The Ruby Riot Series: Box Set Part 116

"Me and her what?"

"The other night. It was f.u.c.king odd, like someone came in and bulldozed the tension between her and you, and suddenly... y'know. You and her. You looked natural."

I tip my head at him. "What the h.e.l.l are you talking about? You've spent too much time around women."

"I saw how you looked at her a few nights ago, man. Little touches, whispered words, s.n.a.t.c.hed kisses. What really happened when you were stuck together last month? I thought you'd just screwed each other for days but it's more, isn't it? Did you have deep and meaningful conversations and s.h.i.+t like that?"

"No. We don't know each other." I wave a hand. "Clearly."

We settle into silence, and Will grabs the remote, clicks through the program selection, and debates with himself out loud what to watch.

"Ask her to explain about the kid," he says eventually.

"What? No f.u.c.king point. I don't want to be around kids!"

"But what if she's the girl you're meant to be with?"

I stand. "What have you been smoking, Will?"

He shrugs and wriggles down into his chair and lifts his booted feet onto the table.

"I saw the reason for all this when I was back in Oxford," he says.

"Why don't you make any sense today?"

"I know this refusing to get close to chicks thing is all about Charlotte breaking your heart. No idea what the s.h.i.+t was that happened between you, but you need to move on already. She has."

I swallow down the emotion at the mention of her name. "I'm sure she has."

"Yeah. Married. Remember that guy from school? TJ? Him. And they have a kid." Will chews on a corn chip. "So, let it go. Life moves on."

Will's words slug me in the stomach, knocking the breath from me. He has no idea what he just said to me. "How old? The kid?"

"I dunno. Same as Ruby's? Little."

The rising panic retreats, but the painful stab of her name coming into my life again today doesn't leave. Especially with this news.

f.u.c.k. No. Don't even go there, Nate.

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"Just saying. Sort your life out, man."

I bite back the desire to yell at him for interfering, for waltzing into my day and dropping something this f.u.c.king big on me. Why now? Today? Fate has a f.u.c.king sick way of dealing with me right now. I need to escape. "I'm gonna grab a shower. Will you come out for a few drinks? There's somewhere I wanna go. If Fleur'll let you out on your own?"

"I do what I want. Where we going?"

I give him a slow grin. "Peaches."

"Uh. Maybe not."

"Putting a chick before your broken-hearted brother?" I c.o.c.k a brow.

"Broken-hearted, my a.s.s."

"You don't have to touch."

"And you're not allowed to. Club rules."

"Not interested in touching today. Help cheer me up, Will."

Will sits forward. "Okay, I'll change and come back later. But you gotta give me the full run down on all this Riley s.h.i.+t. It's obviously upset you."

"Nah. I got an off switch." I flick fingers at my head. "Off."

I lied about the switch. I'm on overload here. Riley. Charlotte. The past and present collided a few days ago, and now they're merging. Why the f.u.c.k did Will have to say that?

She married the b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

Again, I throw aside Will's words. I can't let her and all that s.h.i.+t in too.

The water pours over my head, but doesn't wash away the tension or the aching. Hiding in my house achieves nothing. Why can't I confront this? Riley? Anybody?

I go with the flow, always did, but the current is stronger than ever dragging me further into a constructed life of fame, and away from my old one. The Nate I chose to bring on the journey is the one who can cope by closing out the past, not the one from the early days of the band.

Will moved on. He embraced our new life in his own way. We lost our joint ident.i.ty, and as Will moved away, he pulled part of my construct down too. Will kept himself that little bit closer to people; initiated much of the stupid we involved ourselves in, and rode the wave with me. Then suddenly me and him together wasn't enough for Will. Yeah, I get that. A girl would always come between us, but it p.i.s.ses me off he can't see what will happen. Women f.u.c.k you over. Family and friends should come first.

The situation was inevitable. Will and me no longer the twins despite the public's love of the gimmick we create. We've argued about this s.h.i.+t, Will accusing me of not wanting to grow up. Why the h.e.l.l do I need to grow up and look for responsibilities when I'm young and a successful musician with the world dropping at my feet? Why get involved with anybody and fall for lies, the way I just did with Riley?

Underneath, I know Will didn't mean grow up into a responsible adult. His look hinted at the time in my life we don't talk about; the day my emotional growth froze. He means I need to let go and move on. I told him when I was ready I would. To shut him up, and not because I have any intention of taking steps outside of my citadel and into people's lives.

Until Riley. Two years hating on each other, when all the time we were holding back the truth set to ambush us, if we slackened our emotional grip on ourselves for a moment. Suddenly, the girl in front of me wasn't Riley Sawyer who p.i.s.sed me off and rejected me two years ago; this was the girl who I'd unwittingly let inside and never managed to send away again. The hatred fed the pain I denied and the situation with her and a kid three days ago resurrected the last time I'd hurt this badly.

I don't know what to do. I know what I should do: talk to Riley, sort this s.h.i.+t out, and move on; but it's easier to pretend to her and myself, I don't have a heart, than admit she's the girl who kick-started it.

With the thoughts scrubbed away by my shower, I pull on a clean pair of jeans and wander back into the lounge. The doorbell rings and I ignore it. A couple of minutes later, the same thing. From my vantage point in the bedroom, I look down into the front garden.

