Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ryder
I was telling the truth when I said I knew there was something more to Lindsay the moment I laid eyes on her, but the girl constantly surprised me and was even more amazing than I’d expected. I looked into her big brown eyes, slightly obscured by the paint on her goggles, and fell even harder for her right there on the spot.
While I’d accused her of having a grudge against fun, the more time I spent with her, the more I saw that she made everything more fun. I grabbed her hand and we sprinted over to refill our guns.
Once everyone had two loaded clips, we stood in the center of the arena again.
“The only rule is no close shot,” Daniel said. “Sure, welts are hilarious, but some of us need to play hockey tomorrow.” I had a feeling Coach would kill us if he knew we were running around risking injuries on a game of paintball a week before the regional semifinals.
“I don’t need to be on the ice tomorrow.” Lindsay bumped her shoulder into me.
“Are you saying that you’re ready to take me on?”
“I’m saying that for big bad hockey players, you guys sure have a lot of rules.”
My retort died on my lips when Daniel called go, and chaos ensued. Bullets flew. Paint exploded. Lindsay aimed her gun right at my chest. I dodged, but she was too fast.
I rolled and fired back at her, aiming for more grazing shots than full on. After a few minutes, though, I could hardly tell which direction she was in, where the bullets were coming from, and seeing out of my goggles became next to impossible. Through one tiny sliver, I fired at anything that moved.
Finally, the only sound that filled the air was the click, click, click of empty guns.
One by one, we removed our goggles. Everyone’s eyes and toothy grins glowed against the colors splattered across their skin. I scanned the crowd, trying to find Lindsay.
There’s the sexy smile I’d know anywhere. Paint dripped from her ponytail, and smears of color covered every inch of her skin, save the few inches that’d been protected by the goggles.
We put away the weapons and gear, and chatted as we made our way back to the parking lot.
Lindsay talked animatedly with the rest of the girls, laughing as they recapped our battle. How could she not see that she fit right in? I hoped this meant she’d be at the rest of the games, because knowing she was in the crowd helped me play better, whether or not my dad thought so.
Everyone thanked Daniel for setting things up and we made our good-byes. When I reached for Lindsay, she slid her hand in mine, and all was right with the world.
I walked her to the passenger side of my car and opened the door for her.
“I’m going to get your seat dirty,” she said.
“I’m not worried. Of course, if you want to strip…” I added an eyebrow waggle.
She rolled her eyes, but I got a heart-stopping grin out of it, and when she brushed past me, she kissed my cheek.
As soon as we were both in my car, I said, “My place? You made dinner for me, so I think it’s only fair that I do the cooking tonight.”
“Well, I’d hate to be unfair.” She leaned back against the seat. “But you can cook, right? I’d also hate to eat food that shouldn’t be consumed.”
“I guess you’ll just have to see for yourself.”
During the drive, we kept mostly to light topics, holding hands and letting the radio fill any silences. A calm settled over me, and things seemed so easy—almost too easy, and I wasn’t sure why there was this whispering in the back of my brain that warned me not to get too comfortable.
Probably because this was only temporary. The thought made my chest constrict, even though it was way too early to be thinking like that. We had a couple of months left. One of which I’d be so busy with playoffs madness that seeing her would be next to impossible.
My roommates somehow work it out.
Of course, none of their girlfriends were about to graduate and leave them behind.
Just enjoy it. You don’t need all the answers right now.
I tried to shake it off, but the borrowed time sensation still lingered in the back of my mind as I walked Lindsay into our place.
My stomach growled the instant the kitchen came into view, so even though we were both paint covered, I decided we’d start with food. I opened the fridge door and peered inside, hoping for ingredients to something I knew how to make to magically appear. “Standard fare around here is toaster waffles or microwave burritos, but I do know how to cook eggs and bacon.”
“I love breakfast for dinner.” Lindsay came over and peeked into the fridge with me. “Looks like you have milk. How about flour and sugar? I can make pancakes.”
“Doubtful. But Whitney and Megan occasionally leave groceries behind, so we might have pancake mix somewhere around here.” I opened cupboards until I found the Bisquick. “Will this work?”
“Perfect.” She took the box from me and searched shelves until she found a bowl. I loved how she simply dove in, no tiptoeing around or being too cautious. She was definitely the grab-the-bull-by-the-horns type.
We moved around the kitchen, occasionally bumping into each other—I might’ve done it on purpose a few times. It made her laugh and gave me the excuse to grip her hips to steady her.
