Page 74 of What are the Risks
In good news, I hadn’t cried over mine and Noah’s breakup today. The downside was that I couldn’t stop thinking about Ryker. My head was already pounding, and my shift hadn’t even started yet.
Returning downstairs, my phone lit up, just as I reached for the front door.
Ryker: Can you FT?
Ruby: Nope. I’m about to leave for the hospital.
Ryker: Tomorrow?
Ruby: I’m on a week of nights now. I’ll be sleeping when you’re awake.
Grabbing my keys and tucking my phone into my back pocket, I followed Bri outside, volunteering to drive so I wouldn’t fixate on waiting for Ryker’s reply.
Needing a distraction, I put on Taylor’s Swift ten-minute version ofAll Too Well. If you timed the traffic lights right, it was just enough distance for two full plays between our place and the hospital.
Part of me itched to unload on Bri and get her take. But until I knew what it had meant to Ryker – if it had even meant anything – I didn’t want to add her theories to the mix. I’d only confuse myself more.
Just as the song was ending for a second time, I pulled into a park – perfect timing, Taylor.
The instant I cut the ignition, I caved and checked my phone.
Ryker: I’m sorry I wasn’t back before you left. I felt like an ass walking into my room this morning and realising you’d already gone.
I’d purposely left my side of the bed unmade so it was clearI’dbeen there andhehadn’t. I never said I wasn’t petty.
“Ruby?” Bri prompted, her body half hanging out of the car, waiting for me.
“Sorry,” I apologised, grabbing my bag and stepping out.
Just as we walked through the double doors, my phone went off again.
Ryker: Please don’t hate me, Rubz.
Ruby: I could never hate you, Wheels. Gotta go.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I can help with that
Ryker
Clutching a beer in my hand, I stared up at the screen, absentmindedly watching a replay of last night’s Seahawks game. We were at Lastlings, the sports bar closest to campus, celebrating Pat’s birthday.
Knowing it would likely get out of hand, the guys had voted and we’d vetoed him from throwing a party at our house. Better the bar than my living room.
He was currently dancing on top of the pool table, one arm draped over Lindsay and the other around another cheerleader, belting out American Pie at the top of his lungs. He barely knew any of the lyrics and kept jumping into the chorus way too soon. It was actually hilarious.
My phone was blowing up with notifications since half of the team were filming it and sending it to the group Snapchat.
“What are we doing for your birthday next weekend?” Tori asked from where she sat beside me, nestled in my cousin’s lap.
There was a spare stool at our table, but that was irrelevant to them since they always had to be touching, or kissing... or doing other things.
“Nothing.”
Tori pouted. “We need to do something. You only turn twenty-two once.”
She’d said the same when I turned twenty-one, and twenty, and nineteen. Come to think of it, each year she’d somehow coerced me into hosting a party. Probably so she had an excuse to grind against my cousin all night.
