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But I don’t have it in me to stop him either, so I remain quiet as he lathers his shampoo in my hair and rinses it out. I love the fact that I’ll smell like him after. A peaceful silence surrounds us, our bodies taking the lead instead through gentle touches and caresses as he washes my body.
Home, safety, love, my mind screams at me while he takes the utmost care in drying me off, making sure no inch of skin has a single droplet on it.
I know, I whisper back to my brain.
I need to make sure he never knows, or this will all end sooner than I want it to.
I know I’m fooling myself, because either way, there will be an end to this, but I want him in any capacity for as long as I can have him. Which means my feelings need to stay locked up for now until it’s time to part. Only then can those feelings break free while breaking me in the process.
Dans quoi est-ce que je me suis embarquée?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ryker
“
W
hat kind of popcorn do you want tonight? Cinnamon sugar, dill pickle, hot chili…” my mom lists off different flavors as she prepares for our weekly movie night.
During the baseball season, it becomes more like once every two weeks or so, but we do our best to make it work. We’re all we’ve ever had. Well, until now, I guess, considering she’s getting married soon.
I’ll be standing as her man of honor, while Aurora will be the flower girl, with Nate as the best man. She and Paul want a small wedding consisting of immediate family and a few friends, which is why they’re forgoing traditional bridal parties.
I can hardly wait, just ecstatic at the idea of someone else being able to hurt my mom and turn their backs on us.
Can you sense my sarcasm?
“Ryker.” My mom raises her voice, taking me out of my head.
“Hot chili please. Do you need help?” I ask, getting off the couch and heading to the kitchen to help her regardless of her answer.
When I enter the open kitchen space, I find her setting spices and oils on the counter while the kernels start to pop on the wok.
Her brown eyes roll at the sight of me, but her lips are fighting a smile. “I don’t need any help. Get out of here.” She attempts to usher me away, but I remain planted.
“I’ll watch the popcorn while you mix the dressing.”
I never let my mom do anything alone and always try to help in any capacity I can.
“You played great last night. Your arm is looking stronger than ever,” she comments while adding chili oil to a mixing bowl. She’s never missed a home game, always in the stands cheering me on ever since I picked up a glove and a ball.
“Thanks, Mom. I feel great, probably the best season start for me to date.”
She picks up some cayenne pepper and adds it into the bowl. As she mixes the spice and oil, she glances at me with a perched brow. “You seem lighter out there too.”
The kernels are popping one after the other, filling the space between her comment and my response because I’m not sure what she’s alluding to.
“Coach says I’ve put on ten pounds of muscle—”
“No, Bear.” She chuckles, using the nickname she gave me as a child. “I mean, you look happier than I’ve ever seen you before. Is there something else or…someone perhaps?”
I shake the wok, ensuring all the kernels are being popped as I think of what to say. She’s not wrong. This is the happiest I’ve been.
“Nope, just excited for the draft and to be done with school,” I tell her as I transfer the popcorn into a large bowl. And being around the girl who radiates sunshine might be a plausible clause as well. But I’ll never admit that out loud, for fear that it’ll make whatever I’m feeling become real.
“I’m so proud of you. Draft or no draft, you’re my greatest accomplishment.”
