Page 117 of Chasing Ruin
I hate it. I absolutely hate the fact that it’s no longer indifference that I feel for him. That it’s not his guilt, or apologies, or even his self-loathing that has penetrated my walls.
It’s the love he’s so willingly admitting to me. A love that has currently been shaping my peace.
And I pray to any higher power that it doesn’t start to coax me into developing feelings for him. For therealRuin.
God. Please, no.
I stare at the last bite of my peanut butter and jam sandwich. The direct evidence of his love.
“No!” I snap at the damn thing angrily. Then, huffing, I finish it.
After freshening up for the day, I steel myself at the door. Preparing myself to face him again today.
The moment I open the door, I freeze.
Leaning against the wall, lost in the screen of his phone, is Ryder.
He looks up when I make my way out, but just like every time he’s been around me since our kiss, he stares through me. A tight smile on his face that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Good morning,” he says, but his tone is hollow.
I gulp hard, struggling to understand why it’s him on my duty today. “Where… where’s Ruin?”
God. I no longer feel the ache in my chest when I form that word. I’m pretty sure it’ll be a while before I can even utter his given name.
Ryder shrugs casually. “At his parents’ house. He hadn’t seen them since the ‘lockdown’ so he swapped with me.”
I haven’t seen them either. Even Torch doesn’t show up in person for church anymore, not wanting to leave Mama by herself.
As far as I’ve been told, he joins in remotely, even though their house is barely a ten-minute walk away.
Silence takes over. Ryder stares at me, waiting. Like I’ll have more to say. But I just nod numbly.
He sighs and starts walking toward the main hall. I follow—ignoring the sharp pang of disappointment that Ruin purposely had Ryder take over for today.
“Alright. I’ll be working with Bug through the afternoon. You got anything on your agenda?”
I shake my head, realizing stupidly that he isn’t even looking at me. So I finally mumble a quiet ‘no’.
My agenda. What a joke. All I can do—or am allowed to do, in this situation—is keep my eyes and ears open. All while looking over my shoulder in case Hell’s Army has clawed its way in deeper.
Ryder and I spent the whole morning in Ruin’s office.
The clacking of his keyboard is the only sound enveloping the room.
It also doesn’t help that I’ve made myself oddly comfortable on the couch, which is also Ruin’s bed. That awareness is the only thing running through my mind. Even as I try to stay productive.
His scent settles deep—something earthy mixed with soap and a hint of citrus. Then I practically lie down, reading my BSW coursework for the next semester on my phone. But the words start to blur. I try my best to convince myself that it’s exhaustion from barely getting any sleep last night. Maybe even a hangover, but that’d be pretty weak of me to admit—even to myself—that it barely took me two glasses of wine to get here.
I don’t realize when the clock hits noon. I’m barely reading the case study I have open in front of me. My blinks start to last longer and longer. The next thing I know, I jolt awake, almost panicked.
My phone is no longer resting lazily on my chest. In fact, I’m sideways on the couch. A duvet wrapped snugly around me. His duvet.
There’s no clacking of keys in the room anymore. Just silence. Which is why I naively conclude that I’m alone and snuggle deeper into the musky scent. Inhaling deep.
A throat clears, and I nearly jump out of my skin.
Yanking the duvet off, I hastily sit up blinking away the sleep, bleary-eyed and embarrassed as hell.
