Page 77 of What are the Risks
If that’s what she wanted, I had no choice but to play along. I’d been the one to make the move, so if she needed to sweep it under the rug to get past it without weirdness, I’d do that for her.
I’d wanted it. She clearly hadn’t. It was time to let it go and move on.
Draining the last of my beer, I pushed back in my chair before crossing the room and heading straight for Gretchen. As I neared, her friends were quick to disperse, giddily snickering like they’d been waiting on me to make a move.
Gretchen slowly peered up at me with a knowing smile. “Ryker Richardson.”
“Gretchen–” I paused for a moment to recall her surname. “–Huntington.”
She gently twirled her straw, motioning in the direction I’d come from. “Who were you texting?”
“Pardon?”
“Before you stalked over. Who got you so worked up?”
“Ruby,” I admitted in defeat.
Gretchen was the only person who knew about mine and Ruby’s kiss – at least the only personI’dtold. Ruby’s friends were another story. I’ll bet she’d already spilled the details to them, laughing at the clueless best friend who’d completely misread the situation.
Gretchen chuckled. “That’s still going on?”
“No.” I stepped closer to Gretchen, ignoring the drunken catcalls from her friends – some likely belonging to the guys as well. “I need to get her out of my head.”
Gretchen’s clawlike nails traced across my abdomen, sending a shiver down my spine. “You know I can help with that.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Not a delivery driver
Ruby
I waited at my gate, my legs propped on top of my suitcase. My flight had been delayed by an hour. Then two. Now three. I was worried it was a sign, like the universe was telling me that visiting Ryker was a mistake.
I’d tried to keep myself distracted during the delays by reading. When I found myself at the end of one page without remembering a single word, I’d loaded the latest Netflix rom-com to drop, hoping mindless entertainment might do the trick. But even still, my thoughts circled back tothe kiss.So in a final and desperate move, I’d jammed in my headphones and prayed Taylor Swift could keep me from spiralling.
The last two weeks had been too busy to dwell on either my breakup with Noah, orthe kisswith Ryker. But now that I had nothing to do but wait, all of the overthinking was catching up with me.
Back home, mine and Noah’s breakup was very much public knowledge, with gossip having spread through our hometown. I’d inadvertently confirmed the rumours by deleting every Instagram post of us too, even the group pictures.
A few people from school had sent me messages, some genuinely checking in while others were just looking for the tea.
Noah’s mum had reached out too, expressing how saddened she was by the way things had turned out. When she mentioned she hoped we sorted through it, I concluded Noah had clearly left out a few key details – mainly the list of girls who’d played starring roles in our breakup.
I hadn’t bothered filling her in, due to the part of me that instinctively protected him. Even though he’d caused this, I doubt things had been easy for him the past few months either. Stirring drama or hurting more people wouldn’t achieve anything.
He still texted occasionally, but I never responded. Finishing an overnight shift or waking up to his drunken voicemails was the worst – when he’d apologise over and over, like a broken record. It was hard listening to the strain in his voice. I could hear his heartache.
Ryker: Any updates?
Ruby: Still waiting.
I briefly removed my headphones as another announcement came over the intercom. The flight had just been delayed by another thirty minutes.
Ruby: It’s not looking good, Wheels. I don’t think I’m going to make it.
These past few weeks I’d gone back and forth – then side to side, then spun in circles and zig-zags – before officially concluding thatthe kisswas a mistake. At least that’s how I was figuring Ryker felt about it.
He hadn’t followed me when I ran, he’d stayed out all night with someone else, he hadn’t come back in the morning to drive me to the airport, and he hadn’t acknowledged it once since – all straight out of the male denial playbook.
