way through the rush hour crowd at the subway station, grabbing my paper bag of semi-warm focaccia close to my chest.
It had been two months since I’d met Ryland by Brooklyn Bridge, where he'd handed that precious envelope to me.
Since then, I'd gotten a part-time job waitressing at an Italian restaurant in the afternoons while I made my decision about Bramston Uni.
Ryland hadn't interfered with that.
But he tried to for just about everything else.
Less than a day after our meeting, I received an email from a landlord in Manhattan offering an apartment at an inexplicably lower rental.
No apartment in New York could be that cheap, so no prizes for guessing who was behind it.
I'd simply found another place in an area that Ryland did not own half of, and that I could afford.
Not only that, but Ryland also started showing up at the soup kitchen, even on the weeks I wasn't there.
The first Saturday when I arrived, I had been stunned to see Ryland at the back, dicing chicken breast, of all things. Jemima and Bailey had been beyond excited to see him again, and the regular guests welcomed him like he was an old friend.
And me?
I was annoyed.
“What are you doing here?” I'd demanded the moment I got him alone in the back alley.
Ryland had looked unbelievably smug while ripping apart cardboard boxes as if they were made of tissue.
“Just doing my bit for the community—” rip, “—like the good citizen I am.” Rip.
I'd scowled at him, trying to ignore the way his biceps strained under his sweater shirt with every movement. “I thought we agreed no stalking.”
“Like I said, I'm here to volunteer.” Rip. “And I wanted to make an impression on Jemmy, since you respect her.”
Jemmy?
My mouth fell open. I could just imagine Ryland buttering Jemima up, and her batting her lashes at him like she was a teenage girl.
“Whatever you're doing to her,” I hissed, “stop. I mean it.”
“Relax,” Ryland’s lips quirked. “I'll behave myself.”
“You're unbelievable,” I muttered, shoving the cardboard pieces into the dumpster with jerky movements.
“Get used to it, Allie cat. I’ll be annoying you for a long, looong time.”
Ryland's gaze remained on me the rest of that morning, but I had steadfastly ignored him, working twice as hard during the shift, then taking off the moment it ended.
The day after that, I had gotten out of the subway station nearest my apartment after my first shift at Pazzini's.
Ryland had been waiting casually outside, his arms folded as he leaned against a building.
I'd stared at him. “You gotta be kidding me.”
“You didn't take that apartment I negotiated for you,” he countered with an arched eyebrow, “and I already told you, I won't compromise on your safety. ”
I'd tossed my arm towards the sky in exasperation. “It's not even six in the evening! Nothing's going to happen!”
“I'd rather not bet your life on this shithole,” Ryland said, eyeing a crumbling, abandoned building across the street like it offended him. “C’mon. I'll walk you back.”
Then he'd strode off, leaving me to hurry after him.
Ryland had waited again the next day.
And the next.
And the one after that.
“Don't you have work to do?” I asked sullenly when I’d found him outside the station for the tenth day in a row. “Money to spin, minions to order around?”
“Work can wait,” he'd shrugged as he strolled down the sidewalk, again without seeing if I followed.
Rolling my eyes, I'd jogged after him. “Was that supposed to be sarcastic? Or did the great Ryland Wyatt just make a joke?”
“Dead serious, Allie cat. I've found something more important.”
My chest had given an odd little kick at that, but I said nothing the entire way back.
At my door, Ryland paused and looked down at me. “I made a reservation at Michelangelo's for tomorrow night. Have dinner with me?”
“Pass,” I’d said. “I'm not looking for anything more with you.”
Ryland had nodded, but his gaze remained inscrutable. “Bolt the door behind you,” he'd said, waiting until I shut the door before he left.
We formed a routine in the following weeks.
Every evening, Ryland would be waiting for me outside the subway station to walk me home. He would ask me questions, and I would grudgingly reply, aware that he was trying to draw me into conversation yet allowing it anyway. We talked about anything that happened that day, from the unreasonable customers at the restaurant to the projects Ryland was working on.
Although the walk from the subway station back to my apartment took fifteen minutes, as the weeks went by, I found myself dragging the time out in small ways.
I walked a little slower, or I stopped for hot coffee along the way. Ryland stayed by my side whenever that happened, letting me take as long as I wanted.
And when we finally got to my door, he would ask me the same question.
Would I go for dinner with him?
