Page 104 of Resist

I want to tell him that’s definitely a different way of looking at things. That it sounds like something a poet would say—romantic, yet unrealistic—and yet when I open my mouth to refute him, nothing comes out.

He takes notice. “See, you’re looking at this like a woman when you need to be looking at it like a man.”

“And how would a man look at it?” I ask, more than skeptical.

“I’ll be the first to admit that for the most part, we’re fearful creatures. Scared of fucking everything up. So when we meet someone like you—strong, independent, tell it like it is, and drop-dead gorgeous—well, we get knocked off our stride some and don’t know how to react.”

I think of Ryker. Of his reputation. Of his own take-no-bullshit attitude.

“I was a challenge.” My thoughts tumble out into words I’m not even sure I utter.

“And let me guess—now you’re not?”

I eye him. The last thing I need to do is talk about my sex life with Ahmed.

“Here’s the thing: men think the challenge is what they want. And maybe it is at first. But with the wrong girl, a guy would get what he came for and then bail faster than fast after he gets it . . . but for the right girl. Mmm. For the right girl, he’d be confused over what to do. He’d say words to hurt her and push her away because that’s so much easier than dealing with his own bullshit feelings. He’d do things that don’t make sense to you but that make perfect sense to him because what he hears in his own head and what comes out of his mouth are two entirely different things.”

“I assure you he meant what he did and what he said,” I murmur as tears well.

“You wouldn’t be as upset as you are if you really thought that was the truth.” He nods. “He’s just as scared by all of this as you are. He’s trying to figure out how you walked into his life and turned it upside down when he swore it would never happen. He’s mad at you for it.” He holds up his hand when I start to protest. “But madder at himself.”

I force a smile and sigh heavily, not feeling any better but possibly understanding a bit more. “I appreciate you trying to make me feel better.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel better. I’m just telling you like I see it.”

“Thank you. It was sweet of you.” I push my chair back to stand. “I should leave you be—”

“No. Sit for a while. I’ve got to head over to a friend’s house.” He rises and places the strap of his knapsack over his shoulder. “And, uh, this conversation never happened.” He offers me a wink and a smile before turning on his heel and leaving.

I watch the door open, then close, staring after him as he strides away, confused but a little more settled with thoughts of sunsets on my mind.

CHAPTER FORTY

Ryker

“You want to explain why you’re being such an asshole to everyone and everything, or should I just hunch over here in the corner and hope I don’t get your wrath for breathing?” My glare doesn’t faze Stuart as he stands there with his eyebrows raised and hands on his hips. “You forget, I have a tiger mom complete with the thick Chinese accent to boot,” he says, mimicking his mother’s accent. “You don’t scare me.”

“What do you need, Stuart?”

“Ah, I get the special treatment? Bella says you’re cussing out everyone who comes in here . . . I guess today’s my lucky day that you’re holding your tongue.”

“Stuart?” It’s a warning that my tongue will start lashing if he doesn’t get to his goddamn point.

“I’m here for you.” He drops a stack of files on my desk. “One’s a confirmed cheater. One’s a fetish freak that made me want to wash my retinas with bleach. And the other . . . she’s gorgeous and lonely and hasn’t done a thing to deserve her husband trying to fuck her over seven ways from Sunday.”

“Hmm,” I say as I glance at the files stacked on my desk but don’t move to look at them—the evidence I need to use against the wives in court to get them to bend to my settlement offer.

“Hmm? That’s all you’re going to give me?” He laughs. “No reprimand for me siding with one of the wives? No Stuart, I don’t need your opinions. No nothing?”

“I’m fresh out of anger.”

He eyes me when I don’t want to be studied, and I’m sure he’s seeing the same thing I saw in the mirror this morning. A moody fucker who misses Vaughn and isn’t sure what else to do for her other than to try to keep calling her when she won’t pick up the phone.

“Out of anger? Then you’re definitely not feeling okay.”

“You can go now, Stu.”

He stands there with his lips pursed, hands in his pockets, and I lift my eyebrows to let him know this conversation is over. He nods his head and then turns to leave.