Page 32 of Between Here and There

Ryan holds up a finger like he’s about to deliver a lecture. “She says she loves you both and doesn’t want anything to ruin whatever it is you’ve got going on. She asked me to be subtle about it, but, well…” He gestures to himself. “Subtlety isn’t exactly my thing.”

“No shit,” I mutter, turning back to the engine. “So Bon already has you handling her dirty work now?”

Ryan chuckles, then straightens, adopting a more serious tone. “I have to admit, though, I’m genuinely curious. What made you decide to commit to Emily? You’re usually... well, allergic to relationships.”

“Who says I’m allergic to relationships?” I reply, tossing the towel onto the workbench with deliberate nonchalance.

Ryan snorts, leaning against the bench with a knowing smirk. “Oh, come on. You change girlfriends faster than the weather, man. Before Bon, I envied how you could walk into a room, flash a smile, and have every woman in there hanging on your every word. What changed? When did you decide you were done with all that?”

I roll my eyes, feigning focus on tightening a bolt. “Things change.”

Except they don’t—not really. I’m not done with anything. This thing with Emily? It has an expiration date. I’ll go back to New York, life will return to normal—casual dates, meaningless flings, no strings attached. She’ll be a memory. I’ll move on. I always do.

Everyone thinks I keep things casual because I’m some kind of player, addicted to the thrill of the chase. The truth? I have no idea how to be in a real relationship. The idea of opening up to someone, showing them the complicated parts of me—it terrifies me. Unless I can do it perfectly, without letting the bad thoughts seep in, I’d rather not try at all.

“Clearly,” Ryan says, leaning forward, studying me like I’m one of his patients. “But why Emily? Don’t get me wrong, I think she’s great. But she’s also... not your usual type. Which, for the record, is a good thing.”

I hesitate, fingers tightening around the wrench. What am I supposed to say to that? The truth is, I didn’t choose Emily.

Not that I wouldn’t choose her. Hell, if I were brave enough to actually try for something real, Emily would be at the top of the list. No, scratch that—sheisthe list.

But none of that matters, because I’m not the kind of guy who gets to keep someone like her.

“She’s…” I trail off, searching for the right words. “She’s different.”

Ryan raises an eyebrow. “Different how?”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Bon trained you well.”

He shrugs and raises his eyebrows. Looks like I won’t get out of this one. “I don’t know,” I start. “She just… gets under your skin, you know? She’s not afraid to call you out on your crap, but she also makes everything feel less… heavy. She’s beautiful, she’s smart, she’s kind, and she’s responsible. All the things that scumbag Rob took for granted. She can be funny if she wants to be, she’s brave, and she’s…” I stop, realizing how much I’ve already said.

It’s silent. And when I look at Ryan, he’s looking at me like he doesn’t know me. “Wow,” he says. “That’s sappy as hell. I’m so proud of you.”

I scoff, turning back to the car to avoid his smug expression. “What do you mean?”

Ryan crosses his arms, the corners of his mouth curling in amusement. “I always thought you were the ‘don’t-give-a-damn’ type, a guy who’d walk into a room, crack a joke, and leave everyone thinking you couldn’t care less. But here you are, rambling about Emily like some lovesick teenager. Seriously. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

I chuckle at Ryan, but I don’t say what’s really on my mind. Everything I said about Emily is true. She’s amazing. But I can’t be in a relationship with her. Aside from the fact that she doesn’t want it too, relationships, real ones, are messy. People get hurt. Feelings get tangled. Like I said, I’m not cut out for that.

“Neither did I,” I mumble.

Ryan stays for a while, and we talk about his impending fate of being my brother-in-law. He seems to really be excited about it. For a moment, I’m jealous. It must feel nice, to have someone you want to keep around, and have the courage to actually do it.

For the rest of the day, I keep busy. I patch the leak in the guest bedroom. Fix the door jamb. Clear the gutters. I throw myself into the repairs, working until my muscles ache and my mind is blessedly blank.

I don’t let myself think about Emily—her smile, her laugh, the way she looks at me like she sees straight through the walls I’ve spent years perfecting.

By the time she gets back, I’ll be fine. Cool, collected, and completely unaffected. Back to normal.

I’m almost finished with the repairs, so I go inside the house to cool down and watch some TV. But as I arrive at the living room, I see my parents. They’re watching a movie, while cuddling on the sofa. This feels wrong on so many levels.

“Hey, Josh!” my mom says brightly, glancing over at me. “Wanna join us? The movie just started.” She gestures toward the screen like she’s trying to sell me on the idea.

I shake my head quickly, almost too quickly. “Nah. I’ve got stuff to finish. Thanks, though.” I retreat a step, but not before their laughter fills the room—soft, easy, like it’s always been this way.

It’s not right.

I linger near the doorway, pretending to adjust my watch. Something about the scene feels off, like an ill-fitting puzzle piece forced into place. They’re so… nice to each other. It’s unnatural.

---