They lazed in bed for a while longer, Ben absently playing with Ryan’s hair as she rested her head on his chest, her fingers stroking his chest hair. Ryan couldn’t quite get over how right it felt to be there with Ben. It was as if all the irritation that had been sparking between them for the past few days dissolved and left complete contentment in its place.

Why Ryan couldn’t leave well enough alone and continue to enjoy the moment—who knew. Certainly not her. “I lied earlier.”

Ben shifted under her. “About what?”

“About the hockey thing. What I said was kind of mean, and it wasn’t the complete truth. Don’t get me wrong—watching old hockey games and sitting around talking about the rules with you is pretty brutal—”

“Can we get to the part where you lied?” Ben interrupted, his voice an odd mix of amusement and annoyance.

Tucking in more tightly to him, Ryan wrapped her arm across his stomach. “I do like watching you play hockey.”

Ben tightened his arm around her in return. “Really?” He sounded surprised and more than a little pleased.

It made Ryan feel like an asshole for being so harsh to him earlier. “Yeah. I don’t know if it’s because I’m more invested in you winning, or because you’re all big and alpha when you’re out there. Maybe it’s both.”

As he pressed a kiss to her forehead, Ryan could feel his smile against her skin. “That’s nice to hear.”

As they settled back into silence, Ryan felt . . . unsettled. The moment they were having was pure and perfect, but the entire reason for her being there was a lie. She felt it taint the air around them, spreading like a cancer until she had to come clean about something, anything to make things a little more honest and real. “I also lied about why I didn’t ever want you to drop me off at my house.”

Ben tilted his head so his cheek was touching the top of her head, but he didn’t speak.

“I was embarrassed for you to see it. I was staying in my friend’s apartment in a pretty rundown section of the city. I didn’t want you to think I was trashy or something.”

“Did I ever make you feel like I’d react that way?” Ben didn’t sound offended, but rather like he genuinely wanted to know.

“No. But the first time you offered, we’d just met and I didn’t want to make a bad impression.”

“What about all the times after that?”

Ryan shrugged the shoulder she wasn’t lying on. “I guess I figured, why chance it.” She sighed, wanting to explain more but unsure of how far to go. She didn’t want Ben to pity her. But ultimately, it was hard to know a person when you had no idea where they’d come from. And even though she knew it was probably a bad idea, she wanted Ben to know her. Or as much as he could know without firing her on the spot. “I’ve told you a little about my parents. We never had much money and were judged for it more often than not. The sins of the father and all that. Though in my case, it was the sins of my mother. We were from a small town, and she was a known drug user. People made assumptions about me because of who she was.”

Ben kissed her head again. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

He didn’t say it like he pitied her or like she was damaged. It was a simple utterance of fact: It had happened, and he was sorry that it had.

“It wasn’t all bad. We lived with my grandparents, and they were good people. I mean, my mom had pretty much run them into the ground between stealing from them and then sucking them dry to pay for rehabs, but they loved me and that was enough. They lived in a good neighborhood and I always felt safe with them.”

It had been more than enough actually. Ryan had never even realized she was poor until one day a classmate called her “poor white trash” on the playground. She hadn’t known what it meant at the time, but it hadn’t been all that difficult to figure out.

“Do you see them often?”

It was a simple question with an answer that was difficult to answer. Ryan cleared her throat. “My grandmother died ten years ago, my grandfather followed six months later.”

“So you were what, sixteen?”

“Yeah.”

“Who did you stay with after that?”

Ryan swallowed thickly around the lump in her throat. “No one. Well, technically my mom had custody of me, but she didn’t stick around long.”

“She just left you?” The disbelief in Ben’s voice spoke volumes. His childhood had clearly been much more gilded than her own.

“I kicked her out, actually. My grandparents were always pretty weak when it came to my mom, but there was one rule they stuck to and never wavered on. My mom was not to bring drugs in the house or around me. When they died, she thought she could do whatever she wanted, but there was no way I was going to let her disrespect their memory that way. So whatever she brought in, I either flushed, buried, or ruined somehow.” Ryan gave herself a second, letting her head rise and fall to the rhythmic cadence of Ben’s breathing. “Eventually, she and I had it out one last time. She turned physical, we fought, I won and told her to get the hell out and never come back. That was the first time she ever listened to me.” Ryan laughed, but it was a brittle, hollow sound. She hated dredging all of this up—hated how much her mother could still hurt her almost ten years later.

