Page 144 of Pucking Wild

I turn to face him, fresh tears in my eyes.

He looks at me, his gaze darting left then right. Then he smiles, just the corner of his mouth lifting, satisfied with what he sees. “There she is. Hey, stranger.”

I smile, swallowing back the emotion thick in my throat. “Tell Rachel I went home?”

He nods, patting my thigh. “You got it.”

Shoving myself up from the picnic table, I hurry after Ryan, not bothering to look back.

51

Istand outside the front door of the bungalow. Ryan’s car sits in the driveway. I thought about what I want to say to him the whole drive home, how I want to apologize, what pieces of me I want to offer to him. He needs my vulnerability. He deserves it. I can’t keep holding back from him if I want to see where this could go.

Vulnerability. Great, my favorite thing.

I could stand out here all night, freezing my butt off, or I could go inside and face the freaking music.

Big girl panties, Tess.

Taking a deep breath, I slip my key into the lock and turn it, letting the door creak softly open. The living room lamps are on, letting off a warm glow. The TV is on too. I can hear the telltale sounds of Mario Kart. Hurt Ryan came home to play video games, taking comfort in the familiar. Is his heart aching like mine?

I step inside the door, shutting it softly, and lean against it.

You made it inside the house.

Now I just need to walk down the hall.

“She’s not here,” he calls after a minute.

I grip tighter to my keys. “What?”

“Cami,” he calls. “She’s not here. You don’t have to hide by the door, Tess. It’s just me.”

I will my body to move, walking down the little hallway. I pause at the end, peering around.

Ryan sits alone on the middle of the couch, game controller in hand. He glances over at me, his hurt expression tearing me apart. The Mario Kart theme music is the soundtrack for the heavy silence hanging between us. I’m convinced those repetitive, high-pitched jingles will play over the sound system when I eventually arrive in hell.

Feeling too anxious to just start blurting out all my thoughts and feelings, I cross over into the kitchen, dropping my purse and backpack down on the counter. And because I’m a mess who always has to do something with her hands, I jerk open the fridge and snatch up a bottle of water.

Letting the door shut, I slowly turn. “Ryan, I—”

“We can’t keep doing this,” he says, tossing the game controller down. The motion freezes the screen, and the music—thank fucking God.

“Doing what?”

He slings an arm over the back of the couch, looking intently at me. “You can’t keep pushing me away. I know you’ve been hurt before, but any man who would cheat on you is a fucking idiot. I’m not that man, Tess. So, stop testing me.”

“Wait—this isn’t about Troy being a cheater,” I say, setting the bottle of water down. “Is that really what you think?”

“Why else would you be trying to shove me at Cami to see if I stick? You thought the same thing about Drunk Cleopatra, remember? Tess, I’m not that guy.”

God, how did this all get so inside-out?

“I know Troy’s cheating wasn’t about me, Ryan. He cheated because he was weak and lonely and desperate for external validation. He’s always needed other people to build him up and make him feel like the man. And I know you’re not a cheater. I know you’re not Troy.”

He launches off the couch. “Then what is this about? If I’m not in your arms, and if we’re not fucking, then you shut me out and shut me down. It’s like we don’t exist outside of these four walls,” he says, gesturing around the room.

“I swear, I’m not trying to push you away,” I say. “I’m just…succeeding.”

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