I'm almost done with my breakfast – Captain Crunch cereal with milk – when Maisie walks into the kitchen, passing by the table with a cheeky grin. I know exactly why she's smiling at me like a fool. She wants every dirty detail from my night with Liam; there are a few good details to share, but unfortunately, none of them are dirty. She sits down on the chair next to me, props her elbows on the table and cradles her chin in the palms of her hands.
"How was last night?" she asks. "You got home pretty late. What was it? Two in the morning when I heard you stumble in?"
I take another full bite of my cereal before I find my words, and even then, I don't answer her question. "We'll see if he sends me a text today."
She studies me for a beat before reaching for the cereal box across the table and pouring herself a bowl. "Did he say he would?"
I shrug. "Zero expectations equal zero disappointments."
Maisie rolls her eyes, pours milk into her bowl and takes a bite before asking, "Can you just be a normal girl for once and gush to your best friend about how awesome your night was with a hot and eligible Aussie?"
"There's nothing really to gush about," I say, holding my full spoon before smiling. "He's a nice enough guy, and we had a good day surfing. The concert was a great time too." I pause thoughtfully. "Once we finally had some alone time, things went well. We will see where it goes, if anywhere."
Every time there is potential for a new guy in my life, Maisie drills me with a hundred and one questions, desperate for me to say I am smitten and he's "the one." She's a relationship person who doesn't understand my need to be with myself until I find someone worth spending time with. Maisie is a sucker for romance, and I love that about her; it's just not me.
"Things went well? We will see where it goes?" she laughs. "God, Ella. It sounds like you had a nice dinner with your brother after you told him some bad news. Will you ever give a guy a chance?"
"I said he's a nice guy," I say and take a long sip of my coffee.
"He's also really hot," she leans back in her chair, smiling. "And that accent, well...it's hard to ignore."
"I do love the accent."
"Did he kiss you?" she asks.
"He did."
She frowns. "I need you to give me more than that."
"He gave me a good-night kiss," I say. "It was short, sweet, and nice."
She appears unsatisfied, eyebrows furrowed as she studies me. "What else did you guys talk about?"
"Life. Dogs. Music. Good places to eat. Normal shit..." I pause and look up from my bowl of cereal. "And oh yeah...how Ryan and Alodie are a mess."
"I could have told you a double date with Ryan and Alodie was a stupid idea."
Maisie gets up from her chair and walks over to the counter to pour herself a cup of coffee. She looks over at me, grinning as she takes her first sip like she's purposely prodding me. I keep a straight face and look past her through the kitchen window, her comment hanging awkwardly between us.
"I've gone on double dates with you and Jayce before."
"That's different," she says.
"How so?"
"It just is."
"No, it's not," my voice comes out a bit terser than I expected. "Explain yourself."
"You know what I think about your friendship with Ryan," she murmurs. "You two are just avoiding the inevitable, and deep down, you two have feelings for each other."
She blinks quickly as if her comment were just an innocent slip of the tongue. Her eyes move to my face, almost blatantly raising her eyebrows in my silence to prod me for a response. She's impressed with herself. Maisie thinks she's a know-it-all regarding relationships; I know exactly what she thinks, but I respectfully disagree.
"This is your hopeless romantic mentality kicking in," I tell her. "You know what I think? You are crazy. This is Ryan we are talking about."
"Guys and girls can't be just friends."
I set my spoon down and lean back in my chair. "Why not?"
"If I had a 'guy' best friend I spent all my time with, like you do with Ryan, Jayce would not approve," she says matter-of-factly. "It isn't realistic."
My phone vibrates on the table with a new text message.
"Liam?" she asks.
"No. Ryan." I say, shrugging. "I forgot to text him last night when I got home. I woke up to a bunch of missed text messages from him. I should probably text him back."
She hums, looking down at me.
"What?" I ask.
"I didn't realize you two checked in with each other."
"We don't. He cares about me like an older brother would care about his little sister."
Maisie shrugs, sipping on the rest of her coffee. "If you say so."
The sound of the front door clicking open causes Maisie's eyes to widen and dart in my direction. Someone just entered our apartment. Her face is so pale I'm worried she may pass out. I stand up, trying to keep it together with my heart racing.
"Jonesy?" I nearly collapsed when I heard Ryan's familiar voice shout my name from the foyer.
"Ryan?" I blow out a relieved breath.
Maisie mutters a curse word, clutching her palm to her heart just as he appears in the kitchen. Ryan looks like he hasn't had much sleep. He has dark circles under his eyes, and his hair is wavy and un-kept. He's wearing a wrinkly white t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants with flip-flop sandals on his bare feet. He looks like he just rolled out of bed.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Jonesy," he winces, dragging a hand through his hair. "I thought you were dead."
"How did you get a key to our apartment?" Maisie asks, flippant.
I look at her apologetically. "I gave him a key for emergency purposes only," I say and turn my attention to Ryan. If looks could kill, he'd be dead. I'm so busted because of him.
