“What? Why?” He opened his eyes and met mine.
“I can’t just stop caring, Ryder.”
“I don’t understand why you’d still care about me if I wasn’t going to attend Omnia Academy.”
“I cared from the moment I met you.”
And there’s nothing you could do to make me not care about you.
Ever.
23
Will
December
Istretched my arm outward so my watch would peek out from under the white cuff. Eleven forty-five a.m.
I hadn’t slept well last night and got out of bed at an obscenely early time. Far too early for a Sunday morning. I had paced the entire penthouse several times until I forced myself to stop and tried to occupy myself with doing something productive. After I’d read the same email three times and still had no clue what I read, I shut my laptop and threw productivity out the window.
Wrapping my hand around the warm coffee mug, I stood and meandered over to the window. I gazed out over Central Park as I took a long sip. Exercising patience right now wasn’t easy. As I waited to hear from Atlas, I welcomed thoughts of the young man who would become mine.
Ryder Baker Smith.
I continued to sip on the coffee while my mind flooded with thoughts of him. The first time seeing him would beforever burned into my memory. I no longer gave a fuck about getting caught with my hand in the cookie jar. I completely accepted that analogy. I’d been disciplined enough to not pry into anything regarding the young man I asked Atlas to find. I even maintained enough restraint to not look at photos of the incoming Omnias. By not knowing what he looked like, it was as though I had edged myself and built up anticipation for last night. I had allowed myself to cheat a tad by looking at the names of the Omnias and their mentors. The moment I saw him with Atlas, the cookie jar may as well have tipped right off the counter. And I made no attempts to casually place it back either.
I engaged in conversation with Ryder in the hallway just before dinner. The sound of his voice made me an instant addict. It was uniquely gruff and gravelly. While we briefly chatted, I absorbed and took in as much of him as I could…right down to the hint of a recent cut or scar that poked out above the collar on the back of his neck.
My guess was that he’s about six feet tall, give or take an inch. Strong jaw line that supported a youthful face. He sported a nice, clean haircut. One that I felt no shame in imagining the ways I’d make it sweaty and so that not a strand was left in place. His gray eyes were intently focused on the small orchestra. He liked music. Though he hadn’t said so specifically, I could tell because he’d been drawn to stand there and listen to the musicians while talking to a complete stranger about it. The way he watched the musicians was unlike the way any other Omnia watched. In fact, no other young man stopped to pay any attention to them. Only my Ryder.
When Atlas appeared in the hallway, I felt insanely jealous of him. It was the first time I’d ever felt that way toward another man. I hated the feeling of wanting something yet being absolutely helpless and unable to do a damn thing about it. Atlas gets to have so much contact and interaction with my Ryderover the next four years. But I would take full advantage of every moment I could with Ryder.
I actually couldn’t be happier that Ryder had Atlas. I had confidence that Atlas would watch over him. Especially after last night. I took another sip of coffee as I replayed our interaction in the courtyard.
I offeredhim my handkerchief and caught him by surprise. If I’d known how much that was going to startle him, I wouldn’t have spoken. He jumped, and as he whipped his head around to look at me, he’d lost his footing and fell backward against the planter. With wide eyes, he took the handkerchief with a shaking hand and pressed it against his chin and mouth.
What happened to him?
He kept trying to swallow. By the look on his face, I couldn’t tell if the act of swallowing was physically causing him discomfort or if he was simply bone dry from all the spitting. He finally pulled the fabric away from his mouth and kept his eyes down as he spoke. Hearing him like this intensified my level of concern. His gravelly voice shook as he spoke while his eyes nervously shifted around.
He raised his eyes and briefly looked at me before looking at the house and then dropping his eyes back to the ground. “I…um…am s-sorry for dis-rupting you or kee-keeping you f-from s-s-something.” With each quivering word, his eyebrows scrunched more and more. He seemed to be angry with himself for something with the way he shook his head.
Ryder raised his head and looked at me as if he didn’t believe me when I told him I was also coming outside for fresh air, but then I saw him and was concerned he might be sick or hurt. His puffy lips were clamped tightly closed, but I could still see them tremble ever so slightly. His nostrils flared in and outas his glassy eyes looked at me for another moment before he averted his gaze again.
He tried to tell me that he was fine, but I knew better. He wasn’t. He took a deep breath and then looked up at me again. He appeared to be concentrating hard on speaking calmly and slowly as he blamed a bad headache for him being outside. He wasn’t well. His hair was damp, he was shaking, and he’d been continually spitting.
He was obviously shaken and upset about something, and at that moment, I was just a stranger to him. But I wanted nothing more than to find out what had happened that caused him to react that way. If someone in the Apollo suite had hurt him or upset him, there’d be hell to pay.
I offered to help him off the ground, but he politely declined and stood carefully on his own. I had tried to get a feel for if he wanted to go inside, but he had said that he felt he needed to stay outside for a while longer. There was no way I was going to leave him outside alone in this condition. Remembering how much he seemed to enjoy listening to the music, I suggested the benches that were much closer to the house and within earshot of the orchestra.
The cell phonein my pocket rang, and I quickly set the mug on the end table behind me. I pulled the phone out, and as I brought it to my ear, I saw that it was Atlas.About damn time.
“Atlas.”
“Morning, Will.”
“There’s not much left of it.”
