Page 94 of Hate To Love You

“Wait, seriously?” he asks in disbelief. I nod, biting my lip.

“My father was an Elite. Wade Sharpe. That’s the only reason I’m at Ellington U. I grew up in Barrington,” I explain, watching as Ryker’s face contorts from confusion to shock.

“Wow. I grew up in East Greenwich.”

My eyes widen. “No, you didn’t. Seriously? That’s only a thirty-minute drive away!” I squeal, a little too excited. Ryker chuckles.

“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that,” he says.

“What?” I ask.

“Any of it,” he shrugs.

We lay in comfortable silence for a few minutes before I decide to ask some more questions since I still don’t know much about him. He’s not an open book, and I can tell he doesn’t like talking about his feelings.

I know his family is wealthy, I know his father owns a very prestigious security company, and I know their family donates a lot of money to this school. I know he has a younger brother, but I don’t know how much they get along, or what their dynamic is like.

I haven’t really seen them together much, but the few times I have, they’ve seemed standoffish. Not as close as Ellie and Holland are, and I don’t know if that’s normal or not. I didn’t grow up with siblings, so I’m not completely sure how close you’re supposed to be to your brother or sister.

“Do you and your family get along?” I ask cautiously. Ryker’s hold on me tightens, and I know he’s going to shut down. “Please, Ryker. I’d really like to know more about you.”

I want him to open up to me. He’s already given me more than he’s ever given anyone else, and I’m so grateful for that. I want him to want to share with me. It would show that he trusts me.

Ryker lets out a long, deep breath, as if contemplating whether or not to share anything.

He stares up at the ceiling.

“My father and I have never gotten along. When I was younger, he was rarely ever home, and when he was, he’d be in his office all night. He never took me to baseball games or taught me how to throw a football. As I got older, he only spoke to me about The Steele Corporation and how I needed to be prepared to take over one day,” Ryker chuckles under his breath.

“It’s funny. I never wanted to take over the company. I wanted to branch out and do my own thing. I didn’t want to be tethered to my family name. His last name. But now, I just know he’s doing some shady shit. All he cares about is his money and his status in society.”

My face falls as I take in everything he’s just told me about his father. I can’t say I grew up the same way since my father did actually spend time with me. It’s only been the last few years that he’s turned into a shitty dad.

I imagine a young Ryker sitting in his yard with a baseball in his hand, all alone, waiting for his father to play catch, but he never comes. My heart aches for him.

Ryker repositions himself so he’s lying on his side, facing me. He grimaces slightly, then he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. I smile at the sweet gesture.

“My mother was a good mom. She made sure we had everything we needed, tucked us in at night, and helped us with homework. She was a stay-at-home mom, so she spent a lot more time with us,” his thumb gently rubs my cheek as he continues. “But she was a pushover. She’d do whatever my dad said, and she never tried to stop him when he’d…get physical with me. Logan never experienced what I did. He’s only a year younger, but for some shitty reason, I got the brunt of it.”

“Are you and Logan close?” I ask, already assuming the answer is no but wanting to hear him say it. Ryker laughs sardonically.

“Ha, no. We were never really close, not even as kids. We’re polar opposites, and when I started to notice that dad was treating us differently, I began to distance myself. I turned cold and unforgiving. I blamed my mom for staying with my father and letting him treat me poorly. Logan never saw it that way, and it made things difficult between us.”

God. I never realized how much he’d been through. Not that I would have; I didn’t know who he was.

After I met him, I thought he was just another arrogant, rich asshole that thought the world owed him something. But hearing the story about his family and the way he grew up, it kind of makes sense. The tough guy persona, the dickhead façade, it was all a protective ruse he’d built up from his childhood.

Bringing my hand up to his cheek, I lean in and give him a feather light kiss on his lips.

“Thank you for sharing that with me. It means more than you know,” I tell him, my voice thick with emotion.

“Anything for my girlfriend,” he says as a wide grin spreads across his face. My stomach flutters as his words sink in.

“Girlfriend, huh?” I ask. “I think I like that,” a grin that matches his taking over my features.

Good,” he pulls me closer to him and kisses me, making time stop. “God, Rebel. You are intoxicating.”

I pull back, narrowing my eyes.

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