Moana isn’t an uncommon name on the island, but I don’t know why he thinks it’s fitting for me. Or what he means by the living Moana.
His hands fall to the sides and his eyes widen as he lets out an audible gasp. “You’ve never seen Moana?”
I glance at Ryker with a silent plea for help. “It’s a movie about a Polynesian girl going on a journey searching for more to life than the island.”
“Really?”
Did she find what she was looking for?
“Girl!” Donnie shoots forward in his chair, slapping his hand down on the table. The drinks teeter and the guys grab the beer bottles to keep them from tipping over. “We’re watching that movie. Tonight.” He points to Greer. “You have a theater in your crib. We’re coming over.”
“Oh, come on, D. She doesn’t want—”
I grip Ryker’s shirt to stop him. “Yes, I do.”
“That’s my girl,” Donnie exclaims, standing. He downs his drink and slams the empty glass on the table. “Hey, beautiful, we’re cashing out,” he yells across the bar to our waitress. She glances up from helping another table and smiles, acknowledging his request.
I guess the party’s moving.
Snuggled on the couch, that is larger than my entire living room, with a blanket covering us, Ryker and I dig into the popcorn Greer passed out.
“No hanky-panky over there,” Donnie states, staring at us as he gets comfortable in the couch’s corner. Hanky-panky? “Keep those hands above the blanket,” he explains further when he sees my confusion. Aww. Got it.
Ryker laughs, holds his hands in the air. “I can’t make any promises.”
I slap him in the stomach. I’m not a prude, but I’m not into putting on those kinds of shows. Well, I say that, but we’ve been out in the open many times where we could've easily been caught and it didn’t stop me. I shake the thoughts from my head. It’s not happening here.
From the moment the show starts, I don't peel my gaze away once. Even the couple times that Ryker’s hand slipped between my legs, I swatted him away.
I blot tears away when her family takes to the seas again. While our lives aren’t identical, I felt this story in my bones, giving me hope.
“You okay?” Ryker whispers in my ear.
I sniff. The story affected me more than I imagined.
“See. That’s your story,” Donnie says, pushing off the couch. I manage a slight smile. The only difference, I haven’t gotten off the island.
“All you got to do now, is marry that fool so you can stay.” Donnie points to Ryker before strutting out of the room like he didn’t drop a bomb.
Ryker’s face turns to stone before he responds, “She’s just here visiting, D.”
I’m not sure what I expected him to say after Donnie’s comment, but that wasn’t it. Ryker has my full attention, but refuses to look at me. Instead, he finishes his beer, pushes off the couch and walks out of the dark room. His spot turns cold, like his reaction. What the hell did I do?
I didn’t make that comment.
My vision blurs watching the rolling credits as tears pool, this time for a different reason. Swallowing the emotions back, I stand and fold the blanket. The insecurity Ryker's reaction expelled on me has me feeling out of place. The entire time I’ve been here, I’ve felt welcome. Now, I’m like an imposing stranger.
The guy’s voices lead me to the kitchen. “I um…” I stop talking when the guys all turn to me. All except Ryker. He’s downing another beer. “Thank you Greer for letting me watch the movie here. And Donnie, I can see why you love that movie. It was nice meeting everyone.” I grip my wallet, unsure what to do next.
Donnie comes over and gives me a huge bear hug. He reminds me of a few of the guys from home and I welcome the feeling. I wish I was back there.
“Ready?” Ryker says in a monotone voice. I nod, following him out the door.
The ride to Ryker’s place is just as awkward. He doesn’t say a word.
I didn’t expect the devastation to start early.
It’s time to go home.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ryker
I didn’t think this through.
The town car stops in front of my condo and I glance up at the white skyscraper, debating if I want to get out. I can make up another excuse. I already made up a fake team meeting.
Aspen leaves tomorrow and since Donnie’s comment last night, I’ve been avoiding her. Why? I don’t fucking know. The word