Page 92 of Lost Boy
I push it away. Push it down deep.
Bernard starts to sputter, gobsmacked by this little whirlwind of a girl. I would be too. He has no excuses left when she pushes past him, tugging me along with Ryder following behind. I glance over at my boyfriend, his lips tight with restraint.
As soon as we’re past the entrance, Ry can’t hold it in any longer. He explodes with an obnoxiously loud laugh that has the older patrons eyeing us with disdain as they eat their Sunday lunches.
“Can you guys believe the nerve of that man? Saying that? Gah!” Her growl isn’t intimidating in the slightest; she just sounds like an angry kitten.
“Well, you put him right in his place, little sis. That shit was epic. Nearly the highlight of my day. Not quite, though.” Then he winks at me. I nearly choke on my spit and trip over my own feet, thinking about what we did earlier.
Ryder just laughs again and steadies me. With a Cruz sibling on either side of me, we go through the country club to wherever Sofie takes us.
“My favorite table is by the giant bay windows in the back. I’m seating myself after Bernard’s rude behavior,” Sofie declares with her usual tenacity. Ryder chuckles, and we follow along, clearly not wanting to get on her bad side.
The exclusive lakefront restaurant has a wall of windows, crystal clear glass stretching from floor to ceiling. The view of Acadia Lake is stunning.
Yet another place I don’t fit in. But it doesn’t really matter anymore. Ryder and Sofie are inserting me into this lifestyle whether I want it or not.
I’ve come to the conclusion that I want anything that Ryder does. And I want tobeanywhere he is.
So Acadia Lake Country Club, you better fucking get used to this hair and this face because I’m starting to realize that I really am here to stay.
* * *
“Oh. My. God. This soup! It’s so incredible. Right, Fallon? You like it, don’t you?”
I nod eagerly, taking another slurp of the warm, orange-colored soup. I can’t disappoint her even though crab is my least favorite seafood, and I don’t even fucking know what a she-crab is. It kinda freaks me out, and I’m not sure I want to know.
Ryder somehow voices my own thoughts. “Yeah. But what the fuck evenisa she-crab?”
“Don’t worry about it. Just let Fallon enjoy it. I think it’s Southern or something.” She darts her eyes to me and then back down to her bisque, taking a dainty slurp before dipping her toasted bread chip in.
That doesn’t leave me with too much confidence, but I’ve learned that sometimes it’s better not to ask questions.
“Glad I’m not eating that shit.” I give Ryder an unamused look before dipping my own cracker thing into the soup and crunching on it. “No offense,” he adds.
“Don’t listen to him, Fallon. My brother’s a hater. Just enjoy. It’s basically a delicacy.”
Ryder snorts, chomping on his burger before dipping his fries into ranch even though we’re at this fancy-ass place with linen tablecloths and napkins.
I eye his food with jealousy, way hungrier than just a bowl of this weird soup. I should have ordered something else too. I just didn’t want to run up Alejandro’s tab. I grab my Coke and slurp half of it to fill myself up more.
Ryder’s foot nudges mine from under the table, his long leg easily stretching the distance and getting my attention. He holds his burger up in silent offering, asking if I want some without voicing it out loud. I glance at Sofie. She’s busy in her own world, eating her soup, sipping her raspberry lemonade, and scrolling through Instagram. We’re sorta tucked in back here, away from everyone else, so I lean forward and open my mouth wide. Ryder’s pupils dilate, and he quickly feeds me a bite of his messy, oversized chili cheeseburger. A large plop of chili lands in the middle of the table on the stark white linen.
“I didn’t know bromances involved feeding each other. Guess you learn something new every day,” Sofie says plainly, not even looking up from her phone.
Shit.Called out.
Ryder quickly cuts a quarter of his burger and puts it on my little soup plate in a much more reasonable attempt at sharing.
“I didn’t say you had to stop. It was cute,” she says with added pep.
“Sofie. . .” Ryder warns, but we’re sort of asking for it, forgetting our surroundings like that.
“Just teasing, bro beans!” she tells Ryder, then bumps my shoulder. “Just kidding, cousin beans,” she murmurs, and I snort at her ridiculousness.
We continue eating in silence, and I also finish off Ryder’s fries.
“I want dessert,” Sofie declares. “The display case was amazing today; I don’t even know what to choose. Let’s go look again.”