He offers a tiny shrug. "Thinking you were dead seemed like an emergency to me."
"We agreed not to give anyone a copy of our key," Maisie says, glaring in my direction. "Jayce doesn't even have a key because we made a promise."
I feel awful for not telling Maisie, but she doesn't understand that I needed to give Ryan a key. I always lock myself out of the apartment, and he is the only person I can trust besides her.
"I know, okay," I sigh. "But I forget my keys a lot. I needed a backup, and Ryan is supposed to hold it in a safe place for me, not using it."
Ryan leans against the counter and reaches into the cabinet for a mug. He turns, coffee pot in one hand and a mug in the other, pouring himself a whole serving. Maisie glares at me and then up at him.
"Maybe if you answered my texts, I wouldn't have had to use it," he says, taking a sip of coffee.
"Obviously, I made it home safe," I laugh. "Did you not see Liam this morning?"
He shakes his head. "No, I didn't actually. He wasn't in his bedroom when I woke up this morning, and you weren't answering my texts, so..."
With each second that ticks by, with him watching me over the mug's rim, I blush and feel guilty even though I have no reason to feel that way.
"He said he likes to go for early morning runs," I laugh. "That's probably why he was gone from the apartment."
"So..." Maisie drawls. "You decided to come here and make sure Ella was okay?"
"Yeah," he scratches his jaw and tilts his chin to me. "Sorry, I care."
"I was going to text you back," I say in a tight whisper.
Maisie places her mug in the sink, shifting her gaze between us. "I think I'm going to have a shower."
She slips out of the kitchen, and Ryan takes the opportunity to slide into an empty chair around the kitchen table, reach for the cereal box and pour himself a bowl.
"Please, make yourself at home," I say, sitting on the chair beside him.
He glances over at me. "Thor must have arrived late because I didn't hear him enter the apartment. That's not like you to put out on the first date."
"Pry much?"
"Did you?" he asks, completely serious.
"That's none of your business."
He takes a bite of cereal, chews and swallows before her asks, "Was it small?"
I pull my lip between my teeth, biting down my smile when I look back at him. "Jesus, Ryan."
"I heard those Aussies don't trim their bush. Must have been like finding a needle in a haystack."
If possible, his smile grows wider, and the dimple on his chin makes a spectacular appearance.
"He gave me a good night's kiss; that's all, okay?"
"Okay," he smiles and takes another bite of cereal.
"We had a couple of drinks at the bar. Great conversation, and then he dropped me off," I tell him. "He's a true gentleman, unlike someone I know."
Ryan laughs, mildly amused by my dig against him. He leans back in the chair, studying me.
"He's made it pretty clear he's into you," he says after a few beats of silence, his lips pulled down to one side in a frown.
"Can you blame him?" I ask, smiling. "I'm awesome."
"Liam's a nice guy and everything..." My chest squeezes at the earnest vulnerability in his expression. I swallow what feels like a bowling ball in my throat before he continues, "But do you want to get involved with some guy who bartenders for a living?"
"He's a teacher."
"On paper, maybe." Ryan's eyes flame with irritation. "But in reality, he's just an imported bartender."
I tilt my head to the side and frown at him. "Do you have a problem with me and Liam?"
"You just got out of a relationship with Ginger Jon," he deadpans. "Don't you think you're moving a little too lighting fast with Thor?"
"Everybody rebounds."
Ryan doesn't answer at first. He takes another few bites of cereal, his brow furrowed as he thinks hard about what he will say next.
"Okay, honestly..." he pauses and runs a hand down his face. "I don't think Liam is good enough for you. There. I said it." He leans forward, placing his face so close to mine that I can smell mint toothpaste on his breath.
I search his eyes for a few painful beats, seeing something vulnerable I never expected to see. It catches me off guard. "I can make that determination on my own," I say, and lean away from him, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
"Oh really." His eyes now manage to look amused.
"I don't need your blessing." I stand up and walk over to the coffee pot to pour myself another cup. "I appreciate you looking out for me, but I'm going to do what I want, just like you always do what you want."
Standing abruptly, he strides over to me and leans against the counter, staring down at me, his sandy hair falling on his forehead. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Come on," I laugh nervously. "You dating Alodie? She's honestly the worst."
"She's your friend," he laughs.
"Oh, she's my friend now?" I raise a brow. "The other day, you told me we just worked together."
He studies me for a long, quiet beat. "Come on, she means well."
I know when he says this, it shouldn't irritate me, but it does, so I retaliate with my best impression of Alodie to prove my point.
"Ryan! Lotion! Ryan! Vodka Water! Ryan! Selfie with me!" Of course, my voice is high-pitched, and I'm flailing my arms like a diva.
He laughs heartily and crosses his arms before his chest, studying me further.
"Jealously looks good on you," he winks. "I kind of like it."
"Please," I say as I eye him. "I am not jealous of Alodie."
