Page 226 of Better When Shared
“I’m going to talk to her,” I announced, turning to knock on the door.
Hui placed a gentle hand on my arm. “Perhaps give her a moment. The surprise had a... bigger impact than I expected.”
Ryker blew out a breath, eyeing the closed door. “Probably wise.”
Chapter 2
Ryker
We were still on the porch twenty minutes later, and Skylar hadn’t opened the door.
Kiaan paced around the driveway, waiting for Hui to let him knock. Hui sat on the little porch swing, seemingly unbothered by the aftermath of her maniacal plan to spring two men on her granddaughter.
That woman was terrifying.
I felt as antsy and anxious as Kiaan looked, and increasingly desperate for something to do.
“Maybe we should take a walk? Pet some horses?”
“Pet horses?” Kiaan said, shuddering.
“They’re cute.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I leaned against the porch rail, then almost fell on my ass as it creaked and heaved under my weight. Frowning, I squatted and looked at the wobbly boards.
“This is a hazard. Is there a toolbox somewhere?”
Hui paused her swinging, studying me for a moment with her eyebrows raised. “I suppose there’s one in the office. Want me to get it?”
“If Kiaan doesn’t want to pet horses, I might as well make myself useful, right?”
As Hui bustled off towards one of the barns, I took out my multi-tool and flipped to the screwdriver, frowning as I got to work. I was self-aware enough to understand that this was a coping mechanism. When my mom got sick, my dad used to come up with hours worth of projects for us just so we wouldn’t have to sit around and worry.
And it worked, kind of. If I stayed moving and did something helpful, there wouldn’t be space for worries or wanting or impossible hope.
Skylar’s porch rail had been wobbly for a while—I could tell from the worn spots where the screws had gradually worked their way out of the weathered wood. So when Hui returned with the toolbox, I got to work, ignoring Kiaan’s judgmental look.
The familiar weight of the drill in my palm anchored me to the moment, stopping my mind from spiraling into guilt and worry.
“You’ve done this before.” Hui’s observation floated across the porch from where she sat, back on the wooden swing.
I nodded, focusing on the next screw. “My dad taught me. We used to build things together.”
“Are you close to him now?”
“No,” I said, not wanting to go into what had happened after Mom passed away and my father had started drowning his sorrows in other ways. I still preferred the frantic handyman projects.
She didn’t press. “Well, at least you’re being useful. Maybe you can get him to help, too.” She tilted her head toward Kiaan, who was stalking back and forth across the yard like a caged tiger.
I bit back a smile. “He doesn’t look like he’s in the right headspace for construction.”
Six years of gaming together, and I’d never seen Kiaan this off-balance. I’d also never realized just how fucking gorgeous he was. He was Indian-American with the bone structure of a male model. Only his curly, chaotic hair and his plush, almost feminine lips broke the stony masculine perfection of his face.
Nothing had confirmed my bisexuality for me quite like meeting Kiaan for the first time. It had shifted and changed my understanding of our group dynamic in ways I really didn’t want to think about.
Crushing on your two best friends was probably the fastest route to devastating heartache and loss.
“This is bullshit,” Kiaan said, turning and narrowing his eyes at my drill. “Seriously? She’s upset, and your solution is home improvement?”
I shrugged, tightening another screw. “Might as well make myself useful.” I was well aware that my calm demeanor was pissing him off—it always did while gaming, too—but I couldn’t resist.
