I stick the letter inside my purse, then flip off the light, lock up, and leave by the front door.
The whole way home I think about Ryker this afternoon. Not Ryker last weekend. But the way he was polite and mature today. And how that’s kinda nice. And maybe also how I might need someone like that—someone like my father—in my autonomous adult life. Someone to remind me of who I am.
When I get home I go upstairs to find Felix lounging in the middle of the floor. Flicking his tail up and down all impatient and irritated. He likes me, but he misses April and I think he’s lonely.
I think I’m lonely too. Being on my own isn’t the fun I thought it would be. I like privacy and I certainly have that here. But I do miss living with other people and I’m actually glad my dad has been picking me up from class. I’m also starting to wonder if I should stay here for the next few weeks or just go home.
I flop on the couch and switch the TV on, just surfing channels to waste time until I’m tired enough to sleep. Wishing I had handled things with Ryker differently on Monday. Wishing he hadn’t given up on me so easily.
Suddenly I’m too tired to bother with TV. I just want to sleep. I click it off and hear footsteps coming up the stairs outside the door.
Holy shit. Is it Ryker?
My heart starts to beat fast. Hope flooding my body.
Then a knock.
“Who is it?” I ask. Because if it’s not him—
“It’s Ryker North, Aria. I just… need a minute.”
Just a minute? Why just a minute? What could this be about?
“Can you open the door, please? I promise, I won’t take long.”
I get up, walk over, and open the door. He’s standing on the other side, still sweaty from drumming—but unfortunately for me, he has a shirt on—with disheveled hair and both hands pressed against my doorframe so he’s leaning forward a little bit.
“Umm… hello.”
He holds up a finger. “I just need to say two things, OK?”
“OK.”
“First—I know I said this already, but I need to say it again. I’m sorry.”
“Which part, exactly, are you sorry for?” Because I’m confused. Did he not want to be with me at all? Does he regret having sex with me? Because that’s definitely not what I want to hear.
“I didn’t treat you right.”
“Oh,” I say.
“I mean…” He lifts his eyebrows up. “I think I did treat you right on your birthday. I think I did everything right, actually. Maybe not getting all alpha on you while your parents were waiting in the car when you were in the co-op. But after. I think I did… I think…” He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “I really enjoyed that. Being with you and being considerate and careful for your first time. I hope you remember that night forever and it’s not something you regret.”
I open my mouth to say, I certainly won’t. But he holds up a finger.
“One more thing, then that’s it.”
“OK.”
“Would you like to go out on a date with me this weekend?”
“A… date?”
“Yes. A real date. I pick you up on Friday night, take you somewhere nice. Bring you home. That kind of thing.”
“A date.”
“Yes.”
I start nodding my head. “OK. Yes. I’d like to go on a date with you.”
“Great,” he says. “That’s it. It was very nice meeting you today. The real you, I mean. And your father seems as easy to like as you are. So… Yeah. That’s it. I’ll pick you up at seven on Friday.”
Then he turns and walks away.
“Ryker?” I say.
“Hmm?” He looks back at me over his shoulder.
“You don’t want to come in?”
He shakes his head. “No. We’re going to do this right. I’ll see you Friday.”
Then he disappears down the stairs and I close my door, leaning my back against it as I take all that in.
A real date. As in… we might be starting something real. We might be starting a relationship.
I think I swoon a little.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN – RYKER
All week I’ve been asking myself, Am I doing the right thing? Should I just back off and leave her alone? Is this wrong?
And all week I’ve come up with answers on both sides. Is taking her out on a new first date the right thing? Probably not. It’s a professional risk at this point. But I ask myself another question. If we weren’t putting this deal together with her father, would I feel the same way? Yes and no. Because yes, I still want to ask her out. And no, I wouldn’t be feeling this guilt over it.
If Aria were just some random eighteen-year-old girl I met in the co-op I’d still have that initial she’s-too-young-for-me response. But after knowing her a week it would’ve faded. I feel that to be true.