Page 17 of Ryder: Shadows and Desires
She smiles, her lips pale in color. Tiffany always painted them a bright red. “Yeah, we have so much to catch up on. And you have to meet my aunt! You’d like her. She’s a spitfire.”
I head over to the table, sliding into a chair as a woman in her sixties beams at me. Her salt and pepper hair is pulled back into a braid, her green irises matching her niece’s. Her elegant manner mirrors someone who has welcomed age with open arms.
“You must be Julie. My name is Dolores.”
I offer a gentle grin. “It’s nice to meet you, Dolores.”
She leans over, placing a hand on the table. “Thank you for letting me tag along. Tiff said you two haven’t chatted in a while.”
Tiffany settles into her seat. “That’s my fault, Auntie. It’s been hard. But that’s no excuse.”
“Eh, well… sometimes, it’s about making the effort rather than never reaching out at all,” Dolores counters.
I look down in contemplation, appreciating that point. Maybe her wisdom can extend to my conundrum with Ryder—my stomach flips, reminded that he’s at the bar. A waiter grabs our drinks; I absolutely go for the margarita.
When the waiter leaves, Tiffany says, “Aunt Dolores just moved here like four months ago, and we’ve been catching up ever since. She’s actually into MMA.”
“Oh, nowthere’sa sport I don’t mind watching.” Dolores chuckles as she sips on her water.
My lips curl upwards before I can stop them, facing Dolores. “Wait, are you serious?”
Dolores’s eyes twinkle. “I had a lot of spunk in my youth. My parents were hippies, you know, but I had an adrenaline junkie side to me, and so did my girlfriends. That was back when Muhammed Ali was going strong. I was, let’s see, around fifteen, then. Ah... yes, those days were something else. None of this internet or cell phones. Just your friends and some flyers... Anyways, the men were always fun to watch.” She leans in with a wink.
I tap my fingers on the wooden surface. “That’s. Awesome.”
Tiffany places her elbows on the table. “Yeah, and Julie has this really awesome fighter at the gym that Jeremy wasobsessedwith.”
“Oh, well, that’s good news,” Dolores replies in earnest.
I huff, looking to the side as I amnotin the mood to compliment Ryder right now. I have a feeling that if I utter anything other than his current regimen, he’ll glare at me from across the room.
I’d rather not anger the beast.
Idoneed him.
Tiffany counters with, “Yeah, it’s good for the gym. But he’s like this big asshole on the screen, and apparently, it’s the same in real life.”
My mind raises a flag, knowing there’s a decent guy in there, locked away like Fort Knox—the waiter breaks up my musings by placing our drinks down.
Dolores scoffs when the waiter leaves. “Well, that’s men for you. Especially in a field like that.”
While I can refrain from gossiping, it also feels strange not to mention anything. Sipping on my sweet and salty lime drink, I admit, “Okay, but seriously, he’s at the bar… Like, right atthisbar.”
“What?” Tiffany asks, her eyes shooting wide. She looks like she is about to scan the room but stops herself.
I take a deep drink, the cold slush welcome in my throat, ready for the alcohol to hit my system. “Yeah, and he and I aren’t on the best terms right now. He thinks I’m drama.”
“Girl, why?”
“He misunderstood something, which, admittedly, didn’t look that great. I overheard a private conversation, basically. And he wasnothappy. And I don’t know what to do if he sees me sitting here.”
Dolores shakes her head. “Well, you tell him you’re allowed to grab a drink wherever you want, even if it’s right next to him.”
I heave a weary sigh. “If only it were that simple.”
Dolores drinks her white wine, the glass hazed with condensation. “If he’s acting that way, I’d bet he’s putting on a show for something. I’ll never believe otherwise when someone has an attitude like that.”
The three of us sink further into conversation and theories, but we don’t linger on the topic of men for long out of respect for Tiffany, who hasn’t attempted a single date since Jeremy.
