“Deep-dish is good,” I say. “But when Ryot took me to New York one year with him on an away trip, I spent my entire visit trying all the pizza I could. I became obsessed, and it set the bar higher for good pizza. So when we found Big Sal’s, we haven’t tried anywhere else.”
“Did you go on a lot of away trips with Ryot?” Huxley asks.
“After we were married, I did. Up until then, I went when my work schedule allowed.”
“Oh, what do you do?” JP asks. I should have known that was coming.
I hate this question. I hate it more than anything.
Because for some reason, our society has deemed it necessary to judge someone’s self-worth off their career. And I really haven’t had a career ever.
When I’m satisfied that everyone has pizza and a drink, I grab myself a slice of mushroom pizza just as Ryot pulls out the seat next to him. When I sit down, he rests his hand on my thigh. I quickly glance at him, but he doesn’t even bother to act like this is anything but normal. And I guess it’s normal for couples not fighting, not in the middle of a whirlwind of anger—not divorcing—but right now, it feels off. It feels off because his calloused palm is penetrating my icy exterior. He’s been on the go for the past few months, and I’m not sure he’s touched me like this in a while. It’s confusing.
“Well, right now, I’m still figuring out the career thing,” I say shyly because I’m sitting at a table with three men who have a clear-cut idea of their purpose. Two of them are billionaires, and Ryot is on the cusp. He’s invested wisely, very wisely, and now with his new venture, The Jock Report, he’s racking up the cash. “But before we got married, I was a server.” I shrug and take a bite of my pizza.
To my surprise, Ryot says, “She’s incredible at interior design and renovations. She has a clever eye for color, modern aesthetics, and mixing textiles.”
Where the hell did that come from? He’s never said anything like that. Then again, we are performing right now. Well, color me convinced because wow . . . it almost sounded like he meant it. And unfortunately, even if he didn’t mean it, it still leaves a mark on me because it’s something I wish I had heard from him more often.
“Really?” JP perks up. “I should get you to meet up with Kelsey. She’s into organizing sustainably. I bet you two would hit it off. She’s always looking for someone who’s as into interior design as her.”
“Oh yeah, that would be great,” I say with a smile, even though I don’t mean it. I have no intention of making friends, not when my future is up in the air.
Smoothing his hand over my thigh, Ryot continues the praise, “Myla’s always had a philanthropic heart too. That’s what she’s focused on the most before and after we moved to California.”
“That’s great,” Huxley says. “What organizations were you working with? We just started a non-profit under Cane Enterprises that JP oversees. We work with affordable housing in expensive cities. Starting in San Francisco, but we plan on expanding.”
“Yeah, I think Ryot mentioned something about that. That’s pretty great. I know the housing market has been insane lately with corporations coming in and taking over, so for you not to capitalize on it, but rather help others, you’re changing lives.”
“That’s the plan,” JP says while wiping his mouth. “So who did you work with?”
Ryot’s thumb glides over my skin, momentarily distracting me as the soft touch shoots a rocket of lust straight up my leg. What’s he doing? It’s not like the guys can see under the table.
Clearing my throat, I attempt to focus on my answer, not on the way Ryot’s touch is heating my body. “An organization in Chicago that helped families in desperate need of home makeovers for various reasons like needing wheelchair access, a deep cleaning, or just a fresh start. Renovate Chicago is the organization. It was so rewarding, and I loved it. But when we came out here, I had to pivot, so I’m still trying to figure out my next venture.” I feel Ryot’s eyes on mine as I answer. I can feel the questions forming on the tip of his tongue.
Having to leave Renovate Chicago is one of the primary causes of my bitterness, and why I’m so angry about moving to California. Because we weren’t supposed to leave Chicago. We were supposed to stay there after Ryot retired. We were supposed to settle down and think about buying a lake house where we could relax. Even consider starting a family. I loved our house, our neighborhood, my work with Renovate Chicago, and the reasoning behind what I was doing. I was close to Nichole who—fuck—might be sick again. Everything was in Chicago. And after having to move from place to place to place with my Air Force parents, all I wanted to do was settle. I wanted a place I could call home.
That was the plan.
Until Ryot stole that by retiring earlier than he wanted.
“You should really have her meet up with Kelsey,” Huxley says. “I bet they’d get along. Ryot was telling us it’s been hard adjusting to California. Finding your tribe, so to speak.”
My cheeks flush as I glance toward him. For someone I feel so ignored by, it’s unexpected to see how much he’s talked about me. “Yeah, you know how it is. Making friends with adults is hard.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” JP says as he takes a large bite of his pizza.
“It’s hard not to fall in love with Myla, though,” Ryot says as his hand slides up higher on my thigh, kissing the opening of my robe. His fingers curl inwardly, and I catch myself gasping quietly from the feel of his strong hand. “Once she gets comfortable in her surroundings, there’s no doubt she’ll make friends. It’s something she’s so good at since she grew up in a military household.”
“Oh really?” Huxley asks. “What branch of service?”
Ryot’s pinky brushes up toward my underwear line, and I clamp my teeth over my lip, suppressing a moan.
“Air Force,” he answers for me. “She’s been all around the country. Illinois, Nebraska, Colorado, New Mexico, Ohio, and Arizona, which is where we met.”
Can’t believe he remembered all those states. I can barely keep up with where I’ve been.
“Ah, so you have experience moving,” JP asks. “So this move must have been easy?”
Ryot’s pinky is now stroking along the seam of my thong, not even bothering to be covert. My body is turning into a raging inferno, billowing heat in the pit of my stomach and then shooting through my veins. What the fuck is he doing? I thought he’d stop this after the last time.
“It was actually the hardest,” I answer before Ryot can. And when I feel his gaze, I decide to light him up the way he’s lighting me up, but for him . . . it will be different. “I was happy in Chicago, settled. You should have seen our house. Gorgeous. Once a mid-century modern near Lake Michigan, I spent time renovating it to keep the architecture of the era but add a modern twist. We had these expansive windows in the living room that allowed a brilliant amount of light in, even on Chicago’s gloomiest days. Mature oak trees surrounded our parcel, almost making it feel like we were living in a forest in the middle of the city. But you know, duty calls, right? Ryot was presented with an opportunity he couldn’t possibly refuse and took advantage of it, and here we are.” I gesture toward the coastal-style house that we’re now living in. It’s beautiful, but it barely has any personality, and that just adds to the depression of our move.