My answer was always the same, not because I didn't want to, but because I did.
And I knew that if I gave in, before the night was over, I would end up in Ryland’s bed again. I didn't trust myself that much.
I headed up the steps to the street as usual, clutching the paper bag closer to my chest to shield it from the biting cold.
It was two months now—sixty days of Ryland walking me home and me rejecting him when we got to my door.
When I got to the street level, I spotted Ryland immediately in his usual spot by the nearest building. He was typing on his phone with one hand and holding a cup of coffee in the other. A light snow had already begun to fall, dusting his dark hair and coat with white flecks.
“Hey,” I said when I got up to him.
“Hey.” Ryland pocketed the phone immediately and handed me the coffee. “I got it earlier, but it's still warm.”
“Thanks.” I held my paper bag out to him, and we traded items. “Leftover focaccia from my shift,” I told him. “I reheated them before I left.”
Ryland unrolled the top of the paper bag and took out a piece of bread. “They’re not poisoned or anything, right?” he asked dryly, though I could tell from the faint curve of his lips that he was secretly pleased.
I gave him a deadpan look. “Crap, you got me.”
Ryland grinned then, a lopsided quirk of his lips that nearly made me trip.
“Just eat the damn thing,” I muttered, popping the lid of my coffee.
Ryland bit and chewed, looking thoughtful. “Not bad,” he acceded.
We began the walk back to my place, me drinking the coffee he got me, him eating the bread I brought him. Snow fell about us in sporadic specks of white, melting to slush as soon as they touched the ground.
I glanced at Ryland from the corner of my eye.
Eight weeks ago, he told me he would do whatever it took to win me. And even though it was selfish, a tiny part of me couldn't help hoping that Ryland hadn't been exaggerating, that he would actually chase me for the rest of my life, if it came down to that.
But how long would he be able to keep this up? He had to get tired of it sometime.
Then what?
“The Uni open house is tomorrow,” he said as we strolled down the sidewalk. “Are you going?”
I shrugged. “I haven't decided if I'm enrolling yet.”
“If you don't like the school, we could apply for another. I just thought you'd like Bramston because your sister is there.”
“No, the school's perfect.” I wrapped my hands around the coffee cup, warming my fingers. “But I don’t think I could accept a degree paid for by someone else.”
“Let's face it. The money won't even put a dent in what I have.” Ryland raised an eyebrow. “And if you need to, you could just consider it compensation for all the shit I put you through.”
I bit my lip, tempted by that logic. “Fine,” I hedged, “but only because you owe me that much.”
Ryland gave a knowing smirk. “I knew you'd come around.”
“Don't think I don't know you're trying to manage me.”
“Nah, I just know how you're wired. You hate owing shit to people.”
Just another thing about me that Ryland had noted.
We walked in companionable silence for a while, and then I asked, “Any updates on Estelle?”
Ryland had kept his word about involving me in their fight. For the past two months, I had exchanged countless emails with him and Cam, throwing out ideas that I hoped would be useful in taking Estelle down.
But the guys had been trying to find a way out for ten years, and everything I considered, they had thought of and tried too.
It seemed like we were firmly stuck.
“Cam’s found the two bastards who shot at you.”
Or not.
My hands tightened around my coffee cup hopefully. “Please say this is good news.”
Ryland nodded once, tossing the paper bag of focaccia from hand to hand like it was a football. “They’re two mercenary brothers for hire, pretty famous around Devil’s Kitchen. Cam’s guys are working on extracting them.”
“And by extracting, you mean…”
“Capture.”
The factual way Ryland said it startled me. He looked so proper in his suit that sometimes I forgot what he and his friends were capable of.
I slid a sidelong glance at him, and found him staring at me.
“What are you looking at?” I muttered, turning to look ahead again.
“You,” he said simply. “You look good.”
“Flattery doesn’t work on me.”
It definitely did, but I wasn’t going to admit that.
“Good news on the Brooklyn project, by the way,” Ryland said, smoothly changing the subject. “We've completely transitioned to Smithson. Seems like our timeline won't be delayed that much.”
“That's great,” I exclaimed, genuinely happy for him. “You worked hard on this.”
Ryland inclined his head in acknowledgment. “We’re also making some minor adjustments to the design. It would add some time, but I think it’s worth it.”
“Really? What kind of adjustments?”
“I'll be adding a greenhouse to the highest floor.”
