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Me:How about we check out that new seafood place this weekend?
Silence.
Me:Jayden?
Nothing but the digital echo of my own voice.
Hmph—that favorite sound of mine is back—trying to brush off the sting.
I lean back in the booth, close my eyes, and let the night before wash over me. Our nightly phone call had felt off. She'd been distant. We talked about mundane things—her shift at Sand Dunes, the Renegades' practice schedule. Not once did she mention 'us' or 'future'. No playful jabs about stealing my hoodies or teasing plans for a weekend getaway.
I take a deep breath in, attempting to reset. Unfortunately, the ache remains. It a good reminder that even surrounded by my team, my friends, I stand alone.
I haven't got a damn clue how to bridge this widening gap between Jayden and me that’s rapidly growing.
"Ryder?" Dakota's voice breaks into my thoughts, his brow furrowed. "You've been staring at your phone for the past ten minutes."
"Nothing important," I say, snapping back to reality, or at least the version of it where I play the part of the guy who's got his shit together.
"Looked pretty damn important from here," Kaleb notes, leaning back with an expression that is call me out.
"Ah, just... stuff I gotta do." The lie tastes bitter, but it's easier than admitting that I'm lost in a sea of unread texts and unspoken words.
"Stuff, huh?" Asher quips, but there's no real bite to it.
"Yep, stuff," I confirm and stand.
"Alright then, if you've got to jet, we'll catch you later." Dakota offers me a nod, and I can tell he's not buying it, but he lets it go anyway.
"See you guys at practice," I manage, already turning away from their curious stares.
My exit isn't graceful; it's hurried. The door swings shut behind me, and the cold reality outside tries to clear my head. It's a futile attempt.
"Fuck!" I mumble probably loud enough for people in the parking lot to think I’m crazy. My hands jam into the pockets of my jacket as I make my way to the Jeep.
It's like I'm walking away from what I thought would be something great with someone, each step heavier with the weight of what I'm not dealing with. Jayden's distance. My own denial. The fact that avoidance seems like the best damn option at this point because what else is there? Confrontation? Heart-to-heart? Not exactly my style.
I climb inside my Jeep and let out a long breath, trying to shake off the feeling of dread that's settled in my chest. Maybe it's time to face some hard truths, but not tonight. Tonight, I've got 'stuff' to do, whatever the hell that means.
I navigate the dark, winding road back to my place. The dashboard glows a soft blue. I'm halfway home when my phone buzzes in the cup holder, shattering the silence. The screen shines Jimmy's name and hit the speaker button.
"Raines! Where the hell you been, man? You've missed the last three MMB parties," Jimmy's voice booms through the speakers, laced with concern.
"Been busy," I reply.
"Too busy for a night of fun? That's not what you signed up for with our services," he reminds me.
"Things change," I say, the words tasting like stale beer on my tongue.
"Sure they do. Come on, you paid good money for this. The next party is this Friday. You're in, right?" He keeps pushes.
I don't answer immediately, my mind drifting to Jayden. Could she handle my needs, the darker cravings that Match Me Bunny catered to so well? Was that the chill in her touch, the frost in her voice—a fear of what I might ask of her?
"Ryder?" Jimmy prompts, and I realize I've been silent too long.
"Maybe," I hedge, knowing full well I won't go. Not this time. Maybe not ever again if it means losing Jayden completely.
"Alright, bro. I'll put you down as a maybe. Don't be a stranger, though, alright?"
