My cell stays silent.
"You have another flight in thirty-six hours." He hits a fork in the road, turns left, toward the airport. "You'll be fine if you miss it."
"A flight next to Ryan."
"Gives you time to talk."
I shake my head.
"He has time to make this one."
My eyes go to the clock. He doesn't. I'm barely going to make this flight and it's the last one out of Maui. At least, the last direct flight to LAX. "There's no way he's missing the wedding."
"Want to bet?"
"Not everything needs to be a bet."
Dean laughs. "That's where you're wrong."
"Okay, fine. I bet. Twenty bucks."
He shakes his head. "If you're wrong, you stay at Inked Hearts."
"I'm leaving in a month." The words are heavy on my tongue. It's different now that it means no more Ryan. And that means no more Dean or Walker or Brendon. Or even Emma or Kaylee.
No more laughing at my friend's stupid jokes.
No more studying Ryan's work.
No more taunting him with miserable music. Or teasing him about being serious. Or eating the lunches he makes me. Or fixing his coffee. Or fucking him on the counter.
No more Ryan.
Forever.
Without Ryan, my future is an ugly, grey place.
My life is dull and empty.
I have Iris. But all my other friends are ours. All my hobbies are wrong. Running is ours. Movies are ours. Swimming is ours. Romance novels—
Fuck romance novels.
"So stay the month." Dean's bouncy voice fills the car. Pulls me back to the moment. "If you're that sure."
"What do I get?"
"Whatever you want."
Maybe there's some way he can convince Ryan to love me. They are brothers. They share something…
I swallow hard. Think of something that might give me the tiniest hint of satisfaction. "I want you to go a month without sex."
Horror spreads over his expression.
But it does nothing to thrill me. Teasing Dean is usually fun. But this isn't. All I see when I look at him is Ryan's eyes. They're a little darker. A little deeper.
Still, I play along. "Including masturbation."
"Did it for six fucking weeks after I got my cock pierced."
"I try not to think about your cock."
He nods. "You're on."
I shake his hand, but there's no enthusiasm in it.
I'm out of enthusiasm.
Chapter Forty-Six
Ryan
Penny wraps her fingers around her glass of bourbon. She holds it up to toast. "I'm not sure what I should say."
I'm not sure why she's here. The ten minutes I bought myself changing in the bathroom did nothing to illuminate her motivations.
I should probably tell her to go fuck herself.
But there's this doubt lingering in my gut.
I need to be sure.
I clink my glass with hers. "To commitment."
She lets out a nervous laugh. "To forever." She brings her glass to her lips and downs half of it.
It's good bourbon. Three hundred dollar a bottle top-shelf shit. Rich. Oak. Leather.
It might as well scream the manliest fucking drink around.
That was why I got into it. Seemed like a man's drink. Like most seventeen-year-old boys, I was desperate to prove I was a man.
Penny sits on the couch and crosses her legs.
She smooths her ivory dress.
She looks every bit the bride to be. Glowing, nervous, happy.
But she's in my hotel room.
That's not a good fucking sign.
Her honey eyes fix on mine. They fill with nostalgia. "You remember the first time we snuck some of Daddy's bourbon?"
"I said I loved it, chugged a glass, spent the night throwing up." Fuck, that was miserable.
She laughs. "You made it half an hour."
"You still went out with me."
"I liked you."
"Was it the dry heaving that did it?"
"No. It was you. All those things that are still you. The intensity in your eyes. The way I can always tell you're thinking something deep and meaningful. The way you never give up on what you want. You're principled and uncompromising to a fault. And you're… You were everything I wanted then."
What the hell is she getting it?
"Sorry. I'm getting nervous." She takes a long sip. "Only twenty hours to go now."
"It must be scary."
She nods.
"Frank is good for you."
Her expression gets contemplative. She stares into her glass like it contains all the secrets to the universe.
I take a seat next to her.
She turns toward me. Finishes her bourbon and drinks me in instead. "Where's Leighton?"
I try to find a lie and come up blank.
Penny's gaze darts around the room. The clean dresser. The sparse floor. The utter lack of Leighton's bright pink suitcase. She studies my expression, looking for cracks. "She left."
"She's just—"
"Is it over?"
"I don't know."
"Because of me?"
"Is that what you want?"
Her brow furrows. "Of course not."
"Then what the fuck are you doing?"
Her fingers brush my thigh. It's a quick thing. Then it's not. She rests her entire hand on my thigh. "Ryan, I…"
I freeze.
"I miss you." Her eyelids press together. She leans in. She leans close enough to kiss me.
I wrap my fingers around her wrist. Pull her hand back.
She jumps back. "Oh. I'm sorry." Hurt flares in her expression. "That was… I… I don't know."
Bullshit.
"I wasn't—"
"You were."
Her cheeks flush. It's not a blush of desire. It's embarrassment. "Don't tell Frank."
"I don't give a fuck about Frank."
"But—"
"You do this a lot?"
"No. Never."
I believe her. Somehow, I can tell she's being honest. She learned her lesson destroying me. Decided not to do it again.
Maybe I should be bitter.
But I'm not.
"You're scared. You're panicking. But I'm not gonna help you run away from your fiancé," I say. "If that's what you want, find someone else."
"I don't."
"You sure?"
"No. What if I'm wrong? What if he isn't enough? If I'm not enough?"
"How do you feel now, when you think about him?"
"Happy."
"When you think about celebrating your ten-year anniversary?"
Her lips curl into a smile.
"Seeing kids in boat shoes and Dockers playing soccer on the weekends."
"They're playing soccer in their boat shoes?"
"Yeah. They want to dress like daddy."
She laughs. "The Dockers too?"
"Of course."
"How are they running?"
"They aren't. They suck. But they're eight. They're gonna suck no matter what."