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“Hey,” he said, leaning forward toward where she was sitting on the edge of the bed. “I said some wicked shit to you tonight, and I’m sorry.”
“I wasn’t too nice to you either, so let’s call it even. We know how ugly our fights can get. Rizz tried to warn us that first night we met, but we didn’t listen. Neither one of us ever listens. To shit.”
“The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you, Amara. When I get angry, I say things, horrible things, that I don’t mean. I’ve done it a few times to you now, and I’m really sorry.”
“It’s OK. I know your heart. None of what you say in those moments ever comes from there.”
They sat quietly for a few minutes, with Amara finally speaking. “Ryan, I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just gonna say it and hope that maybe it will help you. I’m dating someone. I have been for almost two weeks, and I…really like him.”
“I know,” he replied calmly. “Hayes told me. And I hope he gets hit by a bus…I mean, I hope he makes you happy.” He smiled at her, but she didn’t smile back. “Terrible joke. Sorry. Listen,” he said, reaching up to where she was sitting and taking her hand. “You deserve happiness. And I hope I can meet him someday, you know, when doing so won’t rip my worthless heart out of my actual asshole.” He got up from the floor with her help, stretched his arms over his head, and yawned. “I should get some sleep. Bus leaves at 9:00 a.m. That should be a fun ride. Everyone’s gonna be tore up.”
He headed towards her door, put one hand on the doorframe, then turned around to face her. “Hey, um. So now that you’ve got yourself a man, you gonna stop bangin’ around with Hayes?”
She nodded. “You gonna start?”
He smiled, blushing. “Maybe.”
“For what it’s worth, I am 100 percent here for Ryler.”
“Ryler?” he laughed. “Oh, that’s so bad.”
“You kidding? It’s literally perfect. I tried Bayes, Haylor, and Tylan, but Ryler is where it's at.”
“You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?”
“Yes. And Ryan, I’m serious: talk to him. OK? There’s no shame in it. And just so you know? If everyone else in the goddamn world turns their back on you, I won’t. Ever. We have our shit to wade through like everyone else, but I’m here for you. I just needed you to hear that.”
He winked at her and tapped the doorframe twice. “Samesies. Hey: I’m glad we talked. Night, Amara.”
“Night, Ryan.”
Closing the door and starting down the hall, he heard her yell, “Ryler is happening!”
He smirked, then had a moment of sheer panic, wondering if this next chapter he was about to open would hurt as much as the one he’d just closed.
One way to find out, right?
Ryler Happens (35)
The Bridgeport Islanders’ bus looked as though someone had dug up a bunch of corpses, dressed them up in suits, and propped them up in its seats. With the exception of Rizz and a handful of other guys who hadn’t come, everyone was either half-dead or still drunk from Hayes’s birthday bash.
Ryan had ended up driving the Raptor to the arena, as he was the least banged up out of the trio. When he’d got down to the fourth floor, Osi answered. “Is not good here. So much vomit, all night long. Is like hospital ward.”
Hayes had shuffled over to the door wearing sunglasses, holding his travel bag in one hand and a garbage bag in the other. “I’m never gonna stop pukin’, Rook. I think I’m dyin’.”
“You’ll live. You can sleep on the bus ride.”
They pulled into the arena and parked in the underground lot. Ryan grabbed Hayes’s bag from him and set it down, as he immediately leaned his back against the truck upon getting out. “Rook,” he whimpered. “I’m gonna die.”
Ryan examined his friend, who looked like he’d gotten dressed while blindfolded with one hand tied behind his back. “No you’re not. Come here,” he said, as he grabbed the bottom of Hayes’s dress shirt and tucked it slowly and neatly into his pants, moving his hands up his chest to fix all the buttons, which he’d fastened in the wrong holes. “You’re such a mess right now.” He patted his shoulders, grabbed both of their bags, and led him by the arm to the bus.
They made their way to the back, passing by several guys who were already slumped over against the windows or onto each other and snoring. Taking the next to last row, Ryan grabbed the window seat, leaned his back against the glass, and bent one leg up on the cushion. He motioned for Hayes to sit between his legs, laying with his back pressed against Ryan’s chest, his head resting on his shoulder, and both of his knees bent with his feet up on the cushion. Ryan draped his arms across the front of Hayes’s body.
“Get some rest. It’s a good three-hour ride,” Ryan told him. “Let me know if you’re gonna puke, OK?”
“I love you, man,” Hayes mumbled, closing his eyes and settling in.
“Damn. You’re still at the ‘I love you, man’ level of fucked up? Ooh, it’s gonna be a long day,” Ryan joked, running his fingertips slowly across Hayes’s chest, but then stopping when he realized where he was and what he was doing.
