Reveal (Wicked Ways #2)(22)

“So what’s it going to be, Vaughn?” He waits for a beat, and he hisses out in frustration when I don’t respond at his prompting. When I don’t let my body and heart win the war they’re fighting against my head. “Goddamn stubborn woman,” he mutters before striding off in the same direction he came from.

I lean my head back against the wall in a sad attempt to let my racing pulse decelerate and my mind tell my heart to forget him.

Funny thing is, I’m lying to both of them.

Ryker Lockhart is right. He’s not a man who’s easily forgotten.

“When I said get laid, I didn’t mean by him,” Archer mutters beneath his breath when I finally return to my seat.

My cheeks blush automatically. “We didn’t. I didn’t—I—”

“Well you’re all flustered, and he waltzed in here with that alpha-male, take-no-prisoners look on his face, so I just assumed there was some hot bathroom-counter sex going on somewhere in the lobby—”

“No.” The single word shuts Archer down, but when I glance toward Ryker’s table, he’s not there. “He’s an asshole.”

One whose kiss I can still taste.

“Uh-huh.”

“Shh,” the lady at the opposite side of the table asserts just as the room erupts in applause. I mouth that I’m sorry and then look back to Archer, who has one eyebrow raised.

“I spent hours last night writing and perfecting a speech about why you should all donate generously to this charity.” My head whips to look toward the front of the room when I hear Ryker’s voice carrying through the microphone. Smooth as silk but with that little bit of grit that affects me, no matter how hard I try to ignore it. “But being here, walking up to the podium, my words from yesterday don’t seem to fit now.”

As he stands behind the lectern, his smile is engaging and he commands everyone’s presence in the room.

“I didn’t know. I promise.” Archer reiterates the same thing he’s said to me several times tonight, but I no longer think I believe him. It’s the millionaires’ club up in here, and I’m definitely the penny princess who doesn’t belong.

“I had planned to talk about obligation and duty. How those of us who are more fortunate should give more and complain less. Of course, I had some jokes peppered in there to help ease the checkbooks out of your purses and pockets as well . . . but then I realized that my speech doesn’t do anything to talk about the incredible people who have been touched by this syndrome in one way or another. So . . .” Ryker takes the speech in his hand and makes a show of tearing it in half, garnering a chuckle from the crowd.

“He looks good in a tux,” Archer says, and I just roll my eyes.

“All men look good in one,” I argue.

“Nuh-uh.” He says something else following that, but my attention is already focused back on Ryker. On his quick wit and easy charm. On the square of his shoulders. On how every part of me remains attuned to him somehow, even when I don’t want to be.

“I met a little girl a few weeks back,” he begins, and before he says another word, my heart lurches in my throat, because somehow I know where he’s going with this. He looks down for a beat as if he’s remembering something and chuckles softly. “She’d argue that she’s not little, but comparative to my years, we can all agree that eight can be considered little. We’ll call her Elle. This Elle . . . she has a never-ending smile, a zest for going fast, for accomplishing things others have said she couldn’t do. She’s funny and intelligent and kind and gives the best hugs out of anyone I’ve ever met. Many people would look at her and judge her. They’d think her distinct features depict a syndrome that holds her back, when what they really should be doing is seeing those gorgeous bright spots in her eyes. What they would remember about meeting her is how they couldn’t help but smile when she laughs and how after seeing her determination, knowing she’s capable of anything she puts her mind to.”

I hate that my heart swells in my chest, while at the same time I want to get mad at him for loving Lucy. But how can I blame him? How can I use my anger and my hurt and hold it against him for doing good?

“This girl”—he shakes his head—“is incredible. And just as incredible as Elle is the woman who takes care of her. The loving Elle part is something anyone who meets her would do, but the patience and dedication and drive to give her the very best is unmeasured by anything I’ve ever seen. But this woman . . . she works so hard, she worries too much about where the money to provide Elle with the very best will come from next, and she loves so hard that some nights I know she goes to sleep with tears in her eyes and a heart full of worry.”

His words hit my ears and dive into my soul before wrapping their raw and real truth around my heart. I don’t want to acknowledge that I’ve let Ryker see this side of me. That I’ve lowered my walls for him like I have no one else. That he’s seen the ups and the downs, despite how much I’ve tried to hide them, when it comes to Lucy and has inferred how I feel some nights.

“I know all this because I’ve seen it all firsthand. It’s the thing you pretend you don’t see when you’re walking down the street with your head down, your latest problem at work occupying your mind, and the next appointment you’re already late for hurrying your step. What you’re missing seeing is the mom struggling because, at that moment, the city’s too loud for her child, or the meltdown going on because someone like Elle wants to ride her bike with the rainbow streamers longer. Ignoring them is easier to do than wondering why she’s a little bit different than everyone else.”