“Jesus,” Ben muttered. He rolled so he was facing her and her head rested on his arm. “Who took care of you after that?”

“Nobody,” Ryan said simply. “My grandparents had owned the house outright at one point, but somewhere along the way they took a second mortgage out on it. There was no way I could afford to stay. Not to mention the fact that Child Services caught wind that I was there alone. So I packed up my stuff, chose a city, got on a bus, and ended up in Philly.”

“Why here?”

Ryan smiled. “Why not here?”

Ben released a long, slow exhale as he watched her as if memorizing every detail of her face. And for the first time in a long time, she let herself be vulnerable. Let him see all the cracks in her veneer.

“I don’t know what to say,” Ben finally said.

“There’s nothing to say. I told you I adapted well. There have been ups and downs: times when life was really good and other times when I was struggling to stay off the street.” Like now, she refrained from adding. “But I never did anything illegal and I’ve never compromised who I was as a person. For me, that’s a win.”

Bringing a hand up to her cheek and caressing her skin lightly, Ben said, “You’re amazing.”

Ryan let her smile suffice as a reply. It was nice to hear, even if she wasn’t sure it was true.

* * *

Ben couldn’t believe everything Ryan had told him. She was a survivor. No wonder she’d gotten into escorting. She didn’t have a ton of nice clothes or a nice place because she’d probably had to use every cent she’d made to get her out from under the weight of her past. He had no idea how someone so genuine and funny and kind could have a history like hers. It made his issues with his family seem silly and petty. Though . . . “I haven’t been completely honest with you about why I hired you,” he said.

Ryan’s eyes had been fixated on where her fingers were tracing his abs, but her gaze jerked up to meet his when he spoke. Her eyes narrowed in what he assumed was curiosity.

Here goes nothing. “My brother’s fiancée and I dated all through high school. Natasha and I were inseparable when we were young, and started dating as soon as we were old enough to figure out what that was.” Ben chuckled a little at the memory: Twelve-year-old Natasha cornering him at recess and telling him they were boyfriend and girlfriend. He’d agreed easily, and the relationship had stuck. “We decided on different colleges, but that didn’t matter to us. We were going to make it work. Natasha ended up getting into Hudnell, and my brother was still there getting his master’s, so I asked him to look out for her.”

“Oh no,” Ryan whispered.

“Oh yes.” Ben’s jaw flexed instinctively, the story making some of the old, but not completely dormant anger he’d felt back then creep in. “He looked out for her all right. They came home for Christmas and broke the news to me.”

“What did you do?”

“Broke his jaw.”

Ryan flattened her palm on his chest and slid it around him. “Good.”

Ben laughed. “I also said . . . a lot of shit. How he was jealous of me, that all he’d ever be good for was getting my leftovers, all kinds of shit. Our relationship was already strained, but my words coupled with my hitting him broke us completely. He told me he hated me and I didn’t doubt it. Still don’t. If it weren’t for my mom insisting, not only would he not have made me best man, he probably wouldn’t have invited me at all.” Ben grunted. “Probably makes him hate me even more, if that’s possible.”

Ryan pressed a kiss to the inside of his bicep before resting her head back on it. “So why did that make you go out and find me?”

“Because I can’t let it go. It’s not the fact that they’re together. Obviously that worked out for the best. But I can’t show up to that wedding alone, or with someone I barely know, because even the thought of it makes me feel like that kid who got his girlfriend stolen by his big brother again.” Ben sighed. “I know I probably sound insecure and pathetic, but he got the girl. He can’t have my pride too.”

The truth was, Ben didn’t always feel comfortable in his own skin. His career garnered him a lot of attention, both from genuine fans of the sport and from women who were fans of his money, but Ben had never been comfortable in the spotlight. He was too reserved for it, too shy. The people in his life who were supposed to love him unconditionally for who he was didn’t even understand him—he wasn’t about to open himself up to criticism from strangers too. So he spent as much time where he was comfortable: with his best friends who knew everything about him and liked him anyway.

For a while after that, Ryan just hugged him. And he was thankful because it was exactly what he needed. Only Jace and Gabe knew his history with his brother, but that was mostly because they’d been friends when it all went down. He’d never told a single person since, but he was glad he’d shared the story with Ryan. And if he were honest with himself, it felt good to tell someone else. To lay it out there for someone he knew wouldn’t judge him. Ryan was a safe space for him—just like Jace and Gabe were.

And he swore to himself there and then that he’d be one for her too.