She’d always been a night owl. She was the one who wanted to watch movies well into the middle of the night or party until the sun came up. She was impossible to wake up in the morning, and swore she was at her best once the stars came out at night.
If this were a normal visit, I would have given her a load of shit for just getting home when dawn was breaking, but the truth was, nothing had changed. I was up with the sun for practice, or to study, or to help Daire with her homework when I still lived at home. When Bowe was in town for any length of time, my schedule inevitably got all screwed up and out of whack. I used to blame my constant irritation with everything she did on being tired, but I doubted the assertion fooled anyone. I was still cranky and irritable where she was concerned, even when I got a good night’s sleep.
Once I found the bathroom, I started the shower and climbed under the spray. I turned the water to scalding hot and scrubbed what was left of the sleep out of my eyes. I let the discontent that nearly swallowed me whole last night wash down the drain. I needed to get my head on right and figure out what I was doing in Texas instead of staying in Denver and smoothing things over with Aston. I was logical enough to know it wasn’t easy for her to tell me we were over. I was also smart enough to know if she’d kept her college choice not only from me and Daire, but her brother as well, there was a deeper reason behind it. She might not want to be with me in a romantic way any longer, but we’d been friends forever, and I cared about her immensely. Even if she didn’t love me anymore, she should still trust me. I was sure she was hurting just as badly as I was, just in a different kind of way. And she should know it wasn’t like me to ditch anyone who might need me, even if that someone had ripped my heart out and handed it back to me bloody and battered.
It made no sense that instead of being there to assure Aston everything would be all right; I ran to the one person who was going to have zero sympathy for my dumb ass. I vaguely remembered feeling like I couldn’t breathe all night until I finally saw Bowe. I was choking on my own unfamiliar emotions, but as soon as she touched my face and those honey eyes locked onto mine, the invisible claws shredding my insides didn’t seem nearly as sharp. What sense did it make that she was the only person who could rile me up and calm me down with no effort? I always felt like she was playing with me, that I was nothing more than a toy she could wind up and send spinning when she was bored. She put me on a shelf and forgot all about my existence when it was convenient for her. It was one of the main reasons our relationship hovered close to being contentious.
I was just stepping out of the shower when I heard the doorbell followed by a series of rapid knocks on the front door. I waited for a minute to see if Bowe would wake up, but there wasn’t any movement from the end of the hallway where her bedroom was. Like I said, she was impossible to wake up, no matter how insistent her visitor seemed to be.
Swearing under my breath, I pulled on a pair of track pants and scrubbed a towel over my wet hair while stomping toward the door. According to my phone, it was already late into the afternoon, which would explain why I felt so discombobulated, and why my stomach was suddenly growling. I never slept this late, regardless of circumstances.
I pulled the door open without checking who was on the other side; I was sure there was no way Bowe’s dad would let her live alone without all the possible security measures. She was bound to have one of those recording doorbells and an alarm system, so it was unlikely I would get murdered once I opened the teal door.
If looks could really kill, the way the dude on the other side was glaring at me would have me six feet under.
I flicked the towel around my neck and lifted an eyebrow at the heavily tattooed visitor. “Can I help you?”
He looked like the typical kind of guy who always circled around Bowe. He was tall and skinny. Both his arms were tattooed down to his fingers. His shaggy hair was an odd mix of jet-black roots and lilac strands cut in an intentionally messy style. He had several big, heavy earrings dangling from each ear, and more rings on his fingers than a repeat Super Bowl winner. He wasn’t bad looking by any stretch of the imagination, but he was such a cliché ‘band dude’ that I wanted to laugh. He looked like every other guy Bowe played around with since she’d been old enough to date. Half the time, I wondered if they were just trying to cos-play as her dad since so many had a similar style. She got mad when I asked her why she kept going after the same type when none of them ever seemed to stick around for very long.
“Who are you?” The question was barked at me in a cold tone as I used one corner of the towel to clean some residual water out of my ear.
I tilted my head a little and tried to knock it out when the towel didn’t work. I watched him watch me, his angry gaze sliding over my half-dressed form that was as different from his as night and day.
He was tall, but I was almost a giant. I definitely got my Uncle Rome’s height. Both Zowen and I were a couple inches taller than all the men in our family, except for my dad’s older brother.
I’d never been skinny. I’d played sports since I was young and was blessed with really good genes. I’d always been fit and in good shape, but as I got older and more dedicated to football and my health, I was ripped. I knew it. Anyone who looked at me with or without clothes on knew it.
He had me beat when it came to ink in terms of quantity, but no one could touch me when it came to quality. I didn’t have a body full of ink, I didn’t want to relive all my memories through images on my skin, but I did have one intricate, detailed piece my father worked on over a period of time once I was old enough. It started out as a way for me to try and relate to him, to understand him and figure out what made him tick, and turned into one of the few experiences we shared where I felt like we finally got closer. It was something he gave me that I would have with me forever. So even though tattoos had never been as big a part of my life as they were for so much of my extended family, I felt like I had a good grasp as to why they were so special and important to so many people, and why they could show the world who someone was without words.
He cleared his throat and shifted his weight on his feet as we continued to stare at one another. Again, he demanded to know, “Who in the hell are you? I’ve never seen you before, and I spend pretty much all my free time with Bowe.”
I straightened my head and gave it a shake, sending water flying everywhere. “Are you her boyfriend?”
If so, it would explain why he was envisioning tearing my head from my body and not bothering to hide it.
I saw him start to nod just as a raspy voice with a soft Texas twang drifted up from behind me.
“No. He’s not my boyfriend. But he is my friend, and we’re in a band together.” I felt Bowe put her hand on my bare shoulder as she shoved me to one side to peer out the open door. “Why did you answer my front door half-naked, Ry? And what are you doing here, Nyle? We don’t have plans today.”
Bowe’s bright hair was a tangled mess on top of her head. She was still wearing the same outfit she’d had on last night when I showed up unannounced. She was always a little rough around the edges, which was annoying because she was such a pretty girl, but it was pretty cute when she was rumpled and sleepy. It reminded me of another time and place when I was the reason her hair ended up wild and snarled. I could clearly recall just how soft and silky it felt in my hands and how fucking sexy it was when the neon strands dragged across my skin.