I halted in my step, at a loss for words.
Ryland turned around to face me, his lips curved smugly.
“A smart, gorgeous woman told me before to build a butterfly garden. So I will. There’ll be an orangery with citrus trees, plus roses, orchids, and other kinds of flowering plants.”
He’d remembered every detail.
I swallowed hard as the memories of our time there came flooding back to me.
Ryland’s smile faded when he saw my expression. “Allie?” he asked in a low voice. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said, brushing past him and making my way quickly down the sidewalk to hide my stinging nose.
We didn't speak all the way until we reached my door.
There, Ryland took my hand to stay me.
“Spend time with me tonight,” he said, looking down at me with intent blue eyes. “We don’t have to go out for dinner if you don’t want to. We can stay in and watch a movie, or you can read and I’ll do my work beside you—”
I shook my head. “I don't think it's a good idea.”
Ryland watched me for a long moment before he looked away and nodded once. “Then I'll see you same place tomorrow. Let me know when you leave the college.”
“Okay.” Then I bit my lip and gestured at him. “Your hair…”
Ryland's brows drew together slightly, but he lowered his head to me nonetheless.
I got on my toes and reached up to brush the snow off his dark locks. The small action was reminiscent of my first day in his office, when we had just met.
I allowed myself only that much.
“Allie,” Ryland said in a voice that was stark with yearning.
“Done.” I stepped back, not meeting his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Without waiting for his reply, I turned to go back into the apartment.
After I shut and locked the door behind me, I looked through the peephole to watch him leave, as was my habit.
Ryland remained outside my apartment for long minutes, as if he wanted to knock but was debating if he should.
I held my breath as I waited, but in the end, he turned and left.
***
Bramston University was built in the early 1900's, with its main feature being the towering spires on the top of their buildings that gave it an almost castle-like aura. The main campus itself was built with slabs of limestone rocks that were brown with age, and the light snow that had fallen covered the stone in thin sheets of ice, making the surface glow in the late afternoon sun.
I'd been here once with Karin before during her freshman year orientation, but otherwise, I hadn't come by again. If I had to admit, the idea of being in a place that I didn't belong in intimidated me.
But now that I was a potential student, this place seemed different. Less of an unattainable fantasy, more of a dream come true. Even the opening lecture by a droning professor earlier had been exciting.
Karin was busy with classes, but I didn't mind taking the stroll around the place myself. Clutching my welcome package closer to my chest, I wandered through the Business campus, taking in the architecture, the manicured lawns, the throngs of undergraduates making their way to their classes.
Ryland had been right. This was what I'd always wanted but never dared hope for.
And he'd given it to me.
Nibbling my lip, I strolled along the open corridors facing the gardens.
For the past two months, Ryland had been there before I knew I needed him, a steady pillar for me to lean on without having to ask.
I bit back a smile at the thought of seeing him again later. Maybe I could buy him dinner.
Just to repay him, obviously. Nothing more.
I quickly dropped him a text to let him know I was headed back soon.
But the campus was so large that I soon lost my way trying to get back to the subway station. I wandered in circles for a while until I realized it was pointless, and decided to approach a youngish guy who looked like he knew where he was headed.
The guy pulled his headphones off when he saw me approaching, and nodded when I asked him the way to the nearest subway station.
“I’m actually headed there,” he said with a friendly grin. “I'll walk with you.”
“Thanks,” I said gratefully, falling into step beside him.
“So you're new here?” he gestured to the woven bag I carried that was stamped with the school's logo. “That's some welcome package they have. We didn't have fancy bags in my year.”
“I guess—I mean, yes. I'll be attending the business school in spring.”
“No kidding?” The guy gave me a surprised smile. “I'm in business too, Junior year. I'm Connor, by the way.”
“Allie.” I shook his outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Allie,” he mused. “That's a pretty name. So, any questions from a freshman to a junior?”
I thought for a moment. “I do have a couple, actually. Who are the interesting professors, for one? I want to make the most out of my time here.”
“Oh, that's easy.”
Connor started to tell me about the professors who gave easy scores, those to avoid, as well as studying tips for a fresh student. As it turned out, his subway stop was after mine, which gave us time to talk on the train.
I grew more excited as I listened to his stories about campus life, absorbing everything eagerly.
I was really doing this.
When we got to my stop, Connor offered to walk out with me.
