We got dressed and headed down to the café in the spa for brunch.
“All this crap is healthy,” Sloane said, glaring at the menu as if it had offended her personally.
“I think it’s because you’re not supposed to get a massage and steam all the impurities out of your pores and then eat a heart attack on a bun, covered with cheese, Sloane. Plus, this is fancy food. You like fancy food.” I scanned the menu and I had to admit, it was pretty . . . healthy. And not the good kind of healthy. We were talking wheat grass and tofu omelets. I finally found some oatmeal that had fruit and nuts in it, and a cup of herbal tea. Sloane bitched and moaned and finally got the same thing.
“I like fancy that food isn’t made for rabbits,” she whispered so we wouldn’t incur the wrath of the other health nuts around us.
“Well you have no one to blame but yourself, because you made the appointment.” We’d come here before, but we’d never eaten, and we were quickly realizing why.
The oatmeal came and it was the tiniest bowl ever and had about three pieces of fruit and two sad walnuts in it. Sloane stared at hers.
“I’ll take you out for burgers,” I said.
“I’m going to need one.” We ate our sad oatmeal and finished our tea and then walked three blocks and stuffed our faces with double decker burgers.
“This is where it’s at,” Sloane said, ketchup dripping down her chin. I used my napkin to wipe her face.
“You got a little something.” We were both laughing and shoving our burgers in our faces when a male voice interrupted us.
“I love seeing a woman who knows how to enjoy a good burger.” The voice was familiar enough to know who it was before I glanced over my shoulder, and the look on Sloane’s face also gave me confirmation. But I looked anyway.
“Hello, Ryder.”
Twelve
“Rory. Nice to see you again.” The last time I’d seen him, he’d been helping me move, and I hadn’t seen him since. I used to wonder if I’d ever bump into him around Boston, but it was a big city and it hadn’t happened. Until now.
His shirt was thin and ripped, and didn’t leave much to the imagination. His bold, black tattoos slashed across the bulging muscles of his arms, and he’d cut his hair shorter, so it was spiked in the front. And since you’re never complete without a smile, he had one of those too. Cocky. It reminded me of when I first met Lucah, but it also had a twist of something darker in it. That darker part scared me. That was the part I didn’t want around my best friend.
Said best friend was trying to put down her burger and wipe her mouth at the same time, and was failing at it. I was going to hear about this later, that was for sure.
“Hello, Ryder. How have you been?” I called on the spirit of my mother and all she had taught me, and all of those times I’d had to smile and make small talk with people I didn’t particularly like. Not that I didn’t like Ryder. I just didn’t like some of the things he did. And I didn’t like that darkness.
“Wouldn’t you like to know? If I told you, you’d just carry it back to my big brother and I’d rather leave him in suspense.” Upon closer inspection, his eyes were a little glassy. He was definitely on something. I just didn’t know what. I kicked Sloane under the table, but she seemed mesmerized by Ryder. That was probably the look I had on my face when I saw Lucah standing in front of me the first time. She kicked me back under the table. Hard.
“Well, I can see you ladies are busy, so I’m going to . . . go.” It seemed to take him a lot of time to find the last word. “Bye, Rory. Hello, Sloane.” He made eye contact with her and then he strolled out of the restaurant.
Sloane let out a huge breath of air that she had probably been holding the entire time he was there.
“Oh, God. I think I just came.” Was she fucking serious? “What? He lights my fire. Blows my skirt up. Pushes my buttons. However you want to say it. That boy makes me fucking hot.” She fanned herself and stared out the front of the restaurant, looking for him.
“Why did he say hello when he was leaving?” That caused her to giggle in a way she only giggled when she REALLY liked a boy. Crap. I’d known she was attracted to him, but I thought it was just sexual. But the giggle meant something else entirely.
“Because he said he hates goodbyes. So he never says them.” He’d said bye to me, but not to her. Jesus Christ. She gazed wistfully after Ryder as if he had ridden off on a white horse.
“I don’t want to kill your buzz, but did you not notice that he was clearly on something?” I wanted to wave my hand in front of her face.
“I’m not fucking blind, Rory. Stop being so self-righteous,” she snapped, the dreamy look on her face gone.
“I’m not trying to be self-righteous. Jesus. Calm down.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just sick of you telling me what to do, but doing whatever the hell you want.” What? We’d gone from eating burgers one minute to fighting the next, and all because of a stupid boy and his stupid tattoos and his stupid arms. Yes, it was juvenile to think of him that way, but I couldn’t think maturely about a guy who had waltzed into my life and caused a rift with Sloane and then bailed.
“I don’t want to fight. Please can we not fight?” She looked down at her burger.
“Okay. But I want you to admit that you do act self-righteous sometimes.”
I nodded. “I can do that. I act self-righteous sometimes. And I’ll try to stop and do better.” She looked up at me and I waited.