Page 13 of Nailed (Dad Bod Contracting 3)
“Amy was the same way,” Ryder says. “On a depressive cycle, she was the neediest person alive. I couldn’t keep up—honestly that’s hard to admit, as a man, but it’s just the truth. She…needed me more frequently and more intensely than I was capable of sustaining. I mean, sex four times a day every day for a month straight sounds like fun, especially when you’re in the middle of a dry spell, but the reality is…”
“Exhausting? Mentally, emotionally, and physically draining?” I suggest.
He nods, looking grateful that I understand. “Exactly. I’m totally capable of keeping up with that for a week, two weeks, but after three weeks I start to need some breaks, and maybe some snacks.”
“So, you’re not an inexhaustible sex machine?” I joke.
“I’d rather you know the truth now than find out later,” he says, going with it. “I’d hate to disappoint you.”
“All joking aside, I get it.” I find myself unable to look him in the eye as I say this. “Paul was the same way. And…I always thought I revved pretty high in the libido department. To be honest—I always struggled with feeling like my previous boyfriends didn’t want me as much as I wanted them so, at first, Paul needing me like that was refreshing. But when it turned into weeks and months of him wanting sex two, three, four times a day, I just…I got burned out. But if I turned him down, it would…” I trailed off.
“Make the depression and anger even more vicious?” Ryder suggests. “Turn it on you. Make it your fault.”
“Exactly.”
Our eyes meet, understanding and empathy shuttling between us.
I smile. “I honestly never thought I’d meet anyone who would actually be able to understand the whole thing.”
Ryder laughs. “You didn’t?”
I wince. “Good point.” Another silence, this one less amicable and more awkward, more tense. “So. Now what?”
Ryder looks away. “Honestly, I don’t know if us sharing the whole bipolar ex thing makes me feel any better.”
I frown. “It doesn’t?”
He shakes his head. “The problem I’m having isn’t that I don’t like you or that I’m not attracted to you—the problem is, I didn’t need another reason to feel even more connected to you.”
I sigh slowly, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Ahhhh. So you’re like Audra.”
He blinks. “What? How do you mean?”
“Allergic to anything resembling a serious relationship.”
He scratches his fingers through his thick red beard. “Oh. I don’t know about allergic, but it’s definitely something I’ve avoided since Amy.”
“Which is why you only sleep with the crazy chicks?”
He chuckles. “I don’t only sleep with crazy chicks. It’s just what I seem to gravitate to, for whatever reason.”
I arch an eyebrow at him. “You can’t really be that lacking in self-awareness, can you?”
He’s silent a moment. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning you absolutely do sleep with crazy chicks by intentional design. They’re safe. A crazy chick burned you, broke your heart, shattered your ability to trust, and left you broke. Therefore, by sleeping with the crazies, you’re certain to be safe from falling in love again, because there’s no way in blue hell you’d fall in love with another one.”
He rocks back in the booth, staring at me through narrowed eyes, his jaw grinding. “You don’t play fair.”
I shrug. “I’m way past the point in my life where I’m gonna play games or mince words, Ryder.”
“I see that.”
“I’m not crazy, and you know it. I’m a risk—that’s why I scare you.”
He leans forward, eyes blazing. “I’m not scared of you, Laurel.”
I smirk. “Oh yes, you are. Have the balls to admit it, Ryder.”
Ryder’s hazel eyes crackle and spit sparks. “It’s not fear. Risk-aversion isn’t fear. Risk-aversion is prudence, and that’s it.”
I have to laugh at that. “Oh, that’s rich! Risk-aversion is prudence? You’re delusional.”
He frowns, truly upset, now. “Oh, and you’re not?”
“Risk-averse? Yes. Delusional? No.” I tap the table. “I fully admit my choice in men since Paul and I divorced has been less than stellar. Honestly, my choice in men my whole life has been abysmal. I know that about myself. That’s why I’m afraid to let myself really, truly like you—that’s why I went out of my way to find reasons not to like you. The answer to your initial question, by the way, is that I asked Audra, Imogen, and Nova for things about you that would make me like you less. I’m worried you’re harboring some inner asshole-ness that I’m not seeing. I didn’t see Paul clearly until it was too late. Like Amy, there are resources available to him to help manage his bipolarism, but he chooses not to use them—he refused to see anyone, refused to take medication no matter how I begged him. We both know using the term ‘crazy’ is unkind and unfair, and that what our respective exes suffered were illnesses they couldn’t control. But if Paul had been willing to try to manage his illness in a healthy and constructive way, it probably would have worked between us. He had moments where he could be wonderful—especially where Nate was concerned.”