“No need,” I assured him. “You've helped me out so much already, and I'm so grateful for that.”
“Nah, I insist.” He winked at me. “Come on, let me be a gentleman.”
I paused, hesitant to say yes.
But all the same, I didn't want to make a wrong impression on someone in the faculty before I even started.
“Just until outside then,” I said reluctantly.
As we walked up the stairs to the street, Connor asked conversationally, “So you got a boyfriend or something? A pretty girl like you wouldn't be single, right?”
My brows drew together warily. “I… Not really…”
“Sweet,” Connor grinned. “Tell you what, there's a party at one of the frat houses this Friday, and it would be totally cool if… “
I found myself ascending the stairs faster, hoping to shake him off and be on my way back.
“Well,” I said with a bright smile when we got to the street. “Here we are. Thanks for walking me. I guess I'll see you around.”
“Not so fast, Allie. You haven't given me your answer.” Connor raised his brows meaningfully. “Or your number.”
“Her answer is no, and fuck off,” came a dangerous growl above my head.
Crap.
I'd forgotten that Ryland was waiting.
Connor cleared his throat uneasily. “Uh… Do you know this guy?”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Unfortunately.”
Ryland's stare was pure icy disdain, with the full force of it being directed at Connor.
The poor boy didn’t stand a chance, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he took one step back. For all his youthful posturing, he was no match for Ryland, a guy who was in his prime and knew it well.
‘Look, I wasn't trying anything funny. She was lost on campus, and I was just—”
“Helping her out?” Ryland finished smoothly. “By asking for her number?”
“Ryland,” I said in a low voice. “Stop.”
“I was just trying to be friendly,” Connor hastened. He had all but forgotten about me.
“The next time you see her on campus,” Ryland said coldly, “you will do a one-eighty and walk the fuck away from her.”
I gasped. “You have no right to—”
“Absolutely.” Connor nodded. “I didn't mean anything earlier, I just didn't know that—”
“Now you know.” Ryland jerked his chin. “Get out of here.”
Connor disappeared down the stairs within seconds.
And I was practically shaking with fury.
“You can't keep doing this,” I said, whirling to glare up at Ryland. “You can’t keep acting like some territorial bear whenever other guys talk to me!”
“Then what the fuck do you want me to do?” Ryland snapped suddenly, the cold look in his eyes replaced with something wild. “If you think that I'm going to stand by and watch while some other guy asks you out, you're out of your fucking mind!”
“I knew it!” I burst. “Everything you said was just for show, wasn't it? You'll spend the rest of your life chasing me, but only if I remain single and celibate for your chasing. Flash news, I don’t have to! I will date whoever I want, whenever I want, and you’re only in my way!”
Ryland reared back as if I’d slapped him.
“You want to see other people,” he said hoarsely. “Is that what you’re saying?”
I paled, immediately regretting my reckless words. “I didn’t mean it like that…”
But the damage had been done. My hurtful words hung between us in a thick, choking miasma.
“Fuck this,” Ryland whispered, staring at me with an anguished expression. “Fuck this, Allie, you're killing me. You’re killing me and you don’t even know it.”
Then he turned and strode away—in the direction of my apartment.
“Ryland?” I swallowed. “Where are you going?”
“Taking you home,” he bit.
I blinked, startled. I'd expected him to walk away, but even in his hurt and anger, my safety came first.
I hurried after him, but the entire way back to my place was made in stony silence. Ryland didn’t look at me once, and I practically could feel the tension radiating from him.
At my door, I kept my eyes at the level of his neck, too guilty to meet his cold gaze.
“Maybe it's better if you don't come by again,” I said, twisting my fingers in front of me.
In reality, I didn't mean it, not really. But my desire to hold onto my pride and have the last say came into play as usual.
“Agreed,” Ryland said quietly.
I jerked my head up, my lips parting in shock.
Ryland simply stared down at me with an impassive expression, his face bearing no emotion whatsoever.
He didn’t really mean that, did he?
He was supposed to object and tell me not to be stubborn, like he always did.
And then he was supposed to come back for me anyway.
“Ryland—”
“I'll see you around, Allie,” he said in a low voice. “Lock the door behind you.”
With that, he turned and strode away without waiting for me to go in first.
I stared at his retreating form, my eyes growing hot and my vision becoming so blurry that I couldn’t make him out anymore.
Ryland had let go.
This time, it truly was over.