Ryder had been that. If anyone had asked him, he would’ve said I was always in his corner, but the reverse was true as well. Ryder had always been inmycorner. This was just what I owed him, as far as I was concerned.
And it could have been as simple as that, except that now Dad was invested.
I’d meant to tell him the truth, that I was doing Ryder a favor, that we weren’treallydating, but I couldn’t do it.
Instead, I slid my hand over Ryder’s on top of the table while we waited for dessert to arrive, squeezed his fingers, and watched my dad’s eyes light up when he saw it.
This wasn’t just about Ryder anymore.
“You’ve been quiet all night, Ryder,” Dad said, worn-out pleather squeaking under him as he sat back in the booth.
“Thinking,” Ryder said, lips almost twitching into a smile before they gave up again.
I was starting to worry that I’d done the wrong thing, or that he was mad at me, but I couldn’t exactly ask in front of Dad. Ryder had it in his head that he was always the one screwing up, but I was pretty sure it was on me this time.
“Dangerous hobby.” Dad grinned at him. “I try to avoid it.”
Ryder snorted, glancing at my hand where it was still curled around his. “Mr. Harrison, you’re the smartest man I know,” he said.
“I try not to let that get in the way of my no-thinking policy,” Dad joked. “But you can talk to me, you know. Anytime. Like always.”
“Thank you,” Ryder said. “Sincerely, I appreciate it.”
“Too early to ask if you’ve got any plans?” Dad asked. He knew the deal with Ryder—I’d told him, and I’d told him Ryder was staying with me because of it, just in case he came by the cabin before I got a chance to see him and they scared the hell out of each other.
“My agent wants me to show Ward off,” Ryder said. “Cute photos for Instagram and an appearance at a party or two in LA.”
It was good that we were telling at leastsomeof the truth, because I wasn’t sure I could outright lie to my dad.
“You’re gonna take Ward to one of your fancy Hollywood parties?” Dad asked, eyebrow raised.
“Hey!” I tossed the salt packet I’d been toying with at him. “I can be fancy.”
“You’re wearing my shirt,” Dad pointed out. “Which you rescued from a pile I was planning to tear into rags.”
“I stitched the cuff back on,” I defended, fingers going to it. “Besides, I only wear it to work in.”
“You wore a nearly identical one to the bar last night,” Ryder said.
Great, now they were ganging up on me.
“This is Otter Bay,” I said. “It’s allowed.”
“Not allowed in LA though, is it?” Dad asked.
Wasn’t it?
I supposed it wasn’t. Before now I hadn’t really thought about it, but Ryder looked like he’d stepped out of a fashion magazine. Not in a flashy way, but I hadn’t exactly missed the fact that his butt looked great in his perfect-fit jeans and the plain black tee he was wearing sat just right, coming in at the waist to show off the way it tapered from his shoulders.
My t-shirts didn’t do that. My jeans had actual holes in them that they hadn’t come with and they were baggy everywhere because that was comfy and I worked in them.
It wasn’t something I ever thought about, but next to Ryder I looked ridiculous. I was going to makehimlook ridiculous.
Dammit.
I shouldn’t have forced him into this. This was what he meant, wasn’t it? That I couldn’t do it.
He was right. I’d known I wasn’t good enough for him when I was a kid, and nothing about that had changed. I was still a small-town boy with small dreams who was happy to live in a small world.
