“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” I confirmed once again with him. Because, how could this be real? How could I be so close to this man when hours ago I was unsure of how or when I would see him again, only to now have two dates in one weekend?
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Odette.” He blew a kiss to me and walked over to one of the central parking lots. I stood there as the hustle around me continued, as everyone was finishing packing up.
I was going to see Ryker tomorrow.
Shit.
I headed toward the house with one mission: get Ryker down on the page so that I knew he was real.
“So, walk me through what happened one more time.”
I rolled my eyes at Jemma’s request. I’d already explained what had happened at the farmer’s market yesterday multiple times this morning, but she was persistently asking me every chance there was a lull in the conversation.
“For the hundredth time, I was out shopping and writing, then we literally bumped into each other. He helped clean up the tea I spilled, we kissed, and then I showed him around the rest of the market and different booths. Once everything was closed, we said goodbye, and Ryker asked me to go out to dinner with him tonight. The end.”
“You know, every time you tell this story, I get less excited.” I turned around to see Jemma reading my current work in progress notebook while I rummaged through my closet, trying to figure out what I should wear for my date tonight. I had no idea what to wear because this man was dead set on keeping it a surprise. Even with messaging him today, he wouldn’t give it up, just that he’d be here by seven.
“You’re only less excited about it because I’m not giving all the juicy details anymore.” I rolled my eyes, even though she couldn’t see it, while I pulled out a pair of my favorite mom jeansthat I usually rolled up mid-calf, which had holes on the knees. Casual, but could still be cute dressed up.
“You might not be giving the juicy details, but this new story sure is.” I turned around to see Jemma fanning herself and then flipping the page. There was no use in stopping her from reading what I was working on. I took the kiss we had yesterday and ran with it in this story, even taking it further than just a kiss. While none of what I knew she was reading had happened in real life, my stomach did a little tumble, hoping that it might with Ryker.
“Cute top or casual?” I turned around so she could see the bottoms I chose, completely ignoring the comment she made about the notebook.
“Where is he taking you?”
I sat down on the bed next to Jemma, “I’m not sure, he didn’t really say where, just to be ready by seven.”
“Go casual; it’s what you are most comfortable with, but you can always dress it up with a cardigan and a cute purse, your usual.”
I went to my dresser and rummaged through the drawers until I found the shirt I was looking for, my Luke’s Diner shirt, and grabbed my dark brown cardigan out of the closet with my brown bucket bag purse. It was perfect, a cute and casual outfit for an evening dinner this time of year. It felt like fall, without it being in full effect.
“Yes?” I did a little spin for Jemma after getting changed, needing one last approval.
She looked up from her phone since she’d stopped reading my notebook.
“Perfect.” She was grinning ear to ear with pride and motioned for me to come and sit next to her. “I’ve been trying to do some digging as well.”
“On what?”
“Ryker and Beckett.”
I looked at her, confused.
“I thought there was nothing going on between you and Beckett?” I questioned her.
“There isn’t,” she said cruelly. “But I’m just so fucking curious as to how they ended up at the award show. The Beckett I knew growing up was never a gamer, and while people can change, I can tell you that man would never game a day in his life.”
“I asked Ryker about being at the awards yesterday, and he couldn’t give me much either, but did say Beckett played a little, so maybe he has changed?”
Jemma turned her phone around to me and showed me Beckett’s social media page. “There isn’t a computer in any of these photos, or a setup, which is odd because most guys who game or even just stream always have photos of their setup. There is, however, his signature electric guitar that he got for his tenth birthday in every photo.” She was staring at one photo of him for a little too long before she caught me watching and swiped away.
She wasn’t wrong, though. When I’d gotten home last night, after writing, I tried to deep dive to find Ryker online, and while I was able to, since his account followed my gaming page, he hadn’t posted on there in years. He most likely used it to simply lurk rather than post. I had found a few gaming setup photos that had been posted, but they didn’t have captions and had no games displayed on the computer screens.
“I saw a couple on Ryker’s page, but they were from at least five years ago and nothing since.”
“I did too, that’s why I went down the rabbit hole of searching Beckett’s, since he’d made an offhand comment when he pulled me away from you at the ball, that Ryker was his assistant, and that he was the one into gaming. It just felt off when he told me, like he had to say it, not that he wanted to tell me that.”
“That seems odd, since Ryker didn’t mention that yesterday, but then again, he didn’t mention much.”
