Page 97 of Come Break My Heart Again

“Oh, cool,” Keira says. “I went to Stanford for college.”

“I loved Stanford. And I was playing tennis, so I was very tempted to go there. But I wanted to get a little farther from home.”

“Where did you end up?”

“Michigan.”

“My brother went there! He loved it.”

“Yeah, it’s a great school.”

“Do you have any siblings?” Keira asks.

“Nope.” Pres picks up his beer. “I’m an only child, like Elle.”

Averyawkward silence falls, making it obvious I wasn’t the only one eavesdropping on Keira and Prescott.

Everyone here—with the exception of Gavin and, I guess, Prescott—knows I’m not technically one.

Prescott’s brow wrinkles as he tries to figure out what the sudden undercurrent of tension is.

Ryder’s expression is stony as he takes another sip of beer. I have no idea what he’s thinking. Is he judging me for not telling Prescott about Rose? I never told Pres I was an only child. He just assumed, logically, from the lack of siblings in my life. Rose’s death isn’t a topic that comes up naturally. I’m used to the important people in my life already knowing about my late sister.

Since I can’t come up with any natural way to redirect the conversation, I blurt, “Could I get out? I need to grab a water.”

“We can flag a waiter,” Prescott says.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve been sitting all day. Standing sounds good.”

He nods but frowns slightly at the flimsy explanation. I hastily slide out of the booth and hurry toward the bar.

It takes a minute for the bartender to work his way down to me.

“An ice water, please,” I request.

“Make that two.”

I stiffen at the sound of his voice, but Ryder says nothing else. When I gather the courage to glance over, his eyes are on the television behind the bar, focused on the baseball game. The Sox are losing.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” I tell him.

“That makes two of us.” His gaze falls to the varnished wood of the bar top. “Cormac’s mentioned wanting me to see his campus, so when Tuck said he was headed into the city, I thought …” He shrugs. “I should get going soon. Cormac thought he’d be done at his internship at six.”

I’m taken aback—stunned really—by the strong urge that slams into me.

I want to see it. I want to be there to witness when Cormac proudly shows off his accomplishments to his big brother.

But Ryder has no idea that I’ve kept in touch with Nina or Cormac. And he doesn’tcare, not the way I do. He never did.

“You’re a good brother,” I tell him.

“You’re a good sister,” he replies softly.

Cutting to the chase, like always. Not letting me hide. He knows exactly why I left the table.

I scoff. “Not really. I never talk about her. I only go to her grave once a year, on the anniversary of her death.”

“So?”

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