“Thanks, man,” he mumbled.
I said goodbye to him and sent a message to my group chat with Anson and Evan.
Klaus: Ryder is doing it.
Anson: Finally. I told him last night to get on it.
Evan: We’ll have to give him a party once it’s over. I honestly can’t wait to see them together.
Klaus: Fingers crossed, brothers.
For good measure, I’d cross my eyes and legs too. That’s how hard I was rooting for this to happen.
44
RYDER
My legs bounced as I watched Rosalie play the new guitar Anson had sent over. The look on her face when she’d opened it made my heart clench.
I wanted her to be that excited for me, too.
Now, she sat on the couch, playing a tune softly, singing every now and then. Sometimes she’d pause to scribble on paper before going back to the guitar.
I’d been watching her for well over an hour now, and it wasn’t getting easier. I had to take my mind off shit.
I had to tell her how I felt. It was going to drive me mad, and Klaus was right. Basically, shit or get off the pot.
Anxiety wasn’t really my thing. I’d never had it a day in my life until recently, when it came to Rosalie. I was torturing myself with her, and I really needed to put an end to it.
Fucking Cole had come over that morning and brought her a breakfast he’d made. I’d scowled at him the entire time as he gave me a smug look.
Luckily, I heard him tell her that he was on shift until tomorrow morning, so I wouldn’t have to deal with his ass for a full twenty-four hours.
And I doubted Ethan or Enzo would show up since apparently now they had our address.
“Red?” I called out.
She looked up at me. “Yeah?”
“Dinner?”
“Ooh, yeah.” She said, setting her guitar aside. “What are you thinking?”
“Lasagna?”
She came to me, smiling. “Sounds perfect.”
We set to work after that, a comfortable silence falling over us. Or maybe it was comfortable for her, but for me, it was killing me.
“How’s your song coming along?” I asked.
“I think I’m stuck on the chorus,” she said with a sigh.
“Maybe I can help after dinner,” I offered.
She gave me a smile. “I’d like that. Ani suggested that you help me too.”
Of course, he did. God, he and the guys were fucking Cupids, or at least trying to be. I appreciated their faith in this, but damn. The anxiety really was killing me.
