#likelukeandleia
WHEN I OPEN my front door and see Ryan standing there in black shorts, a gray “Oakhurst Football” T-shirt spanning his broad chest, his dark hair damp from a shower, it’s definitely awkward.
In a way, it’s like I’m seeing him for the first time. The tattoos he’s had on one arm since right after he finished college seem different somehow. The dark stubble on his face doesn’t make me react the same way as it would on my brother’s face this time. My insides are a melted mess, and the intense look he’s giving me only makes it worse.
“Can I come in, Pup?”
I force my mouth to close and give him a smile. “Yeah . . . sorry.”
He walks in and sets his toolbox next to my door, looking at the doorframe in silent, Ryan-like fashion. He’s always been the sort who doesn’t talk just to fill space. If Ryan speaks, it’s because he has something important to say.
But RoughRider liked to chat, even about small, insignificant stuff. It strikes me yet again how different the two personas seem. Maybe I don’t really know either of them. Or maybe I have to know both to know the whole man.
Do I want to know the whole man, though? Really know him, inside and out? What turns him on and sets him off? Before meeting RoughRider, I would have said no. But now . . . I’m not sure.
I sit down on the couch and grab a magazine, not really reading it but wanting to look busy. This is beyond awkward for me. I’m picturing Ryan sitting in his bed as I sat in mine, messaging me about the dirty things he wants to do to me.
I’d kiss you until your lips were tingling and your chest was rising and falling as you panted my name.
I know of some great ways to work out stress before bed.
You’d clench around me really tight and I’d feel you start to spasm.
My cheeks burn with embarrassment at the memories. At least, I think it’s embarrassment.
It’s at least forty percent embarrassment. And I’m not ready to admit the other sixty percent of the reason I’m warm right now.
This is Ryan Lennox. Coop’s best friend. I was arriving home with my mom when she busted the two of them sneaking girls out of our basement when they were sophomores in high school. They both had messed-up hair and nervous smiles, the smells of Axe body spray and guilt rolling off of them.
Ryan witnessed my humiliation when I tried to leave the house in sixth grade wearing a white T-shirt and a black bra. He and Coop had snickered when my mom insisted I change into the training bra she’d gotten me.
I hated that term then, and I hate it still. What sort of training do breasts need, anyway? I’m pretty sure my disdain for the term stems from that day my mom threw it around in front of my older brother and his friend with no regard for my pubescent embarrassment.
“Why are you reading my Junior Woodsman magazine?” Jack demands, entering the living room with a skeptical look my way.
“I . . . uh . . .” I glance down at the magazine I absently grabbed and sigh through my nose. “I like foxes. I thought this article sounded good.”
I chance a glance at Ryan and swear I see a hint of a smile tugging on the corners of his lips.
“Who’s he?” Jack frowns in Ryan’s direction.
I stand up and put the magazine back on the table. “Have you guys never met?”
Ryan looks up from his toolbox. “We met at your parents’ house one year at Christmas, but Jack was just a little guy then.” He stands up and extends a hand to Jack. “You probably don’t remember me. I’m Ryan.”
“Hi,” Jack says solemnly, putting his hand in Ryan’s.
Ryan smiles down at him. “Not bad, but try again and grip my hand tighter this time. Like this.”
They shake hands again, and then Jack furrows his brow and squeezes Ryan’s hand in a tighter grip.
“Nice.” Ryan gives him an approving smile. “That’s a man’s handshake right there.”
Jack’s expression lights up. “What are you doing to the door?”
“I’m gonna put in some deadbolt locks. I have to drill into the frame and the door.”
Jack nods his approval. “I know how to use a hammer if you need help.”
“Yeah? I could use some help, actually.”
Ryan explains every tool to Jack and shows him how to use each one. He corrects him gently and praises him liberally. Jack has trouble grasping the small pieces Ryan passes him, and he drops them often. He can’t help it—the loss of motor skills is part of the disease that’s going to take him from us one day. But Ryan takes it in stride, telling Jack it’s okay every time he gets frustrated because he let something else fall to the floor.
Carmen is leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen, watching them, tears shining in her eyes. I hope they’re happy tears over Jack’s excitement, but I know how hard it is for her to watch his disease slowly steal away his ability to do things.
Jack doesn’t remember his dad, and he doesn’t have many male role models. Carmen has told me before that he asks her why his dad isn’t around, and it breaks her heart every time. No matter how many times she tells him it’s not his fault, he doesn’t seem to buy it.
“If he loves me, why doesn’t he want to see me?”
When Carmen told me Jack said that to her one night as she was tucking him in for bed, she cried and then I did too. She’s an amazing mother to Jack, but she can’t be a father to him too, no matter how much she tries.
She considered telling him his dad passed away, so at least Jack wouldn’t know his dad is alive and well but doesn’t care about seeing him, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie to him.
It takes Ryan at least twice as long to install the front door deadbolt with Jack’s help than it would have taken alone. Carmen starts dinner as they move on to the back door, and I pace around the living room by myself.
