Page 225 of Better When Shared
“What the fuck just happened?” I asked no one in particular.
Hui sighed, shaking her head. “Ai ya. That girl. So much like her mother, running from feelings.”
The people in the pasture looked as confused as I felt. The man-bun guy called out, “Hui? What’s going on? Who are these guys?”
“Stop stressing, Makai. They’re friends of Skylar’s,” Hui called back. “From her computer game. I invited them to surprise her.”
A slow grin spread across Makai’s face, and he burst out laughing. “Holy shit. This is good.” He turned to the woman next to him. “Should we get popcorn and watch the drama unfold?”
The woman rolled her eyes and tugged him away, and the other guy followed him, leaving us standing there, confused.
“You won’t win her heart by just standing there like idiots,” Hui said, gesturing towards the cabin. “Chase after her!”
I stared at Hui, irritation bubbling up. “We’re both here to win her heart?”
“Hui,” Ryker said, voice calm. “Didn’t Skylar know we were coming?”
“Not in so many words.”
“Hui!” I protested. “How could you—”
“Oh, stop freaking out,” Hui said. “What’s a little white lie in the name of love?” With that, she bustled off, leaving us to chase her.
I studied Ryker as we walked. He was taller and broader than I was, his firefighter physique evident in the way his t-shirt stretched across his chest. His hair was messier than in his photos, like he’d been running his hands through it. It looked soft. Touchable.
“Did you know I was coming?” I demanded.
He shook his head. “Had no idea. Hui messaged me last week and said Sky was going through a rough patch and could use a friendly face. What did she tell you?”
I turned to Hui, who was watching us with the same enigmatic smile. “That Skylar was ready to take things to the next level, and she wanted to help me book the right flight.”
Ryker snorted, laughing. “You believed Skylar communicated through her grandmother for a date?”
I felt my cheeks go hot, realizing that my hopeful optimism had clouded my judgement. Why had I believed Hui’s wacky story about Skylar not understanding the plane schedules?
“Fuck,” I whispered, and Ryker chuckled. “Hui. Why would you lie to us?”
She shrugged, unrepentant. “Young people today, always hiding behind screens. Typing little hearts instead of speaking real feelings. My granddaughter needs to face what is in front of her.” She gestured between Ryker and me. “Both of you.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” I asked, my voice sharper than intended. “You want her to have two boyfriends.”
Hui’s smile widened. “Perhaps. Two boyfriends are better than none. Or maybe there is a contest to be had. May the best man win my granddaughter’s heart!”
I glanced toward the tiny cabin where Skylar had disappeared, then back at Ryker. His eyes were on the cabin too, his expression soft with what looked like genuine concern.
How was I supposed to compete with this guy? He saved lives for a living. Pulled children from burning buildings. Posed with kittens for charity. Meanwhile, I wrote code and made money. Lots of money, sure, but I’d seen enough of Skylar’s lifestyle to know she wasn’t impressed by wealth. Her gaming setup wastop-of-the-line, but everything else in the background of her video calls was modest, practical, chosen for function over form.
Against a literal hero, what did I have to offer?
“If this is a contest, you don’t stand a chance,” I said, the words coming out harsher than I’d intended. “You’re so... predictable. Boring. The good guy, who always follows the rules. Skylar needs someone who challenges her.”
I expected anger, defensiveness. Instead, Ryker just looked at me with those steady eyes, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Is that what you think of me?” he asked. “Interesting.”
Something in his tone made my stomach flip. There was a heat there, an edge that didn’t match my image of RykeRanger, the by-the-book paladin from our gaming adventures. For a flash of a second, I remembered the way his eyes had traveled over my body at the seaplane dock, the muttered comment that I still wasn’t sure I’d heard correctly.
His silence was maddening, a mirror reflecting my own insecurities back at me. I couldn’t read him. I couldn’t predict what he’d do or dismiss him as easily as I wanted to.
