I’ve chosen not to start it until we are face to face.
Honestly, I’m starting to wonder if something has happened, but I’ve pushed that thought down to keep from losing my shit. She’s stubborn. She’s doing this to be stubborn, I know it in my gut.
“I’m only concerned about you. This isn’t like you, but I’ll mind my damn business,” Ryan says.
“Ry, I’m sorry.”
“Eat my ass.” He goes to turn away from me, but I grab him by the arm and tug him into me. Damn, this kid has outgrown us all. He’s at least five inches taller than me, but he still melts in my arms like the big baby he is. He wouldn’t let on to anyone, but I know I’ve hurt his feelings. “I love you, Ry. I’m annoyed with some shit. It’s not you.”
He pulls away and looks me in my eyes. “Damn, we’re going to have another wedding,” he says.
“What?”
“Whoever she is, she’s different. You think she can handle all your kinky shit? Wait, that’s the problem, you like this one, but she doesn’t know.”
I roll my eyes. “Goodbye, Ryan.”
“Hold on, what the fuck is going on with Missy then? She’s been blowing me up. You said you told her about this, and she didn’t want to come. I call bullshit.”
I clench my jaw. First, I don’t know how or why Missy has been calling and texting my brothers. Yes, I talked to her the other night when I arrived here in Seattle. I was exhausted and told her I was handling some personal shit with my family and I’d check on her in a few days.
I don’t know why I lied to Ryan. I guess it was because I knew he would pry. My phone grabs my attention as it vibrates with a text. It’s Roni.
I’m here.
“Hey, we’ll talk later,” I say to Ry and take off before he can grill me any further.
When I get out front, I’m expecting a town car. Instead, I find a motorcycle roaring its way up the street. When it stops Roni climbs off in a pair of tight-fitting jeans, a T-shirt, and boots. Parking the bike, she removes her helmet, gets off, and leans back against the motorcycle. She’s not dressed for a wedding at all.
Moving down the driveway, I stop in front of her and shove my hands into my pockets to keep from touching her. Not only would that be inappropriate, but I’ve come to learn she’s not fond of people in her space. I want to respect that as much as I can. Our dance the other night was definitely out of her comfort zone, which made me cherish it even more.
“You left. You left and didn’t say a word,” she says, her words coming off oddly detached.
“You followed,” I say and grin.
She shrugs. “I wanted answers and I wanted them in person.”
“What happened to your dress? I told them to get you a dress and heels,” I say.
“I don’t want to go to a wedding,” she seethes. “I don’t know them, and I apparently don’t know you.”
I close the gap between us. “Yet, here you are.”
She pushes at my chest, causing me to take a step back. Not from the force of the shove, but because it’s what she wants. She glares at me, her nostrils flaring.
“You could have told me to my face. I never thought of you as a coward,” she spats.
“Wait, how am I a coward?” I say, wrinkling my brows.
She widens her eyes. Not for the first time in the last few minutes alone, I want to tug her in and kiss that sexy ass mouth. Even as she’s pissed off, I note that she looks good, healthy.
I can’t help thoughts of reaching for that single braid she has resting over one shoulder. I love that it’s not perfect. It’s fuzzy strands rebel against the weave she’s forced them into. Her curls as defiant as she is.
“How are you not a coward? We had a thing. Then you run off. Why?”
“I told you in the letter, my brother needed me.”
She looks past me to the house, drawing her brows together. When her confused gaze comes back to me, I think I understand where her thoughts are. I ball my fists in my pockets because right now, all I want is to reach for her.
“You didn’t know he was getting married? You couldn’t have told me sooner that you were leaving?”