RoughRider is in my house right now. Specifically, he’s in my kitchen, teaching Jack how to use a drill. I don’t know if that’s crazier than the fact that he’s actually Ryan. It all seems kind of crazy right now.
Ryan is a good man. He’s patient but firm, and he was made to be a teacher and a coach. I’ve always known that side of him. He played football in high school and college, and he never messed around with any behaviors that could get him kicked out of the sport he loves. He’s like a brother to Coop—always there, for fun times and tough ones.
I never thought I’d know this other side of Ryan. His RoughRider side is brooding yet sweet, impatient at times yet . . . willing to go without women if he can’t have the one he wants. And I still can’t believe that’s me.
I didn’t think about who I really am until Ryan asked me as RoughRider. I’m realizing I also never thought about what I really want in a man before him. I spent so much time focusing on what I didn’t want and founding Alpha Mail based on those things, that what I do want didn’t seem important.
Realizing what I don’t want in a man and opening a business because of it changed my life. But pacing in my living room, I consider for the first time that getting in touch with what I do want in a man could change my life even more.
I stop walking and take a deep breath, then walk into the kitchen, talking before Ryan even has a chance to realize I’m there.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why did you keep this to yourself for . . . a decade?”
He looks up from his crouched position next to the doorframe. “You want to talk about this now?”
His tone is surprised, but level. That’s Ryan. Always calm, cool, and collected, even when I’m feeling a little unhinged.
“Why not?” I throw my hands in the air.
The hint of a smile comes back as he takes a part to the deadbolt that Jack was holding for him.
“I didn’t tell you because I knew you didn’t feel that way for me.” Ryan looks at the piece he’s drilling rather than at me, the patience in his tone grating on my nerves.
“How did you know that? Why did you think you were better at knowing how I feel than I am?”
“I was right, wasn’t I?”
“Well . . .” I fold my arms and consider. “Now that we’re twenty-eight and thirty-two, yeah, but . . . maybe if you had said something back then . . .”
“I didn’t know for sure what I was feeling. I wasn’t sure if it was just attraction or . . . love.”
Jack inhales sharply. “Love? You love her?”
Ryan nods. “I do.”
“You guys are like Princess Leia and Han Solo.” Jack looks back and forth between us and grins.
“For her, it’s more like Leia and Luke Skywalker,” Ryan says.
Jack gives me a dirty look. “What?”
I throw my hands up in frustration. “I don’t even know what that means!”
“He’s not your brother.” Jack shakes his head and then turns to Ryan. “Are you?”
“No,” Ryan says it emphatically. “I’m definitely not.”
Carmen intervenes. “Jack, let’s run to the store and pick up some ice cream.”
“But I’m helping!”
“Well . . .” She looks from Ryan to me. “Maybe Ryan wouldn’t mind taking a break until we get back?”
Ryan stands. “Sure, I can do that.”
Jack looks up at him. “You promise not to work on it until I get back?”
“Promise.”
Carmen grabs her purse and keys, husting Jack out of the house. And now that we have privacy, Ryan and I just stare at each other across the room in silence.
“Tell me what’s really on your mind, Sienna,” Ryan says.
I furrow my brow and run a hand through my hair. “Everything’s different now. You’ve never called me Sienna.”
“You want me to keep calling you Pup?” He gives me an amused grin.
“I don’t know.” I sigh heavily and sit down on a kitchen chair.
“Hey,” he says softly. “It’s gonna take some time for things to be like they used to be between us. But we’ll get there.”
His eyes are a dark caramel shade. Why have I never noticed that before? They’re warm and intense at the same time.
“I wish . . .” I bury my face in my hands. “I’m just not there in my life right now. I’m so focused on my business, and I don’t even know what I want in a man. I just realized a few minutes ago that I’ve never really thought about what I want, because I’ve been so busy not wanting anyone.”
“And that’s okay. You don’t have to have all the answers right now. You’re young, and your business is booming. Just take it easy on that part of your life.”
“Who are you?” My voice is louder than intended. “One minute, you’re in love with me, and the next, you’re offering me indifferent, brotherly advice.”
“I am in love with you, but I know it’s one-sided. Look . . .” He rests his hands on his hips and looks from the floor to the ceiling before leveling his gaze at me. “It’s my fault you’re confused about all this. I’m not waiting or anything, so don’t think that. I don’t want you to offer me a mercy date. I’d turn you down if you did. My feelings for you would always be stronger than yours for me. I think it’s better for me never to have you at all than to have you in a halfhearted way.”
I open my mouth to speak, close it, then try again. “So you’re saying you love me, but you don’t want me?”
“Pretty much. I won’t be with a woman who isn’t all in, and you’d never be all in with me. I think seeing your disappointment that day in your office when you realized it was me, and hearing you say you don’t share my feelings was actually . . . good for me. I can move on now.”
“You can move on.” Dazed, I shake my head and stand up.
“We both can. I know this whole thing threw you for a loop, and I’ve apologized for it. I don’t know what else to do.”
