"Perhaps I should go back," Mariah whispered, glancing over her shoulder. "Ryan might need me to run interference."
"Mike will do it. Besides, it's not your job anymore, remember?"
She did, but it wasn't easy. Having Ryan in the same room, sitting right next to her, overrode all the good reasons they weren't together.
And they were good reasons. She had lots of them.
If only she could think of a couple...
Wait. She had one.
He was a stubborn jerk about his parents, and he needed a sharp kick to his shin. She just might be the person to do it, too.
19
This was one of those nights when Ryan barely recognized himself. Everything had been going smoothly at dinner and then...bam. Tense words were exchanged. This time he couldn't blame it on his father. This was all on him. He'd escalated the situation and ruined everyone's digestion.
He simply couldn't seem to stop himself from saying something that would piss his dad off. Of course, Jack didn't truly know if Skip was aware of Brad's gambling but if that's what his father wanted to believe, who was Ryan to knock over that apple cart? He should have just let it go but he hadn't, opening his big mouth instead and challenging his old man.
Jack Beck never backed down from a challenge. Neither did Ryan.
It looked like Mariah had been right about that one. He had quite a bit in common with his dad after all. In fact, Mariah had been correct about a lot of things, including that Ryan wasn't blameless for the tension between him and his parents. Looking back, he'd carried at least half of the load. Jack and Patricia were only fifty percent to blame. Now he had a hell of a lot of thinking to do about the relationship with his parents. If he could change a bit...let things go...
Everything always had to be your way. You couldn't compromise, ever.
Mariah's words haunted him. She'd told him when they'd broken up, and then she'd told him again that first night he'd been in her apartment. How many times did he need to hear it before he believed it?
A whole bunch, apparently.
He had changed over the years but when he was back with his parents it was like he was a kid again. And he was acting like it. He needed to straighten up and act like the man he professed to be. He didn't know how he was going to fix his tattered relationship with his mom and dad, but at least now he knew he wanted to.
Realization had hit him between the eyes and that's the only explanation for why he was now standing in the middle of his childhood bedroom. It wasn't like he hadn't seen it in years. He didn't stay in it when he visited for the holidays - that's what the apartment was for - but it was a handy place to retreat to when family get-togethers became a little too much.
Tonight, however, it felt like he was seeing this room through fresh eyes.
His parents hadn't changed much, if anything from when he'd moved out during college. His sports trophies were still sitting on the shelf above his desk, and his favorite books sat on the bookcase. A quick swipe of his finger down the oak surface told him that the housekeepers were cleaning his room even though he wasn't here. The shelves, books, and trophies were completely dust free.
So many memories crowded his brain as he stood there, taking his past all in. Images of Liza and himself, hiding in his room to wrap Christmas presents, long nights sitting at the old computer studying, and his friends crowding in on his sixteenth birthday to play video games and eat pizza. He wouldn't mind traveling back for a day or two, just to feel like a kid again, when everything seemed possible and worries were what grownups had.
"What are you doing in here?"
Ryan turned at the voice but he already knew who it was. Mariah. She'd come looking for him, and to be honest, he'd expected it.
Shit, who was he kidding? He was hoping for it.
Because of all the images that kept running through his brain the most technicolor were of Mariah in this room, laughing and happy. They'd been happy. When had it all changed?
"I needed space," he finally replied when she didn't say anything else.
She walked into the room, quietly closing the door behind her. "They're wondering where you are."
"I know. I just wanted some quiet for a few minutes."
Stepping back, she reached for the doorknob. "I can leave you–"
"No," he interjected swiftly. "I don't want you to go."
"You want me to stay?"
She seemed confused by his statement. He didn't blame her in the least. He was pretty fucking confused himself, but at this moment he wanted her with him.
"I want you to stay."
"Okay." She came to stand by him, her gaze on the bookshelf he was studying. "Are we looking for something in particular?"
Yes, but not a book.
"I'm looking for where it all changed. Can you tell me when that happened because I just don't know."
"What are you thinking changed?"
"Everything. We were happy together and then we weren't. Apparently, it was because I'm a total asshole and have to have everything my way. I can see that now and I thought I'd changed these past years. I thought I was better. Then tonight happened and I think that maybe I haven't changed at all."
She turned toward him, placing her hand on his arm to tug him so they were looking into each other's eyes. He had vivid memories of staring into those bright green and gold orbs on more than one occasion. When Mariah was happy, they'd turn a dark forest green and when she was aroused, they'd turn more golden. Those memories were keenly sharp. He could easily recall every freckle and mole on her satiny soft skin. He'd kissed every one of them more times than he could count. Where they still there?
I want to know.
"You're not an asshole and you have changed."
"You can't know that. I've only been home a few days."
She shook her head and smiled. "The Ryan Beck I knew and loved before would never have asked these introspective questions about himself. He never would have doubted whether he was doing or saying the right thing. He was always supremely sure of himself at all times. It could be very annoying."
"I don't annoy you now?"
"You do, but in completely new and different ways."
The way she said it, lovingly and not in the least bit pissed off, had him laughing. She had always been funny along with challenging and even now she wasn't giving him an out. She still held him accountable for his bullshit.
"I hope those new ways are better than the past ones."
"They are." She tugged at his shirt sleeve. "Will you cut yourself some slack? You have changed, Ryan. More than I ever thought possible. But I think you expect perfection. Wait, that was a stupid statement. I don't think it, I know it. I know that you expect perfection from yourself but that might be a tad unrealistic since you're, you know, human and all. You're allowed to have some flaws as long as being a sociopathic killer isn't one of them."
"You make me sound like a fucking mess."
She softly laughed. "You haven't figured it out yet, have you? Ryan, we're all a mess. Every single one of us. We're all just trying to get through life without ripping our hair out and retreating into our rooms to draw pretty pictures with non-toxic crayons. You're not special. You're just as screwed up as the rest of us. Welcome to life. Once you let go of your delusions of perfection, you'll be a hell of a lot happier. I know that everyone around you will be a lot happier."