“Yeah, of course.”
I’m relieved, honestly. There’s a big conversation looming, and it feels like leaving the house will avoid it—at least for now.
We stop to pick up a pizza, then drive to Nina’s—Ryder’s—trailer. She left it to both her sons, but I can’t picture Cormac ever living here. He only has one full year of college left and already has a job lined up in the city, working for the same company he interned for last summer.
Dinner is mostly silent, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I walk Scout up and down the road, stopping to say hi to Reese, who’s outside with Knox, and get ready for bed as soon as I’m back at the trailer. Scout makes himself comfortable on the couch, and I’m too tired to enforce theno furniturerule. He doesn’t have a crate here, so I can’t enforce it really.
Ryder heads into the bathroom as soon as I finish.
By silent agreement, we head into Ryder’s bedroom. Nina’s room is bigger, and all the medical equipment was removed, but it feels too strange to be in there with her gone.
“Going to be a tight fit,” he says, staring at the twin mattress.
“Heard that before,” I quip. “We always make it work.”
Ryder grins, but it collapses quickly. He climbs into bed first, so I crawl over his body, wedging mine against the wall. I end up half on his chest, the sheets pulled up to my chin.
“I love you.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Love you too, Lo.”
I relax into him, closing my eyes and trying to shut off my brain. I must succeed at some point because it’s a surprise when I wake up in bed, alone.
I roll over, squinting in the dark. It’s late. Or very early.
Eventually, my eyes focus on the figure by the window.
I slip out of bed, padding over to a still Ryder. He’s staring out the window, rolling an unlit cigarette between two fingers.
“Need a lighter?” I ask, resting my chin on his shoulder.
His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me tight to his side, but he doesn’t look away from the window. It’s not much of a view, grass that could use a mow and a stretch of vinyl fencing, but I know that’s not the point.
“No.” The syllable comes out raspy and thick. Ryder clears his throat. “No. I’m not going to smoke it.”
“Couldn’t sleep?”
“Not really. Sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t.”
“Do you want the house?” he asks.
I blow out a long breath. I knew the question was coming, but I wasn’t expecting it yet. “We don’t have to talk about that right now.”
“I want to,” he insists. “Do you want the house, Elle?”
“Only if you do.”
“It’s huge,” Ryder reminds me. “Five bedrooms.”
“I remember. I looked through them all, after we christened the kitchen.”
He glances over, scanning my expression.
I’m not sure how much of my face he can actually see in the dim light.
“The house is a gift, but there’s upkeep, utilities, furniture, taxes …”