Warmth spreads throughout my body. Oh my God. This woman’s a fucking bunny-boiling loon. Truly. And, oh my fucking God, I love her more than life itself.
64
Ryan
“Is he mad? Anyway,there’s something on his mind, as sure as there must be something on a deck when it cracks.”
I’m insane. It’s official.
It’s been four days since I’ve been home from Maui and I’m most definitely not right in the head. Why the fuck did I tell Tessa I’d give her eight fucking days to “process”? When I said that bullshit, I thought for sure I was actually gonna speak to Charlotte that very night, get her permission to tell Tessa the truth about our phone conversations, and then head straight to Tessa’s room to tell her everything and make sweet love to her all night long.
But it’s been four fucking days and Charlotte still hasn’t called me back—and I can’t understand why she’s ignoring me. All I can think is Tessa must have called Charlotte and told her everything that happened... and Charlotte misunderstood and thought I threw her under the bus? Or maybe Charlotte confessed everything to Tessa and the two of them got into a big fight? I just don’t know. Either way, Charlotte’s radio-silence is driving me mad—especially when I haven’t talked to Tessa, either.
I’ve texted Tessa every day since I got back to Seattle, of course, just to tell her I’m thinking about her and can’t wait to talk to her and can we maybe speed things up a bit here, despite what I said in Maui? But she’s replied to insist she needs to talk to Josh about the Captain’s thing before she has “full clarity.”
Fuck! If only she’d trust me, or, fuck it, if not me, then my entire family. Because, oh my God, if I’d had any doubts about how perfectly Tessa and I fit together (not that I ever did), those doubts would have been laid to rest during my flight back to Seattle, when at least fifteen members of my family berated me, telling me “not to be an idiot” and to “close the deal on that girl.”
“I’m with you, guys,” I told everyone. “You’re preaching to the choir. But she’s a tough nut to crack.”
“Well, crack that dang nut,” Mom said emphatically. “I swear, Rum Cake, if you don’t have babies with that girl, I’ll never forgive you as long as I live.”
“I’ll do my best, Mom.”
And now, here I am, lying on my couch in sweats and bedhead, just back from a particularly grueling workout at the gym, feeling too sorry for myself to do a damned thing except lie here and flip channels.
My phone rings and I quickly grab it, hoping it’s Charlotte—or, better yet, Tessa. But, unexpectedly, the name on my display screen says “Josh.”
“Yo, Lambo,” I say, answering the call.
“Yo, Captain.”
“Aren’t you and Kat still on your honeymoon?”
“Yeah. We’re still here, having a blast. I’m calling because I was just telling my lovely wife about Captain’s, and I mentioned I’ve got this fantastic idea to cut T-Rod in as a part-owner—out of Jonas’ and my share, don’t worry. I want T-Rod to have some skin in the game, but only ifthat’s something you’d be comfortable with, you know.”
“Yeah. Great idea. Do it.”
“Great. So, anyway, I was telling Kat about all that and...” Josh sighs. “Ryan, Kat spilled the beans. She told me everything.”
The hair on my arms stands up. “Everything?”
“That T-Rod’s Samantha and you two were having a torrid love affair all week in Maui. And that you love her.”
My stomach ties into knots.
“Ryan, I owe you a huge apology,” Josh says. “Jonas and I really torpedoed everything for you. So, I’m calling to find out if there’s any way I can help make things right. Dude, let’s figure out how I can help you get your girl.”
65
Ryan
“Hello?” a male voice says into the phone.
“Mr. Rodriguez?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Hi, Mr. Rodriguez. My name is Ryan Morgan. You’re familiar with Josh Faraday, your daughter Tessa’s employer?”
