“Yeah,” Ryder says.
Remy claps me on the shoulder. “Don’t spank him too hard, Miss Rose, even if he likes it.”
“I—err… won’t?” I sputter.
Rebecca laughs. “And if he starts pouting again, put him in time-out.”
A ghost of a smirk pulls at his lips as he looks between his siblings. “Family loyalty is always heartwarming.”
Both of them beam back at him with identical shit-eating grins.
But the smile dulls on Ryder’s face as we head toward the exit. Music and laughter fade behind us, replaced by the chirp of crickets and the rustle of wind through the trees lining the parking lot.
“Where are you staying?” he asks, his voice careful, neutral.
“The Rockwood Hotel.” Ryder releases my hand as if this is another betrayal. But I’m never keeping anything from him again, so it’s going to be only hard truths from now on. “It was the only place in town with rooms.”
He shakes his head. “Yeah, I’m not going there.”
My stomach drops. Of course he won’t. I scramble to find an alternative—we could talk in the parking lot, or?—
“Rhys is staying with my mother tonight.” He meets my eyes. “We can go to my place.”
The ride to Ryder’s house is tense. I drive, and he sulks in silence save for when he has to give me directions once we pass the gates of Hollow Creek.
I pull up in front of his farmhouse, a smaller replica of his mother’s: single-story instead of double, white clapboard, with a deep wrap-around porch. The place suits him. It’s rustic and a little retro. A beautiful classic.
In the yard, a tire swing hangs from an oak tree, and a small red bike is abandoned in the grass.
I kill the engine, and the silence that rushes in feels heavy enough to drown in.
Ryder climbs out without a word. I follow on shaky legs.
I expect him to unlock the door and invite me in, but he stops on the porch, dropping onto one of the rustic wooden armchairs with cushioned seats. He gestures for me to take the other one before he crosses his arms over his chest.
Is he afraid of being alone in the house with me? Because he doesn’t trust himself, or because letting me inside would open a door he wants to keep shut?
Even sitting outside, I feel like an intruder.
In the half shadows of the porch, his features are hard to read, but it’s obvious he’s waiting.
“I don’t know where to start,” I tell him.
“How about with the truth?” His voice is flat. “All of it.”
I nod. I’m not sure I’m ready to share everything, but I’m also done hiding.
“I co-founded my gaming studio with two other people. We started small, but our third game took off to a level no one expected. I was the creative lead together with my ex, and the other guy was the financial brain.”
Ryder nods. He probably already looked this up online.
“It was a dream,” I continue. “We went from three college kids in a garage to a full studio. We had investors, a team, we won awards. Eclipse Born became this… phenomenon. And I loved creating something that mattered to people. That brought them joy.”
Ryder’s face remains carved in stone. He doesn’t give me any hint how he’s taking this, but I continue anyway.
“But then I blurred the line between loving the work and thinking I loved the person I developed those games with. I started dating one of my co-founders, our CEO.”
Ryder’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt.
