, they spoke of freedom, of choosing to focus on yourself, of making yourself happy.
There was a reason I hadn’t been able to stay out of his bed.
The final move was a turn, and when I faced the doorway to my room, I froze. Ryder leaned against the frame, one arm crossed over the other and a foot kicked back against the solid wood. He wore sweats low on his hips and no shirt, looking mussed, like he’d just woken up.
“Don’t you ever wear a shirt?” It burst out of me in my embarrassment.
His nose scrunched. “What?”
I realized he couldn’t hear me over the music, so I pointed to his chest. “Shirt. You.”
He looked down. “What about me?”
With a roll of my eyes, I turned to end the music. The silence that followed thickened the air. When I faced Ryder again, I pulled my tank top down, making sure it covered the skin above my shorts. “What are you doing here?”
A slow smile spread across his lips. “Would you believe me if I said Teddy asked me to babysit you?”
Laughter burst out of me, but then it stopped suddenly as I remembered who I had to be.You’re too much, Sydney. Be less you.I lowered my voice and looked away. “You? Teddy would never trust you with his precious baby sister.”
Being that I wasn’t a baby any longer, that had a different meaning now. What would Teddy do if I kissed his best friend right here and now? If I yanked him into this room and peeled those pants from his hips? God, what was wrong with me? Even in my head, I sounded like another person when faced with Ryder Cassidy.
Ryder leaned his head against the doorframe, still smiling at me. “I think this is the first time you’ve said more than a few words to me since you got here.”