Riley.

My throat tightens and panic sets in. Do I ignore her? That's the easiest route. I'm too vulnerable for Riley, and scared what I might spill when she digs under my skin again.

People don't normally come back. n.o.body attempts to find answers from me.

33.

RILEY.

The mistakes at work continued; and unable to concentrate at all, I make what could be a stupid decision. Midway through my working day, the crazy takes over and I drive to Nate's place.

Pausing a few metres from the door, I dig my hands into my coat pocket, and look up at the bedroom. My stomach grips with nausea. What if the Nate inside tears into me and I leave in a bigger mess? Should I walk away now?

No.

I buzz the intercom. No response. I buzz again and pace from foot to foot. He must be out. With mingled disappointment and relief, I turn to walk down the step and Nate's voice finally asks who's outside. When I tell him, he doesn't respond. My sick stomach flips. I tried.

The door opens and the awkward wedges between us. The intense eyes hold confusion, not the hard anger I expected. He runs a hand through his damp hair and a muscle in his jaw twitches.

"I'm surprised to see you," he says.

"I thought you would be. We need to talk."

He snorts. "Apparently we do."

Nate opens the door wider and I step into the hallway, and the familiarity of his house. The same pair of shoes rest in the same place they have each time I've walked in, the environment unchanged.

Nate's s.h.i.+rtless which means I'm about to struggle with the distraction of the man who held me, and how on top of, and away from, the world he took me.

He continues to stare at me as if I'm an apparition, which is better than his f.u.c.k you, Riley face I'm accustomed to in these situations.

I wait for a c.o.c.ky comment, but he strides into the lounge. I follow and he grabs a T-s.h.i.+rt from the sofa. My heart speeds as I recognise it. Has the Blue Phoenix s.h.i.+rt been there since the day I dragged it off him, and we spent an evening making love on the sofa?

Making love. I bite the inside of my lip. Not s.e.x, not f.u.c.king, but open, intimate, connection. Everybody and everything else only existed outside; that night was one of the first times my heart and soul attempted to pa.s.s to him with the kiss, and I held back.

"How are you, Nate?" I sit uninvited on the sofa and he looks down at me, arms tightly crossed. "I worried about you."

"No need. I'm fine."

Silence. No eye contact. Seriously? I took the step in coming here. I take a calming breath. "I understand why you walked away. I would've done."

"Uh huh." Nate tips his head at me. "So?"

I place my bag on the floor, and settle my hands in my lap. "I was going to tell you about Josh the night of the party, but I was sick. Then the next day, I didn't expect you to come to the house, and find out that way. I should've told you earlier. I'm sorry."

He shrugs. "Least I know now. I hear you've stopped pretending your son doesn't exist and everybody knows."

I frown at him. "I never pretended he didn't exist."

"Yes. You spent years pretending to yourself you're not a mother."

"I have not! Every decision I've made has been for Josh." Where is this from? Nate's arms tighten across his chest, the disgust on his face as big a shock as if he'd pulled me apart for lying to him.

"If that's true, why didn't anybody know about him? Why didn't I know about him?"

"I didn't want to be judged." His expression doesn't change. "I'm surprised by your reaction. I thought you'd be upset because I didn't tell you about Josh."

He shrugs again. "Why does you having a kid matter to me?"

"Because we... I mean, what we have..."

"Have? We said see how we go. It had just been s.e.x until a week ago. I'm happy I found out. I couldn't have any kind of relations.h.i.+p with somebody like you. No big deal."

I swallow. "Someone like me? A single mother?"

"I don't like kids, but it's not the single mother thing that bothers me. You're not who I thought. Well, maybe you're what I spent two years thinking. Cold-hearted."

"What?" I say in a low voice.

"I thought I'd found somebody like me, who I could get close to. You lied. Could've told me about the kid, and I could've made a decision. And like I said, the way you pretend he's an inconvenience. That changes my mind about you, big time."

Whoa. I stand. "Out of order, Nate. Do not talk about things you have no understanding of."

"I don't want to be involved with somebody who treats their kid like you do."

"What? Work hard and provide for my child?"

"No. Be too ashamed to tell people. Miss Perfect and her s.h.i.+ny image. Thought I'd fall in love with you and be dad to your kid?" He laughs. "Would never happen."

Heat floods my face. "Don't judge me. I didn't need to have the baby when I found out I was pregnant. I could've-"

Nate interrupts. "Where's the dad?"

"None of your business." This is downright weird. I expected Nate to put me down for lying to him; but instead, he's treating me as the worst person in the world, and totally contradicting himself.

"Bet you told him to keep away, right? Didn't suit your image to have him around? Or didn't you know who he was?"

"None of your business," I repeat in a cold tone. Nate laughs and the derision p.i.s.ses me off. How is this black and white to him? How dare he judge me? "Is this personal, Nate?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I eye the empty bottles on the table, his edgy manner, and fact he's talking. Beer always loosens his tongue.

The hurt behind his eyes when he opened the door to me this afternoon is replaced by something else as I watch the wall building up, brick by brick with each word we exchange.

"I understand if you don't want to talk to me; but whatever it is about this situation that's cut you like this, you need to talk to somebody."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You're not yelling at me for lying, you're accusing me of failing my son."