Wheeler cuts me a look. “Honey, he organized this whole little ladies-who-lunch situation just for you.”
“I don’t get why, though,” I reply, though I’m starting to think that I actuallydoknow why he might’ve gone out of his way to put a smile on my face.
Holy shit, does Ryderlikeme?
Ava reads my mind and says, “Because he likes you.Likesyou.”
The idea makes my pulse skid. I look away, putting a hand on my face again. My skin is on fire now.Could they be right?
Does Ryder Rivers actually want me too, as more than just a hookup?
My thoughts whirl. How would it work? Would we tell Colt? How do I keep convincing Ryder to let me in the way he has today?
The sex would be hot.
So hot it’d burn and likely leave a scar. Am I ready for that?
Fuck yeah, I’m ready.But what if sex is all that’s on offer? Ryder and I could very well want different things. And then what? I die of a broken heart watching him do what he’s always done and pick up a different girl every time he’s at the Rattler?
“Youlikehim too, huh?” Sally is looking at me.
I really do. Even if we ultimatelydowant different things.
I also really don’t want to lie to these girls. Maybe because I feel like they’d never lie to me.
It also feels good to have people to talk to about this stuff other than, well, the horse I used to race on.
“I’ve always liked Ryder,” I say on an exhale, tucking my hair behind my ear. “He’s just always seemed way,wayout of my league. Or maybe just not interested, you know? I’m his friend’s little sister. What’s lamer than that?”
“Correction: What’shotterthan that? Forbidden love?” Sally makes a folding motion with her hand. “Gimme.”
“Even if my brother wouldn’t murder us, Ryder’s not exactly a Steady Eddie.”
“He might be for you. There’s only one way to find out.” Wheeler rests her chin on my shoulder and meets my eyes in the mirror. “I think you wear these boots and the pair of jeans that makes your ass look the hottest, and you do what you do best.”
“What’s that?”
“Ride, honey.”
CHAPTER 10
Tit for Tat
BILLIE
Heart drumming,I press the heel of my hand on the center of my steering wheel and honk.
Once. Twice.
I consider a third time, but then the front door of the tiny farmhouse is opening and Ryder emerges, looking like a snack in a pair of sweatpants and a broken-in T-shirt that clings to his torso in an alarmingly sexy way.
Relief floods my veins.He’s actually home.
His hair is a little wet. It curls out at the ends in these adorable little tendrils that have my fingers itching to touch them.
He’s clearly in his comfy clothes, which I hope means he doesn’t have plans tonight. The soreness in my elbow has almost completely disappeared, so I decided it was time to venture out of the house without my sling.
Really, it was an excuse to venture over toRyder’shouse.
