Page 28 of Ryder
“Yeah.” His thumb brushes my cheek, and it takes everything in me not to lean into his touch. “I know.”
He kisses me goodbye, sweet and slow, like he has all the time in the world. Like this means something. Like I mean something.
But as I watch him walk back to the main house through the gathering dark, I make myself remember:
This is just fun. Uncomplicated. Casual.
And I have a plane ticket to book.
Chapter 12
Ryder
Something is wrong.
Dana has been distant all morning, dodging my kisses and making excuses about competition prep. Now she’s methodically packing equipment into boxes, her movements precise in a way that makes my chest tight.
“Sugar?” I step into the kitchen, hating how she tenses at my voice. “Talk to me.”
“Nothing to talk about.” She doesn’t look up from her task. “Just getting organized for the trip.”
“For a few days?” I gesture at the boxes. “Looks more like you’re...”
“What?” Now she does look at me, and the carefully blank expression hurts worse than anger would have. “Moving out? Isn’t that better? Keeping things uncomplicated?”
Ice slides down my spine. “What are you talking about?”
“I heard you. With Jake.” Her voice is too calm, too controlled. “About how this is just fun. Nothing serious.”
Shit.
“Dana—”
“It’s fine.” But her hands shake as she folds a towel. “You were clear from the start, right? Your dating history, your... arrangements. I just forgot for a minute.”
“That’s not—”
“I got the official audition details this morning.” She cuts me off again, still in that terrible calm voice. “If I make it ontothe show, they’re offering a six-month contract. Plus potential permanent position with their test kitchen in New York.”
The room tilts sideways. Six months. New York. Permanent.
“You’re leaving?” My voice comes out rough.
“Isn’t that better?” She finally meets my eyes, and the hurt there guts me. “Before this gets complicated?”
Everything I’ve been afraid of, everything I’ve been trying to protect myself from, crashes down at once. Because watching her pack, watching her pull away, is worse than any pain Sarah ever caused.
“I lied.” The words burst out before I can stop them.
She stills. “What?”
“To Jake. To myself.” I step closer, relief flooding through me when she doesn’t back away. “This was never uncomplicated. Never just fun.”
“Ryder—”
“I’m in love with you.”
The box she’s holding hits the counter with a thud. “You... what?”
