Page 8 of Pulled Away

“So nice to meet you,” she says, looking at me with curiosity. Fuck, even her voice is beautiful, not too high, not too low, with a timbre that’s smooth and cultured.

I settle next to Ryan, desperately casting around for something to say. I don’t know why I’m feeling so out of my depth.

“Are you enjoying the wine?” I ask as she takes a sip.

“It’s good. A bit sweet for my taste, though.” She flashes me an apologetic smile. “I’ve become accustomed to a bit of a drier blend.”

I return her smile, showing I’m not offended. A person likes what they like.

“So, Ryan and I got the apartment ready for you,” I try again. “We thought you’d prefer having some privacy while you’re here.”

“Yes, Ryan gave me a tour,” she says, keeping her eyes on him. “You’ve done well for yourself. I always knew you would.”

“Not as well as you’ve done.” He sits back, resting his arm on my shoulders.

“And you’re surprised?” she teases. “I told you to move to London. You’re wicked smart and I’ve built up a lot of connections. I know a few people who’d be happy to employ you.”

“My family is here,” he says with a lift of his shoulders, but his face falls when her lips draw down. “Hadley.” His voice is soft, compassionate, filled with a thousand unspoken meanings that I’m not privy to, as he lifts his arm from my shoulders and reaches out across the table, taking her hand.

“It’s fine. I know what you mean.” She squeezes his hand but keeps her fingers tangled in his.

I know Ryan. I’ve seen him interact with his friends. Friends he’s had since childhood, but this somehow feels different. The smile they share speaks of a closeness between them that’s not there with Bailey or Hannah. That uncomfortable feeling slithering up my spine is back, and I shift in my seat, breaking their eye contact. This time Ryan is the one squeezing her hand before he lets go and picks up his beer.

“What is it that you do? Ryan never said.”

“I’m a Quantitative Analyst for a Wealth Management Firm.”

Fuck me, I don’t even know what that is.

“That’s nice,” I say with a wan smile. No way I’m owning up to being clueless.

“Hadley keeps saying I’m smart, but she’s one of the smartest people I know. I could never beat her in an argument.”

“Not that you let that stop you from trying,” she laughs.

I turn to Ryan in disbelief. “You? Argue?” He’s one of the most laid-back guys I know. “I can count on one hand the times we’ve argued.”

“Hadley always knew what buttons to push,” he mutters, playfully narrowing his eyes at her.

“You should try it.” The wink she gives me has my hackles rising. “It keeps things fresh and interesting.”

Taking a deep breath, I tamp down my annoyance. Ryan and I aren’t like that. Things have mostly been easy between us, and I don’t see the point of creating conflict just for the sake of it. Glancing at my phone, I note the time in relief.

“Oh, wow, I didn’t realize the time. You must be exhausted after your long flight.”

She waves me off. “Not really. Business class, you know,” she says, as if I should know. I’ve never even been on a plane, let alone business class.

“No, Aspen’s right. You might not feel tired, but jet lag is a thing and we have an early day tomorrow. You might not feel it now, but you’ll thank me in the morning.”

My brow furrows. “An early day?”

As far as I’m aware, the only plan we have is to spend a couple of hours at the rescue. Time and moisture have done a number on the storage cabinets in the supply room and they’re beyond saving. They’re heavy, so Ryan’s helping me carry them outside so I can start ripping up the flooring. But that’s only late morning.

“Ryan offered to take me to see my dad.”

“You don’t mind, do you?” He stands up, looking at me in apology, his brows knitted.

“It’s okay if it is,” she says with a small grimace, cutting in before I can answer. “I’m sorry for being selfish tonight and derailing your plans. We haven’t seen each other in years, and I wanted him all to myself for a bit.” The way she smiles at him is soft, a world of meaning in the tilt of her lips.

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