She looked down at her clothes. “I managed to get pancake mix on me, but I guess it just goes with all the paint.”
The paint was dried, and after double-checking it wouldn’t leave marks, we settled on the couch to eat.
“So you love breakfast for dinner,” I said. “What about favorite overall food?”
She pursed her lips and looked to the ceiling, like the answer would be there. “I’d have to go with my mom’s enchiladas. Through the years, regardless of the many moves and different family dynamics, there were those nights in the kitchen making dinner with her. None of her boyfriends could handle the hot ones, so she’d always have to make two pans. One for us, and one for him. And his children if he had any, although most of them didn’t.”
“Sounds like you moved around a lot.”
“Oh, yeah. Mom didn’t go long between boyfriends, either, so while we had the occasional apartment here and there—sometimes even paid for by said boyfriends—I was forever living in bland, generic guest bedrooms.” Her fork scraped her plate, her eyes focused on the trails it made through the syrup.
“That sucks.”
“It wasn’t so bad. I felt invisible sometimes, but I lived in a lot of nice places.”
I set my empty plate on the coffee table and scooted closer to her. “Funny enough, sometimes I wished to be invisible growing up. Dad would see me and tell me I should be practicing or lifting, and Mom would see me and tell me to straighten up, or that my clothes looked sloppy. Or she’d remind me of some event like the one I made you go to with me—having you there made it so much better, by the way.”
Lindsay placed her hand over mine. “I’m glad. I guess that everyone has crap to deal with, no matter what their home life was like. I used to wish Mom would just marry one of the guys so we could settle down and put some roots down. I think she would’ve with a few, too, but they never seemed to ask.”
“Well, I had a so-called steady home, but behind closed doors, there was a lot of fighting. Then my dad…” I cleared my throat. I didn’t mean to go this deep, but it seemed too late to backtrack now, and I found I didn’t want to. I’d never really talked to anyone about it before. I never really talked to anyone about much of anything before. “My mom had suspected him of cheating on her when he was out on the road before—they constantly fought about it. I guess he’d had an affair right before I was born, but he swore he’d never cheat again. But then she found proof of another woman when I was ten or so, and the shit hit the fan. It was like a war zone, and I felt like their pawn. It was a relief when they finally got divorced.”
“I guess I’m lucky that I never had to deal with that. Although the end of every one of her relationships felt a bit like that—not that anyone was fighting over me, but she’d take a month or so to wallow, and then she’d go after the next guy.” Lindsay flinched. “She’s better than I’m making her out to be. She’s not perfect, obviously, but after watching her go through that again and again, I swore I’d never rely on a guy for anything. I also swore to never fall in love.”
Pieces clicked into place, the way she kept pushing me away in the beginning. Her hesitation to cross worlds, as she put it. I wasn’t sure how her past with the hockey team factored into that, but I was smart enough not to bring it up.
I laced my fingers with hers. “I get not wanting to rely on other people for everything, but it’s okay for some things.” I locked eyes with her. “You can rely on me. I’m here, Lindsay. I…care about you.”
“I care about you, too, but I don’t think getting used to relying on you is a good idea. This semester will be over before we know it, and then we’ll go our different ways.”
“But trying to get through life all alone isn’t a good idea, either. I was trying it before you came along. Sure, I have the team, and those guys are like my brothers, but this thing with you…” I brought our joined hands to my chest and rubbed my thumb over her knuckles. “It’s the first time I don’t remember feeling lonely in a long time.”
Tears bordered her eyes and she pressed her lips together. “Ryder…I’m afraid we’re going to both end up hurt.”
“Don’t worry about me, I’m tougher than I look,” I said, and she choked out a laugh.
“Then you must be fucking invincible.”
Warmth flooded my chest. I loved that she saw me that way. With her, I felt fucking invincible, which was probably why I foolishly thought somehow everything would be okay, even though I knew it wasn’t a logical conclusion.
I cupped her cheek. “I don’t have all the answers, but like I’ve told you before, I go after what I want. And in case I haven’t made it clear, Lindsay Rivera, that’s you.” Since I figured showing her exactly how I felt about her would be more powerful, I slid my hand around the back of her head, twisting my fingers through her silky hair and capturing her lips with mine.
Then I put everything I was feeling into the kiss, hoping that she would finally understand I wasn’t going to give up on us without a fight.