“I guess that won’t be a problem now.” Roxy pulls her sweater over her fingers and shudders at the idea.
Roxy and I let the silence bleed in and as we gaze morbidly at one another. We both know Ryder made some veiled threats about cutting his family out of his life if we ever got back together. He made them last year and hinted at it again this morning.
“What’s going on?” Baya waves her hand over our faces like she’s trying to pull us out of a trance.
“Nothing’s going on.” I let out a sigh, and a plume of fog expires from me. “I’m not trying to destroy your family, Roxy. I promise you. That’s exactly why I stepped out of the picture last year. Anyway”—I shrug into Baya—“it’s really complicated.”
“I don’t get it.” Baya darts her lime green eyes from me to Roxy. “How’s it going to destroy your family if your mother is the one who keeps saying negative things? I mean, throwing girls at your brother while he’s with Laney? That’s pretty low.”
Roxy sucks in a slow breath while blinking back tears. “Ryder swore to me that if Laney ever took him back, he’d step away from the family. He meant my mother. He gets along fine with my dad and me. He said he’d cut out all family functions, anything that involved my mom.” She runs her fingers through her magenta highlights before settling her eyes over mine. “I just want you and Ryder to be happy. You both deserve that. And nobody on this planet deserves to be treated the way my mother treated you. To say she can be judgmental is an understatement. In her own twisted way, she’s just trying to protect my brother.”
Baya reaches over and picks up my hand. “Laney, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what it would be like if Bryson’s mom said those things about me. But maybe you can sit down and talk to her? Maybe there’s a way to work all this out. I’d hate to see you restart your relationship with him feeling like he needs to step out of his family.”
“Have a civilized conversation with Rue Capwell?” I look to Roxy. “Is that even possible?”
“Anything’s possible.” Her eyes widen, and she looks decidedly like her brother. “I’ll be there to mediate if you like.”
“I’ll gladly come and hold your hand,” Baya offers.
I take a breath and mull it over. “Okay, but we should do it soon. I’d hate for Ryder to blow a hole in their relationship if it’s not necessary.”
“I’m sure it’ll go well.” Baya ventures on with her disillusioned innocence. “It’s a necessary evil. Like pulling off a band aid.”
Something tells me it will very much be necessary, but deep down I’m hoping it’s not. I’d like nothing more than to start off on the right foot with Ryder, and cutting his mother out of his life doesn’t exactly reek Norman Rockwell—more like Norman Bates and we all know how that turned out.
Talking to Ryder’s mother is going to be awkward. This won’t be anything like ripping off a band aid—quite the opposite. This will be like taking a scalpel and reopening the wound.
It’s going to hurt like hell.
I hope Ryder and I don’t bleed out this time.
Ryder
Capwell Industries runs like a well-oiled machine, partly due to the fact my father is down on every dirty detail. He’s completely hands-on when it comes to running his company and its many divisions, so much so that there’s a high staff turnover from all the micromanagement taking place. And, in the same vein, my mother runs her life in a similar manner. She spends her days organizing charity functions for the local hospitals and universities, thus her appearance at the auction the other night. It’s strange because she insisted I go. I had no idea Laney would be performing—that she would be auctioned off for the night no less. And I’m sure my mother was equally as surprised. I doubt she’d be so eager to get me “out of the house” if she knew it might land Laney in my bed for the night.
Hot damn that girl can light the sheets on fire. Still wish to God I had a “raincoat” lying around. Can’t believe I let some sophomoric blunder take down the evening a notch. Not that it was ruined because every moment I spend with Laney is perfect, but it could have been elevated to a whole new level if I had the proper equipment to carry out the task at hand. I almost went for it. I came this close to playing God with both our futures and plunged into her, thrust after thrust, unstoppable. I’m glad I didn’t though. Not that I don’t want kids with Laney someday because I do. I want the whole happily ever after package, and if that means investing in a minivan and a never-ending supply of diapers so be it. With Laney by my side life is going to fade from a black and white world to a brilliant Technicolor surprise.
“What’s up?” A hard slap lands over my shoulder, and I turn to find Bryson with a goofy grin on his face. “Heard you swept Sawyer off her feet last night.”
“Good news travels fast.” I nod him into my office, and he follows.
“Laney sort of left Baya holding the bag—her bag to be exact. So”—he connects his fingers at the tips as we take a seat—“speaking of bags, you bag anything last night? Anyone?”
“You’re subtle.” I open my laptop before relaxing into my chair. “Does ‘sort of’ count?”
“Sort of?” He looks amused then it quickly morphs into something shy of pity. “Bummer.”
“No, definitely not a bummer. We held strong and put our bodies to good use. It’s not that I couldn’t, it’s that I didn’t have the proper equipment to wage war.” I nod into him. “No battle helmet.”
“Dude.” Bryson pulls his wallet from the back of his jeans, and it looks as if he’s literally pulling it out of his ass. “Make love not war and all that good shit.” He flings a couple of foil packets my way.
“Thanks.” I snap them up like they’re Halloween candy. “I didn’t know you were packing.”
“Yeah, well, you never know when you’re going to shoot a few off. Baya keeps me on my toes. You should get one of those industrial sized boxes,” he teases. “The way you and Sawyer used to look at each other, you’re going to need it.”
“Duly noted, and we will most definitely need it.”
Bryson nods into me. His expression grows somber, and I think I know where this is headed.
