I blamed it on the night.
The way everything seemed to become compressed.
Dense and thick.
I forced a tease onto my lips. “Ah, I’m pretty sure it’s not always open to me, Ryder. You wouldn’t want me waltzing in here when you are entertaining, now would you?”
I put as much razzing suggestion into it as I could.
As if it didn’t matter.
Like I was just another one of the guys giving him crap for being a player.
“Now get out of my way, this girl needs to pee.” I nudged him in the chest.
I swore my fingertips sparked.
He angled an inch to the side, like I was going to fit through the tiny spot left between him and the doorjamb.
Hardly.
“Ryder.” Exasperation filled my tone as I hissed low, “Get out of the way before I pee my pants.”
He did, stepping farther to the left, only he took me by the elbow when I went to step by him, and he pressed me to the door. Caught off guard, my back flattened against the wood, mouth gaping at whatever he thought he was doing.
He loomed over me, illuminated in the light but still dark as midnight.
My breaths went short. Shaky and confused. The desire I shouldn’t feel had to be palpable in the fraction of space separating us.
Eyes ablaze, his head cocked to the side, and he continued to hold onto my elbow like I might suddenly disappear. “You think any of those women could ever be more important than you?”
My chest nearly caved with all the times he’d hurt me doing just that.
A sharp blade dragged across my flesh every time we’d been at a bar, and he’d walked out with someone else.
“More than that, you think I’ve ever brought one of them here?”
A scoff quivered free. “I might not know where you spend your time, Ryder, but I know how you spend it.”
There was no keeping the hurt out of it.
No faking it.
A thundercloud cracked through his expression.
Shame and regret.
Tears stung at the back of my eyes, and I turned my head away, dipping my chin in embarrassment.
God, the last thing I wanted was for him to feel sorry for me.
With his free hand, he reached out and forced me to look at him. “But that time isn’t important, Dakota. It’s wasted. Squandered. Told you before, if you need me, I’m there. It doesn’t matter what I’m doing. I would never forget you. Do you understand?”
Meet me in the place of the forgotten.
I gulped, and I could barely nod.
“Good.” He grunted it right before he turned and walked out without saying anything else.
He left me there, half pinned to the door and trying not to drop to my knees.
Wondering what the hell had just happened.
ELEVEN
DAKOTA
EIGHT YEARS OLD
Dakota moved down the narrow aisle, trying to pretend like she didn’t hear the snickering coming from the few kids who remained on the bus. With every step she took, her backpack swished on her back, hitting the sides of the seat, only making the kids snicker more.
Tears burned at her eyes, and her throat tingled, and as hard as she fought to hold them back, one had already gotten free by the time she made it up to the bus driver.
Ms. Sally smiled at her, though there was a bit of a frown on her face.
“Are you okay?”
Dakota nodded quickly, trying to swallow the ugly feeling, to keep it hidden when it felt so big and yucky it fought to burst out.
Ms. Sally’s worry deepened, though she just angled her head and said, “All right. You take care of yourself, Dakota. Tell your mom I said hi.”
Dakota could hardly nod again as she scrambled down the steps as fast as she could. The soles of her tennis shoes hit the gravelly pavement, and they thudded hard beneath her as she made a beeline in the direction of her house without fully running.
If they saw her running, they’d know why.
The loud engine of the bus churned, and the axles squeaked as it began to roll up the road. The second it disappeared over the hump up ahead, she started to run.
This was just as the full impact of her tears began to fall.
She looked at the door of her house, and she knew it’d be safe inside, that her mom would take her in her arms and hug her tight, but there was something that wouldn’t let her do that. She didn’t want her mom looking at her that way.
With that sadness that swam in her eyes and the way her voice always shook when she promised, It will be okay. Kids at school can be really mean. They don’t know what they are talking about, and you can’t let them get to you. Not when you’re so wonderful.