Page 82 of Wilder Puck
Chapter 25
My heart leaps into my throat as I stare down at the caller ID on Ryan's phone screen. Hank Shoemaker. My landlord. Or former landlord, I guess, since I'm currently standing in the bedroom I now share with Ryan, surrounded by piles of our clean laundry mixed together.
Ryan is frozen in the doorway, his expression a mixture of guilt and panic. I finish folding the pair of jeans in my hands, placing them on the bed as I try to calm the frantic galloping in my chest.
“Ryan,” I say sharply, needing him to snap out of whatever silent spell he's under. “What's going on?”
He opens his mouth, then closes it again. Finally, he manages, “I wanted to tell you before, Ads. I swear I did. But I just couldn't find the words.”
Dread curdles in my stomach. “Tell me what, exactly?”
The call ends, leaving us in ringing silence. Ryan runs a hand through his hair, his eyes pleading.
“I did it because I care about you, Addison.”
I hold up a hand, cutting him off as the pieces start clicking into place. “Wait. Are you seriously telling me that you're the reason my rent didn't go up? That's why my landlord suddenly had a change of heart?”
He nods miserably and I scoff, anger and disbelief making me shiver.
“I knew it. I knew something was off about that whole situation. But how do you even know Hank? What, did you just go behind my back and–”
“I did some digging,” Ryan admits, his shoulders slumping. “Called in a few favors. I couldn't just sit back and watch you lose everything you've worked so hard for.”
Red bleeds into the edges of my vision. “So, instead, you went sneaking around, lying to my face? Manipulating my life? Jesus Christ, Ryan!”
“Addie, please. I know I fucked up. I know I should've told you, but I was just trying to help.”
“Help?” I repeat. “Is that what you call it? Because from where I'm standing, it looks a whole hell of a lot like a violation of trust. I told you, Ibeggedyou, to keep your money out of my business. And you just–what–ignored that? It’s uncalled for.”
Tears burn hot behind my eyes, but I blink them back furiously. I will not cry. Not now. I cannot let my anger turn into tears.
“And to think, I was beating myself up for not being able to make it to your games because of my job. But that's what you wanted all along, isn't it? For me to quit so I could be at your beck and call, cheering you on like a good little best friend?”
“No!” he bursts out, taking a step toward me. I flinch back instinctively, and he freezes. “Addison, I swear that's not what this was about. I just wanted to make your life a little easier. I wanted to take care of you.”
I shake my head, a bitter laugh escaping my throat. “Take care of me? Ryan, I'm not a child. I'm not some damsel in distress who needs a big strong man to swoop in and solve all her problems. I thought you of all people understood that. Like it’s literally why we’re friends in the first place.”
“I do, Ads. Fuck. I do understand that, I promise. I just – I couldn't stand seeing you run yourself into the ground. You're so damn stubborn and independent and I love that about you, I really do. But sometimes you don’t have to do it all alone. I have all this money sitting in my bank account, and I couldn’t sit back and watch you stress and struggle. Is that so wrong?”
I close my eyes briefly, my head spinning. I don't know what to think, what to feel. Everything I thought I knew feels like it's been tilted on its axis.
When I open them again, Ryan is watching me. It looks like it's taking everything in him not to reach for me.
“I need space. I can't do this right now,” I mutter. “I have to get out of here.”
Panic flashes across his face and he moves to block my path. “Addie, wait. Please don't leave. Not like this. Just let me explain.”
“Explain what, Ryan?” I ask. “How you deliberately went behind my back and lied to me for months? How you are the reason I even got evicted so, what? So, I'd have no choice but to move in with you?”
The words taste like poison on my tongue, but I can't seem to stop them. Every fear, every insecurity I've ever had about our relationship is bubbling to the surface, acidic and unavoidable.
“Did you cook up this whole fake dating scheme too? Was that just a ploy to get me to see you as more? What's next, Ryan? Are you going to loosen the bolts on my tires so I can’t drive away?”
“Whoa, hey, no!” He looks absolutely horrified. “Addison, I would never... that's not... youknowme. You know that's not what this is.”
A tiny, rational part of me knows he's right. Knows that Ryan, my Ryan, would sooner cut off his own arm than ever hurt me. But I never would have thought he would do anything like this either.
“I need a minute to process all of this,” I whisper, hating the way my voice cracks. “I can’t be here.”
