Page 19 of No Rhyme or Roughing
Dad always said it wasn’t my fault, that it was entirely on him. But I’d known since I was ten that Mom couldn’t look at me without thinking about him and his actions. Because I told.
I saw. I barely processed. I blew up their marriage.
Teddy claimed it was Dad who blew it up. He was the one who spent years cheating on Mom. I just told her the truth after I saw him with one of his mistresses. So, why did I always feel guilty? Why did Mom’s eyes cloud over with depression whenever she looked at me?
Those last eight years of living at home until I could go away to school were hard. Teddy and our sisters were already gone, leaving just me and a mom who couldn’t look at me.
I was still staring at the text when a knock on the door jolted me out of my self-pity haze.
“Come in,” I called, rolling over to sit up.
The door opened slowly, and then Ryder was there. “Hey.”
He gave me a dimpled smile that kicked my heart up a notch. Why did he have to be so beautiful?
Gripping the top of the doorframe, he stretched inthe doorway. His gray polo rose up, revealing a sliver of tanned skin and a trail of dark hair.
I swallowed. “What’s up?”
“So, um… about last night…”
I bit back a grin at his obvious discomfort. “Ryder, I’m going to stop you right there. It wasn’t a big deal. So, what, you’re a sleep groper. We’re both adults. We can forget about it. And everyone gets morning w?—”
He let go of the doorframe and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Is it your mission in life to say the wrong thing?”
“Only to you.” Because I never let any of it slip around others.
A low, deep chuckle rumbled from him. “I was going to politely ignore all of that. I just meant about the videos we watched and your idea.”
“Oh.” My face heated.Right.“Oops.”
He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’ll do it.”
“Wait… Really?” I jumped off the bed and approached him, unable to contain the excitement buzzing through me.
“Yes.”
“Open your eyes and look like you want this. I don’t want you doing it just because of whatever bad news you got.”
He sighed again, meeting my gaze. “It was a wedding invitation.”
“A…” My throat closed as I realized who it must be. “Sullivan.”
He nodded, and I noticed the faint redness lining his eyes. “He tried to tell me the other day. They’re getting married in a month.”
“Holy… a month?” I reached for him. “Ryder, are you okay?”
He was quiet for a moment before shaking his head. “Let’s talk about something else. You dared me to consider this, really give it thought, so I did. I need this to work, Sydney. Mr. Mac has always been like a father to me. This team deserves to stay here. I’ll literally crawl across the ice with my tongue stuck to the surface if it means saving it.”
His abrupt tone shift didn’t surprise me. Nothing did anymore. Instead, I went along with his avoidance of emotion. It was what I was good at, after all. “I don’t know who taught you your dance moves, but that is definitely not one we’ll be using.”
“We?”
“Yes, absolutely. We’re in this together now. I’m an artist who has to mold this ugly lump of clay into something passable.”
One brow lifted. “That’s… an analogy.”
“Tell me your dance moves aren’t ugly, and I’ll retract it.”
