“No sense sharing the past with someone who you don’t see a future with.”
How the hell did he get so smart?
He hops down from the counter. “Right, well, I’m outta here.”
“Ryder. It’s Sunday.” He’s been blowing me off for weeks, and after the showdown in the kitchen this morning, I’d think he’d want to go with me.
“Yeah, I know, but I made plans and . . .” He shrugs.
I never wanted to be the kind of parent who forced things on their kids. What’s important to me isn’t as important to him, and I should respect that. “You sure you don’t want to come?” I give him one last chance and hope he gives the right answer.
“Yeah.” He keeps his eyes to the floor and skirts by me. “See ya this afternoon.”
With a deep breath to push past the heavy weight that presses against my chest upon hearing Ry’s answer, I head back to my room. Eve’s on the couch, folded over and putting on her shoes. Her hair hangs in long damp strands over her shoulders.
“How was your shower?” I move to her but sit in the club chair rather than on the couch next to her out of fear that I’ll pull her into my lap and drag her to my bed.
Her eyes are bright and sparkle in my direction. “I’ve had better.” She bites her lip, and I groan as a smile twitches its way to the surface.
“Good to know.”
She finishes with her shoes and sits up with a double slap to her black-slacked thighs. “If you don’t mind dropping me off at the Slade’s, I’ve got to scour the Sunday paper for a new job.”
Shit. With all the drama that unfolded this morning, I forgot about her losing her job. “Damn, that’s right.”
“I don’t even know how to apply for a job. It’s been so long.” She gathers her hair at her nape, twisting and flipping until it’s in a nice tight ball.
I lean forward, and my fingers itch to push her wet bangs back from her eyes.
“But first.” She motions to her oxford shirt and black pants. “I’m going to burn my uniform clothes. Then I need to polish up my resume, and by polish, I mean write one. I have to call my landlord and beg him not to evict me then get online and figure out what the hell I’m going to do with my life.” She flashes me a bright smile that’s so bright it’s dark.
“Let me help you with some of that.”
“You gonna give me a job?” Her sarcastic smile turns hopeful.
I never thought about giving Eve a job, but I’m sure I could find something for her to do until she gets on her feet. I’ll give it some thought, but until then . . . “Maybe, but first let me pay your rent for the month, get you caught up on bills, put you back in the black.”
Her eyes get so big they look as if they might pop out of her pretty face. “You tryin’ to Sugar Daddy me?”
I shrug. “I wouldn’t call it that, no.”
“I can’t, but thanks. It’s too weird, and we’ve just starting hanging out. It’s a sweet offer, and I know a million different people would call me stupid for saying no, but thanks anyway.”
“Pride is a dangerous thing. You need the help; let me give it to you.”
She stands and grabs her purse. “You remember what I told you about my dad?”
Of course, how could I forget? “Yeah.”
“I don’t want to be him.”
I blink, shocked and equally proud that Eve would take charity as an absolute last resort, if at all. She’s doing everything in her power to stay on her feet or go down swinging: a girl after my own values.
She takes a few steps closer, head tilted and eyes on me. “I’ll figure this out and do what I need to, but it has to be me.”
I hate it, but, damn, I fucking admire it. “Fine.” Standing, I pull her into my arms. “But you promise me if you’re on the verge of losing the roof over your head, you take my offer.”
“I can’t—”
I squeeze her tightly. “Yvette.”
“Fine.” A long sigh slides from her lips. “Bossy.”
“Atta girl.”
Her body melts into mine, and I grin at how even the slightest positive enforcement seems to affect her. And even with the weight of her body in my arms, decompression lightens my chest again. For a split second, my legs wobble with the force of it, and for the first time since the last time I dropped, I worry this lightening will knock me off my feet.
Twenty-Four
Eve
“This is bad ass.” Ryder throws an arm around my shoulder for a side hug. “I can’t believe I’m backstage at The Blackout.”
I tilt my head back to see his face. Even though he’s only seventeen, he’s at least six inches taller than I am. “I’m happy it worked out and we got you in.”