“Yes.” I paused for a moment, and when I didn’t hear any movement on the other, I spoke again. “Why can’t you believe I’m staying?”
“Because no one has ever cared. Not really, anyhow.”
I placed my hand on the door. I could hear the pain and sorrow, and perhaps a touch of anger, buried in the voice that he tried to keep gruff. He acted as though he wasn’t bothered by the lack of care and concern that he’d never experienced. I wanted to look into his eyes and promise him that I cared. I needed to be able to give him some reassurance and comfort.
“I told you I’m staying. You need to believe me when I tell you things, Ryder.”
“Okay. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Take your time. I’ll be in the living room.”
Walking to the living room, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sent a text to Oscar to let him know I would be staying with Ryder this evening and that I wouldn’t be needing a ride for quite some time. My next text was to Will. I didn’t want him pacing the floor waiting for my call tonight because at this point, I knew nothing, and it was just as important that I stay with Ryder and build more trust with him.
We’re back at the hotel. He’s been quiet, but I think once he relaxes, he’ll open up to me.
Is he sick or hurt? Do you need me to send my doctor?
Not at this time.
Make sure he’s okay.
I will.
Don’t leave him if you’re not sure.
I won’t.
I still want to know what happened. Call me in the morning.
I will.
I began to wonder how tightly I needed to buckle up for the next four years of the obsessive and helicopter version of Will. Things could get interesting.
22
Atlas
December
While I waited for Ryder, I sat on the couch and sipped on my coffee. I heard the water shut off in the bathroom and wondered how much I’d be able to pull out of him tonight. As soon as he appeared in the doorframe of the bedroom, I stood and gestured to the couch.
“Can I get you something to drink? Perhaps something warm?”
“Nah. I’ll just have some water,” he said as he picked up a half-full plastic water bottle that was sitting on the counter beside the coffee maker.
I sat on the couch, leaned back, and stretched my arm across the top of the cushions. Ryder flopped down beside me and held his hand out to show me the four teal liquid gels in the palm of his hand.Ibuprofen. He unscrewed the lid from the bottle of water, tossed the pills into his mouth, and chased them with the room temperature water.
“You know, you do have a small fridge over there for beverages. You don’t have to drink warm water, Ryder.”
“It’s okay. I’m fine with it.”
He put the lid on the bottle and set it on the table before he sat back against the cushions. He slouched on the couch, leaned back, and stretched his legs out to prop them on the coffee table. I wasn’t going to bust his balls over putting his feet on a coffee table tonight. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the cushion. Strands of his damp hair tickled my bare forearm, tempting me to stroke his head. He was so close, voluntarily close. I appreciated the fact that he wasn’t trying to avoid me. Maybe this was him trying to relax. Afterall, he was sitting right beside me.
I had to hold back the urge to reach out and gently massage his temples when his hands went to his head again. I didn’t doubt that he had a headache; that was obvious. But something else was going on in his head.
“Is your headache any better?”
“Not yet. It’s a little better than when we were still at the party. As long as I don’t think too much, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he said as his eyes remained closed.
