Page 12 of What are the Risks
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By the time halftime rolled around and dinner was ready, even more relatives had arrived. Brady’s parents were here, but he was spending the holiday with Tori and her family instead.
Tori’s family lived on the opposite side of the country to ours. Her and Brady were forever going back and forth, trying to spend whatever time they got away from college evenly between her parents and his since they couldn’t be apart from each other for even one night.
Judging by how crazy it was in here, skipping the Richardson Thanksgiving was definitely the right move this year. People were packed into every corner of the house, eating wherever they could squeeze in. The twins had coerced Ruby into sitting at their kiddie table, though funnily enough, Ruby didn’t even appear all that big in the child-sized chair.
As I passed with my plate, she caught my eye and gestured to the empty fourth seat.
“I’m way too big, Rubz. I’d never get up from there.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could call me out, one of the twins stole her attention back by telling her all about the cubby their daddy was building.
Savannah’s husband was a police officer and seemed to always get stuck working the holidays. Though really, I think he actually requested to work them. He came from a small family and found ours overwhelming. Hell, I did and I’d lived here for the first eighteen years of my life.
After dinner and the annual game of charades, I retreated to my room for some time out. No matter where I went or sat today, all anybody wanted to speak to me about was the Draft.
I appreciated that my family were so invested, but in all honesty, I would happily go the rest of the day without it being brought up. It was like this big cloud hanging over me – exciting, sure – but given I couldn’t alter the outcome, I didn’t want to obsess about it and overanalyse a decision I didn’t get to make. Teams picked players. Players didn’t pick teams.
Before I could even take a breath, there was a light rap on my door.
“Yeah?” I called out, fighting to keep any trace of irritation from my tone.
“It’s just me,” Ruby called back.
“Rubz? Come in. It’s unlocked.”
After nudging open the door, she uncertainly lingered, leaning against the frame. Pushing up the sleeves of her orange knit, she smoothed a hand down her white winter skirt before crossing her black boots at the ankles.
“Our mums just opened their third bottle of shiraz. I give it another fifteen minutes before everyone clears out to avoid their drunken antics.”
I snickered. “Sounds about right. Why don’t you hide up here with me?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Am I allowed to?”
“Of course. I’d never leave you behind.”
After closing the door, she walked straight to my bed and got comfortable, even resting her head on the same pillow as me.
Stealing the balled-up sock I had in my hand, she aimed for the ceiling fan above us. This had been a habit of ours for as long as I could remember – all we needed was a sock and a ceiling fan to waste hours of time, seeing who could land the sock on a blade first.
Every now and then I’d forget Ruby had been over and turn on my fan, only for countless socks to shoot across the room.
“Are you sure about that?” she challenged. “Because I feel like you’ve been dodging me all day.”
I tensed. “I haven’t been–”
“Drop it, Wheels. This is the first year you haven’t picked me as your charades partner. What’s up?”
She overshot her throw, the sock heading for the foot of the bed. Before it flew over the edge, I extended my leg, kicking it back towards us.
“It’s nothing, Rubz,” I muttered, catching it like a Hail Mary in the end zone.
Ruby partially sat up, resting on one elbow to glare down at me. “Don’t make me beat the truth out of you, Ryker.”
Ouch. She’dRyker-edme. That generally meant business.
“I’d love to see you try, Rubz.”