Ryan nods, and after a few beats of silence, he runs a hand absentmindedly through his hair. When I turn away from him to wash a few dirty dishes in the sink, he sits at the kitchen table and finishes a bowl of cereal. Once I'm done tidying up, I turn off the faucet and dry my hands. I turn to see Ryan watching me.
"What are your plans for the day?" he asks.
"Nothing," I say with a smile. "What about you?"
He shrugs. "Zero plans on my end."
He pulls a vibrating phone from his pocket and hovers his finger over the answer button, internally debating whether to answer.
"Looks like you are thinking pretty hard there. Don't strain something."
He glances up at me and lets out a tense sigh. He dismisses the call and tucks his unanswered phone back into his pocket.
"My dad has been a real thorn in my side lately," he says. "I can't deal with him right now."
He gets up from the chair, and I follow him into the living room. He flops on the couch, and I sit beside him, our thighs pressed together.
"Is he still angry about your summer of fun in Australia?" I ask carefully. Ryan tells me a lot of things, but when it comes to his relationship with his dad, he can be closed off. I've only met Ryan's dad a handful of times. He's not a very affectionate man. He's all business, no smiles, and he expects a lot from Ryan.
"He's worried I want to bail on law school," he says, looking at me with a frown. "He's obsessed with me getting into Yale, like there is no other fucking law school in America."
I know his dad has it drilled in Ryan's head. Yale is where he is expected to attend post-graduation, but I've never understood why. So, this time, I boldly ask.
"What's so special about Yale anyway?"
"My grandfather went to Yale. My father went to Yale. My older brother Reggie went to Yale. And they will all tell you it's the best law school in the country. An Owen family tradition," he scoffs. "How could I possibly take over his law firm without a Yale law degree?" sarcasm drips from his voice.
It's strange to see this version of Ryan: tense, troubled, and sporting a five o'clock shadow because he was so worried that he rushed over here without putting himself together. Clearly, I'm not the only thing he's been worried about this morning.
"Sometimes I have no idea what I want anymore," he sighs. "Do I want to end up like my father? Working long hours, cranky as fuck, and schmoozing on a golf course with a bunch of corporate hounds?"
"That doesn't sound like you."
He blinks at me, surprised for a moment, before he grins.
"I know. It doesn't," he says, easing up a bit. "That's what I try to tell him, and Reggie and even Alodie, but no one gets it." He pauses, his eyes warm with sincerity when they find mine. "Except you. You get it, always." He lets out a sigh and leans his head against the back of the couch.
"You should do whatever makes you happy," I say, shifting on the couch and crossing my bare legs. "If going to Yale for some prestigious law degree isn't for you, then don't do it."
"It's not that simple."
"I think it is."
"Why don't you come with me?" he says, and my chest tightens.
Ryan is panicked about his future and needs to be thinking clearly. We've never really talked about what will happen post-graduation, but there is no way he is seriously asking me to move with him to Connecticut. He doesn't mean that, does he? I'm sure he's grasping at straws in his peril state right now.
I laugh off his absurd suggestion.
"Move with you to Connecticut? And do what? Sip cocktails at a country club all day long?" I pause, scanning his face. His expression was unreadable. "I already applied for a post-graduation internship with Disney in their animation department. Maybe you should just say fuck Connecticut and come with me to Burbank, California. You could attend UCLA and get a law degree."
He blinks a few times, a little taken aback. "When were you going to tell me that you applied for an internship with Disney?"
"I just told you," I say, and without realizing it, I place my hand on his knee, squeezing it. "Look, I'm not telling you what to do with your future. I'm saying that maybe you need to think long and hard about what you really want to do, not what your dad expects you to do. You can still go to law school. Not every lawyer is like your father. Get a law degree, but make a conscious effort not to be like him. Once you graduate, you could take on pro-bono cases for battered women or something like that to humanize your practice." Ryan glanced down at my hand before his brown eyes found mine. "Use your law degree for the greater good," I add.
"Connecticut is far from California," he murmurs.
"Airplanes are an excellent way of transportation," I assure him.
He moves to pull away, but I reach out, taking his hand in mine while he casually studies it. He looks at me and smiles. "Thanks, Captain Obvious."
I nod magnanimously. "That's what I'm here for."
He drops his hand from mine and leans back on the couch, getting comfy. He props up his feet on the coffee table and takes the remote from the empty cushion on his left. He gives me a knowing smirk. "Let's Sunday Funday. We both have a free day."
"What did you have in mind?" I ask, smiling.
"The usual," he says. "Binge watch Netflix till noon. Day drink on a patio. Lunch. Maybe some laser tag. I don't know...we can see where the day takes us."
"That sounds like a pretty awesome day," I smile. "I'm all in."
It occurs to me that Ryan has draped his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers comfortably grazing my shoulder. I look up to meet his gaze. He gives me a knowing smirk.
"Honestly, Jonesy..." he sucks him a ragged breath. "Call me lame or whatever..." he smiles down at me. "But sometimes I don't know what I'd ever do without you."