Page 59 of The Downside of Love
The door to the apartment opens and not even turning my head, I say, “Hey Ryan.”
“Hey Stryder. Did you eat dinner?”
“Nah, you?”
“Nope, thankfully Rory brought some.”
Rory?
And there goes my peace.
Sitting up straight, I turn my head in time to see Rory carrying in a casserole dish and a bag of groceries. I rush to her side as quickly as humanly possible and take the bag from her.
“You shouldn’t be lifting things.” I take the casserole dish as well.
When I take her in, I catch the roll of her eyes before she turns to shut the door. “I can carry things, Stryder. It’s not like I had a hernia.”
I take the food to the kitchen, setting the warm dish on the counter and peeking in the bag to see salad fixings, which I stick in the fridge.
“I’m going to go change real quick,” Ryan calls out, tossing her purse to the floor and flipping her shoes off her feet during her rush down the hall to her room.
Rory is wearing denim shorts and a black T-shirt that says “I’m the cat’s meow.” Her hair is pulled back, exposing her neck, and a light amount of makeup decorates her eyes, making the green pop. She’s so fucking beautiful. I’ve missed seeing her so much.
She looks so damn good, and just like that, air is stolen from my lungs once again.
We haven’t talked since Monday morning when I was getting ready for work, and it feels like an eternity rather than two and a half days. Four hugs . . . I’ve missed those too, and yet I doubt she’ll hug me here.
Bringing the attention to the living room, her brow crinkles when she says, “You’re watching the Rockies game?”
“Yeah,” I drag out. “Is that okay?”
“Of course, you just . . . I don’t know. You never watch it at my place.”
Because I’d rather talk to you than watch TV. Because I’d rather spend my time learning more about you, not wasting it staring at a TV.
“Wasn’t sure if you got the channel,” I lie. Because I fucking can’t tell her that I’m hopelessly in love with her and would do just about anything to hear her soft voice for hours on end.
“I do,” she answers, fiddling with the casserole dish.
“Okay,” I say awkwardly, the tension between us building and not in a good way.
We don’t feel natural right now. I knew I fucked things up the other night by letting myself get too handsy, and we’re feeling it now. She’s uncomfortable around me, and I fucking hate that.
“You know, I should let you and Ryan have some time together. I’ll, uh, I’ll go out.” I head to the entryway to put on my shoes when Ryan comes barreling down the hallway, throwing her hair up in a ponytail.
“Where are you going?” she asks, eyeing me.
“I was going to go out, give you and Rory some time together.”
“What? No, she made tuna noodle casserole. You have to stay and eat.”
“Nah, it’s okay. You guys have fun.”
Ryan comes up to me, looking like a little spitfire in short pink shorts and matching tank top. The girl has no problem showing off skin. “Don’t be ridiculous. Take your damn shoes off. You’re eating with us.”
She swats my shoes away and pulls my arm, dragging me through the kitchen to the little dining set in the corner. It’s bigger than Rory’s with four chairs compared to Rory’s two. Personally, I like the two because it’s perfect for us.God, I’m so hopeless.
Sitting me in the chair, she points her finger at me in a commanding manner and says, “Stay.”
