Page 74 of Shy Girls Can't Date Rockstars
I purse my lips to hold back a laugh. I want to tell him it’s likely everyone’s still looking at him, even if the other guys are playing. But I shouldn’t freak him out.
His head tilts. “What’s that look?”
“Nothing.” I wave it off. “Why did you admit you have nerves, anyway? You seem like you’ve been trying to cover it up?”
He shrugs, lowering his gaze. “You’ve revealed some heavy stuff to me. Seemed safe to do the same.”
I swallow hard, getting flashes of my anxious jabbering during our tutoring sessions. “Safe?”
He lifts his gaze to meet mine. “Is it not?”
I’m too stunned to utter a response.
“I’ve been trying to figure you out,” Ryder says, relaxing slightly. “All the preppy kids at school are like open books. Either living off Daddy’s money or wanting to become influencers. But you’re not as easy to read.”
I frown at the water bottle, clasping my hands tightly under the table. “Doesn’t orphan sum it up enough?”
Ryder’s frame collapses and there’s a woundedness in his expression. “Oh, Alice. That word doesn’t sum you up.”
“It’s a fact about me.”
“But it’s not you.”
“There’s nothing else left of me.”
“Back at the park, something inside you lit up when you were taking those photos.”
“It dimmed pretty quickly. Didn’t you see me try to hit the dirt?”
“Of course, that’s why I caught you so fast.”
I purse my lips halfway between a smile and a wince. “You shouldn’t have been watching. I told you to look away from the camera.”
“I had to look. I had to work out why I was strumming again and not messing up.” Ryder sits further forward. “Why, in front of you, it felt safe to play.”
A server approaches with our burgers and fries, and I feel sweet mercy.
Ryder looks like he wants to continue the conversation, but holds his tongue as our food is placed on the table. He sits back, probably deciding that delving deeper into the vulnerable topic isn’t the best idea.
Agreed.
When the server leaves, I catch Ryder staring. Ugh. Is he about to order me to eat? I quickly pick out a fry and take a bite.
Mmm. Salty goodness.
It seems to placate Ryder enough, because he lifts his own burger, taking a large bite.
I eat another two fries while working myself up to the burger. It’s probably the most substantial thing I’ll have eaten all week. But it’s taking some time to convince my brain it’s safe to eat it. Would Ryder make a huge fuss if I only stuck to the fries?
Come on, I can do this. Just one bite.
“One bite of the cheeseburger, Sprout.”
I flinch, getting a wave of chills.
“Dad?” I whisper under my breath.
Ryder lifts his head. “Huh?”
