Page 32 of Wicked

“If I want something permanent with him, will you give me up?” Acceptance and letting go flows both ways. “Ryker is willing to do anything, Shephard.”

I asked. I bargained. I’m willing to propose a compromise that will save Shephard’s and my friendship. It’s my heart we’re speaking of. And the rest of my life. But Ryker Conway has to back up his words with action.

“If he’s willing to risk his career in the NFL for a chance at happiness with you, then, yes, Harper, I will let you go.”

13

Harper

“Why didn’t he come skate and jump with us?”

“He was busy.” I’ve already told April this, but she’s fishing for a different answer.

“Will he show today? He lost. He’s supposed to pay.”

She’s indignant. Hurt feelings too. We walk inside the huge warehouse that houses the indoor park.

Sighing, I pull her to me. “I don’t think so, sweetie. He and his team won last night’s game. I’m sure he was out late celebrating and is too tired”—wasted—“to make his way here.”

Ryker probably went home with one or more willing coed too. How can a guy who’s into open relationships refuse any propositions thrown his way?

“Hey, Harper. April.”

That deep voice . . . Cocky. Unapologetic. I hold back the urge to throw my arms around Ryker’s neck and plant a kiss on the curve of his cheek. Or give him the cold shoulder for cancelling on me and the kids.

Instead, I opt for something in between. I hang back but greedily take in how nicely his shirt stretches across his wide shoulders and broad chest and clings to his tight abs. And the sinewy muscles lining his arms… He notices me admiring the results of his time in the gym and flexes his arms, shooting me a knowing smile, his head tilting to the side.

Near the hostess’ podium are the rest of the kids and their parents. Ryker extends his hands to us. Our hands in his, we make our way to the large group. After Ryker pays, the parents leave, thanking us on their way out. The kids’ excited voices float ahead of us.

“What the hell did I get myself roped into?” A teasing lilt in his voice.

“Two hours of water slides, splash pools, and water fights.” I clasp my hands behind my back, my steps airy as we make our way to the locker rooms.

He laughs. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Unable to stop smiling, I tip my head at the girls’ locker room. “See you on the other side.”

“You better. No way can I handle eight kids.” He disappears inside the boys’ locker room.

“He made it.” April beams.

I find a locker for our clothes. “He did.”

What I want to say is to not let him grow on her. That she shouldn’t get used to having him around. But I don’t.

April might think she knows a thing or two about boys, having had a crush on Parker for the last year, but I want her to stay innocent about the ways a man and a woman can hurt one another for as long as possible.

Her mother was the love of her father’s life. Pete lost his wife to a drowning accident when April was ten. At least April had the chance to know her mother and witness for herself what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like.

The girls and I exit the locker room and head for where the boys are waiting next to a row of empty lounge chairs. The water park is busy but not so busy that the kids are waiting in line to go down the giant water slide or for us to be on the lookout for empty chairs to snag as soon as they’re unoccupied.

I unwrap the towel from around my waist and cover the lounge chair with it, giving me a soft place to watch the kids from, though there are lifeguardseverywhere.

From the corner of my eye, Ryker does the same. I’m about to sprawl out on the chair when large hands grab me under my arms and haul me against and then down onto his body as he settles us inhischair.

The lounge chair is low to the floor. I’m seated between his thighs, his bare feet on the spongy ground. His chest hair caresses my bare back. His large arms wrap around my midriff and tug me closer to his heat.

“Ryker.”

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