I’m hurt. Irrationally, deeply, foolishly hurt. I don’t want him to see the tears in my eyes, so I just turn and leave the room, not stopping until I’m upstairs curled up on my bed.
I cry. Because I’m confused, because I hurt Ryan, because he unknowingly hurt me back. I even cry for the loss of RoughRider, even though he’s not really gone. What I really want right now is to message him and have an IM date. It’s ironic that he’s right downstairs and I’ve never felt so far away from him.
An IM date isn’t happening, though. It’ll never happen again. What the hell . . . I cry over that too.
When Carmen walks into the room later, I only recognize her outline by the glow of the hallway light.
“Hey.” I sit up, my mouth dry and my eyes sore from crying.
“Hey.” She sits down on the end of my bed.
“I must have fallen asleep. What time is it?” I sit up and switch on the lamp beside my bed.
“Nine-thirty.”
“Oh, wow. Is Ryan still here?”
“He left around nine. And he let Jack keep his tape measure.” She smiles.
I close my eyes, our earlier conversation coming back in a flood.
“Want to talk about it?” Carmen asks.
“I just don’t know how to be with him anymore. I don’t know how to even think about him. It was one thing when I didn’t have to see him or talk to him, but—”
She cuts me off. “Do you really not see how amazing he is?”
“No . . . I mean, yes. I know he’s great.”
“He’s more than great. And he’s in love with you. So give him a chance, Sienna.”
I sigh heavily. “That’s just not how I see him.”
“Open your eyes, then. Stop being so stubborn.”
“You don’t even know Ryan. You saw him with Jack tonight, and now you think I should date him?”
She narrows her eyes slightly. “When you told me he was your secret admirer, I didn’t even remember seeing him at your parents’ house several years ago. I trusted you to judge whether he’s right for you or not.”
“And what? You don’t now?” I give her an incredulous look.
“No. Not after seeing the two of you together.”
“So since we make a cute couple, I should be with him?”
“No, dumbass. Because I’ve never seen you like that over any man.”
“Like what? Confused?”
“Emotionally invested.”
I roll my eyes. “Carmen. Of course, I’m emotionally invested. I’ve known Ryan most of my life. This whole situation is . . . sticky. Not just because of me and him, but also my brother.”
“Yeah, not buying it.”
“Not buying what?”
She holds up a hand. “Not so loud, you’ll wake up Jack.”
“Sorry.”
“So tell me what happened after Jack and I escaped the kitchen full of pent-up feelings.”
I glare at her. “Nothing much. I told him I’m confused and I don’t know what I want, and he . . . pretty much told me not to want him.”
“What?” Carmen gives me a skeptical look.
“He said he’d turn me down if I wanted to go out with him.” I rub a loose thread from my comforter between my thumb and forefinger, looking at it to avoid Carmen’s perceptive gaze. “Because he knows I’d never be all in, and he wouldn’t want me if it was halfhearted.”
“Well, I can understand that, actually.”
“He’s over it.” I shrug. “So that’s that.”
“Are you over it?”
“Pretty much.”
Carmen scoffs. “You lying sack of shit. Why do you even bother trying to lie to me? I know you too well for that.”
“I’m not lying. Getting completely over it will take time.” I look up at her.
“Right. That’s why your eyes are swollen and red. Because you’re so getting over it.”
I feel a flare of aggravation. “Like I said, it takes time.”
“No, Sienna. With time, your feelings will get easier to ignore. You’ll bury yourself in work and Jack, and eventually, you’ll be in your thirties. Then you’ll keep ignoring your feelings and tell yourself you’re just a modern, independent woman until one day, he marries someone else. And then you’ll come crying to me about how stupid you were, but it’ll be too late.”
I just look at her, taken aback not just by what she said, but the anger I hear in her tone.
“I love you, but sometimes you just don’t get it.” She continues. “Some people live their whole lives without someone looking at them like he looks at you. The way you came storming into the kitchen, and the way he took it all in stride, not blinking an eye when he said he loves you in front of two people he doesn’t even know . . . He’s sweet and honest and strong—and ridiculously hot.”
I’m about to respond when Carmen silences me with her pointed finger. “Do not make some stupid crack about how I should date him if I think he’s so great. I’m serious.”
It’s kind of scary how well she knows me. My shoulders sink as I say, “I know.”
“I don’t care what he said after we left, he is in love with you. Crazy, stupid love. You better think long and hard about whether you want to let go of that so easily.”
“I do feel something,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper as I stare at the loose thread on the comforter again. “But I don’t know if it’s enough. I don’t know if I have it in me to feel that crazy, stupid love for any man. I’ve been dumped on and disappointed so many times.”
“I know.” Carmen’s tone is sympathetic now. “But not by him.”
“He wants me to love him back with everything he feels for me, and . . . that would take time for me. Ryan wants all or nothing.”
She sighs softly. “That’s a lot to ask, you’re right. But think about it. That’s all I’m saying.”
When she approaches to hug me, I close my eyes and take comfort in her embrace. Carmen is my rock in so many ways, and I’m hers. I’ve never even considered letting a man audition for that role.
Maybe I need to.