Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
“For?”
“For this. For being patient with me, seeing the best in me, understanding me.”
“Hell, Ry,” I said with a chuckle. “I never said I understood you.”
“Well thank you for wanting to,” he replied before a smile lit up his face. “Twat.”
We spent the next hour on the couch watching reruns of Friends and eating Ryder’s last bag of Maltesers (a richer, and I have to say nicer version of Whoppers) that Sawyer and Jake brought back when they went to the UK to see the rebuild. He lay with his head on my lap and I had one arm draped tenderly over his waist. Ryder was a year older than me but I couldn’t help feeling protective of him, like the only reason I was given life was to care for him, keep him safe.
“We should go out tomorrow,” Ryder suggested, flipping onto his back and looking up at me.
“Oh yeah?” I said, weaving my fingers through his hair. “Where?”
“Just out. Bend, Kaleidoscope… anywhere. I miss the scene I guess. Just want things to get back to normal.”
“Normal except for the part where you suck guys off in the dark rooms I hope,” I joked with a sharp wink.
“Yeah, apart from that.”
“Well sure. We should ask the other guys too.”
“Cool. I’ll tweet everyone later.”
“You should ask Sawyer and Jake too.”
“And Elle and Kip, and of course Matt will no doubt be up for it.”
“Maybe we should do it Saturday after I’ve been to Mark’s. Give people time to make plans.”
“Sure.” Ryder shrugged. “I’m down with that.”
Smiling, I leaned down to kiss his forehead, only to be interrupted by the sound of Ryder’s cell ringing.
“Ugh,” he grumbled, grudgingly sitting up and plucking his cell from his pocket. “Hey, Ivan,” he answered after glancing at the screen. “Sure…Mmhmm…Yep…Wow, that sounds amazing…Oh, I’m not sure about that…I dunno…In London? I’ll think about it…Who else are you asking? Right, cool…I promise I will…Sure…Thanks, Ivan…Ok…Catch you later…Bye.”
“What was that about?” I probed after watching Ryder set his cell down on the table in front of us.
“Ivan wants to do a tour to coincide with the release of the Hard Love DVD next month. Wants us to go.”
“Okaaaay…” I elongated the word, confused by the unsure tone of Ryder’s voice. “So what’s the problem? Sounds like an amazing opportunity.”
“He’s made plans to visit London. I’m just not too sure how I feel about that.”
“But London’s your hometown. I don’t understand?”
“It’s also the place in the world that holds the worst memories for me. Plus, my fucking parents live there.”
“It’s a big city, Ry. You don’t have to see them if you don’t want.”
“Hmm,” was the only sound that left his mouth. I studied his face, perplexed as I watched his eyebrows knit together and his lips sink into a frown.
“Unless…you want to see them?”
“I don’t know.” He sighed, slouching forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “Not my dad particularly. He’s a fucking arsehole. But my mum…I could be completely wrong but part of me has always suspected she’s, I don’t know, afraid of him. Like, she just goes along with everything he says because she’s not brave enough to stand up to him, stand up for me. I have a whole new life now, whole new family. I think part of me just wants to know if she will ever be a part of it, or if it’s time to let go for good.”
“Then I think you know what to tell Ivan.”
“Trouble is, I’m completely fucking terrified.”
“She’s your mom, Ry.”
“Exactly. Since hitting my teens I’ve felt like such a failure to her. Sometimes even hated her because of how ashamed of me she was, or how she always took my dad’s side over mine. But you’re right, she is my mum, and the possibility she might choose to walk away for good than stand up to my father really fucking hurts.”
“You know, maybe if they knew wh-”
“No,” he interrupted firmly. “No way in hell will they ever know what I think you’re suggesting.”
“Even so, if you just talked to them, explained how much you needed them and they weren’t there, told them that you miss them and want to start again…”
“I don’t miss them,” he snapped. “At least, not the latter years. I miss the parents I remember from my childhood. The ones who took me on amazing holidays, football matches, safari parks. I miss the dad who would let me stand on his feet and wrap my arms around his waist when I was tired of walking, or the mum who would buy bags of popcorn so we could have ‘movie night’ on the living room floor when my dad was away on business. I can’t say my childhood was bad at all, it was only when I grew up, when I was old enough to know I was gay that everything went to shit. They’re ashamed of me, disgusted by me, and I might just have to accept that’s how it will always be. And that is what terrifies me.”