Page 36 of The Downside of Love
Chuckling, he says, “You might judge me.”
Well, now I’m seriously intrigued.
“I won’t.”
Exhaling, he says, “I went to Amy’s Donuts.”
Okay, that gives me pause. Out of all the things I thought Stryder might say, I never thought he’d say Amy’s Donuts, the iconic donut shop in Colorado Springs, known best for their crazy toppings and sugar-filled, coma-inducing donuts.
“Amy’s Donuts?” I ask, wanting to make sure I heard him clearly.
“Yeah, down south. Growing up, once I had my license, it was my go-to place to escape the wrath of my father. Being the dick he was, we weren’t allowed to have any kind of sweets in the house, and were raised on a strict diet, so once I got my license, the first place I went to was Amy’s Donuts and got the Fruity Pebble donut. I sat in the corner with my donut, milk in hand, and enjoyed the fuck out of that thing. I ordered two more after that, mentally giving my dad a giant middle finger. It turned into my little sanctuary. I would go there whenever my dad pushed me over the edge.”
“And that’s where you went today?”
“Yeah.”
“Did my mom push you over the edge?”
He chuckles, his voice growing soft. “No. Your mom is really nice.” He lets out a long breath. “I feel like a dick for even saying this, but you deserve to understand. I guess I was envious of your relationship with your mom. It’s so loving, giving each other hugs and all that bullshit. Hell, I can’t remember the last time I was hugged, especially by a family member. It just isn’t the way my family works. It made me feel . . . empty, so I took off, ate some donuts.” He chuckles. “I guess it’s better than getting lost in a bottle.”
Not hugged?
My heart squeezes from the thought.
Colby and Stryder are so similar, it’s no wonder they connected so quickly. But at least because Colby has his grandpa’s love, he knows what it’s like to have affection bestowed upon him. Stryder, on the other hand, from what it seems, has never really been shown any kind of affection.
Before I can stop myself, my heart propelling me forward, I hop out of my bed and walk over to Stryder’s little corner. Hands behind his head, he looks up at me, his blue eyes shimmering in the moonlight.
He gives me a once-over and then says, “What are you doing?”
Swallowing hard, I ask, “Can you stand please?”
“Stand?” His eyebrow quirks up.
I twist the hem of my shirt in my hand and nod. “Please.”
Seeming skeptical, he moves his blanket to the side and stands in front of me, his tall, broad frame towering over my small, petite frame. Wearing a T-shirt and shorts, his hair disheveled already, hands at his sides, he says, “You’re not going to kick me in the shin for not bringing back donuts, are you?”
Not answering him, I step forward and wrap my arms around his waist, resting my cheek on his chest. His body tenses, his breath catches in his lungs, and his arms hang stiffly to the side. He doesn’t sayanything. And when I squeeze him, he becomes even more like a rigid board.
“Wh-what are you doing, Rory?”
Holding back the emotion starting to rise up my throat, I say, “I can’t stand the fact that you don’t remember the last hug you had. That just about kills me, Stryder.”
“I didn’t say it to get a hug.” His voice is gruff, raw.
I glance at him, the scruff on his jaw new and different than the usual freshly shaven man I’ve come to know. “I know you didn’t, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still want to do something about it.”
His strong jaw works back and forth, debating his next move, and instead of waiting to see what he’s going to do, I lower my head back to his chest and hold him.
I don’t care if he doesn’t hug me back or if from the outside this looks incredibly awkward. All I care about it making sure Stryder realizes he’s valued in my eyes, that he isn’t a castaway in someone else’s mind.
Slowly, I can feel him start to relax against my hold, his back muscles easing, his breath filling his lungs and unexpectedly, he tentatively wraps his arms around me, encasing me in his warm embrace. He doesn’t squeeze me tight but holds me protectively, as if he breathes wrong, I’ll disappear.
He has nothing to worry about; I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be damned if he feels alone anymore. If anything, he will at least have me in his corner, cheering him on.And he deserves more than just me, but being there for him feels so incredibly right.
Chapter Twelve
