He presses his chest lightly against my back, covering my hands with his as he helps me hold the rod. “Perfect,” he says, and his voice is soft now, almost intimate.
I huff out a laugh, more to cover the way my pulse stumbles. “You sound like you’ve taught this before.”
He smirks. “I told you, princess. I’m a man of many hidden talents.”
“Uh-huh. Hidden because no one’s ever seen them?” I shoot back, rolling my eyes.
Ryker chuckles, low and amused, and leans closer so his breath brushes my cheek.
“Careful. Keep talking like that and I might let you prove me right the hard way—by letting you catch nothing.”
I laugh, tilting my head toward him. “What, and let you win your little fishing contest? Not a chance.”
“Good.” His hands give my hips the faintest squeeze before slipping away, leaving the ghost of his touch burning hotter than the sun overhead. “Because I don’t plan on going easy on you.”
We settle onto the bank, waiting for a bite. After a few minutes of silence, I glance at him. “So… what happens now?”
He smirks, leaning back on his hands. “We wait.”
I wedge my fishing rod between rocks like he did and take a seat in the grass. The quiet feels different this time—lighter, safer somehow. I can’t resist teasing him. “You still haven’t caught a fish yet.”
He chides me, playful but precise. “Patience is important.”
I roll my eyes again, grinning, then ask, “How did you learn to fish?”
His smile falters. For a second, he’s quiet, almost lost in thought. “My dad’s driver, Max… he used to take me along when I was younger. My father was always busy—meetings, council business, important stuff. One day Max just… asked if I wanted to tag along. And I loved it. The quiet. The stillness. It was one of the few times I didn’t have to rush. It made me… calm, in the middle of all the chaos.”
I notice a shadow cross his face. “Are you still close to him?”
He hesitates, and when he speaks, it’s guilty. “No… not really.”
He stares off into the pond, lost in his memories. “You see, my father demands perfection. Even as a kid…if I made a mistake, there were consequences…”
I stay silent, urging him to explain.
“One day we were called back from a fishing trip early. I was in such a rush, I knew Max had to hurry. Dad doesn’t like to wait… I hopped in the car without realizing I left the lid loose on my juice. It spilled in the back of Dad’s limo… I was terrified. I didn’t want to get into trouble, so I said nothing. I just hoped he wouldn’t notice. Max… must’ve realized what would happen to me if my dad found out. He’s been around for enough time to see the punishments I went through for carelessness. So he took responsibility and said that his son had caused the accident. My dad fired him the next day."
Ryker sighs as he looks up at the sky.
“I think about that a lot when I come here. Max gave me that inner peace in the crazy world of Greed… and I couldn’t even own my mistake. He had to cover for me. And he got fired.”
I reach over, touching his arm. “Ryker… that wasn’t your fault. You were a kid. Kids make mistakes.”
He brushes it off, the cocky mask snapping back into place. “Let’s not ruin the day, Princess.”
We swap stories about home and childhood, our laughs echoing across the water. Every so often, he nudges me with a teasing grin, and I fire back just as sharp. I glance at the pond. “So… are there actually any fish in here?”
His smirk curls, teasing, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe,” he says, shoulders tilting like he’s sharing some grand secret, “maybe not.”
Some time later, my line jerks.
“Ryker!” I yell, not sure what to do next. I grasp the rod and start spinning the handle, struggling to reel it in. He jumps up beside me, hands on the rod to guide me. The tension is thrilling as we both work to pull the fish free.
When I see it—smaller than my hand—I squeal in triumph. Ryker laughs, overjoyed, pride shining in his eyes.
“I win!” I yell as he laughs.
“I don’t know if that’s even big enough to qualify as an actual fish, but sure. You win.”
