The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(72)
“Me too.” He chewed another bite of pizza in silence, then asked, “What about you? Did anyone in college or afterward change how you think about love?”
“No. I dated around in college, but nothing serious. I focused on sports and school.”
He widened his legs and rested his elbows on his knees. “I can’t believe you didn’t have a single significant boyfriend in the past ten years.”
“I told you, I broke up with you because I didn’t want to be tied down.” She blotted some grease from her lips. “I wanted to make my own way in college.”
He stared at the space between his feet. “What about after that?”
One never knows how far they’re willing to humiliate themselves until a test comes along. Given what he’d admitted here tonight, she decided to expose herself and hope for the best. “Honestly, when I heard about you and Val getting married, it threw me into a funk. Before that, I had this crazy idea that we could still end up together—assuming I was willing to beg. Then Peyton called me after she heard about the pregnancy from Logan. On your wedding day, I drank myself into oblivion with my teammates and had an ugly cry. I knew I deserved every bit of that bitter pill, but it sucked.” Steffi stretched her legs out, hoping it might help her relax a bit. “After college, I worked with some real alpha-holes in construction. It wasn’t easy to meet the kind of guy I could see myself with. I kept searching for someone who had it all—someone like you. I dated, but I never fell in love again. Seems like love was another first and best with you.” She fanned herself despite the early-October chill.
Ryan reached for her hand and tugged her closer, then raised one hand to her cheek. His gaze dipped to her lips, and he leaned forward, brushing her lips with a gentle kiss. Brief and sweet, leaving her wanting so much more.
He rested his forehead against hers, their noses touching. “Thanks for telling me all that. I know you don’t like to talk about your feelings.”
“No, I don’t,” she laughed. “But I’m older now. I’m getting better . . . or at least I’m willing to try.”
Ryan eased away but kept hold of her hand, allowing his chest to fill with the hope that this would blossom into something beautiful. Something more real than the fairy-tale love story he’d imagined it to be way back when. “You’ve changed. I mean, you’re the same in a lot of ways, but you’re more open.”
It was one step, but could she commit? That, in essence, had been her fatal flaw. The thing that had ruined them. He couldn’t give in to his feelings until he felt more certain of hers. That kiss had been a reflex and had whetted his appetite for more. But whatever happened between them wasn’t just about them. Any relationship he had, whether with Steffi or someone else, would affect Emmy. He should be sure before he took a major step, or stole more kisses.
“Tell me one thing that’s changed about you.” She turned and straddled her legs on either side of the bleacher now, her curious expression staring him in the face.
“For the better or for the worse?”
She made a soft clucking sound. “You were sort of perfect before, so it must be for the worse.”
“Fooled you, apparently.” He crossed his arms, thinking he’d changed in so many ways he didn’t know where to begin. “I’m more cynical now.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“My job keeps me mired in the shit parts of humanity. Between the criminals and the dirty cops, it’s hard to be optimistic about people’s intentions.”
“Sounds depressing. Why not switch to corporate law?”
“It might sound weird, but this job feels like a calling. Once in a while, a case comes along where I’m the only thing standing between some poor sucker and a really bum deal. Most of my clients have never had a lucky break. At least half are decent folks who made a single bad mistake, like a bar fight. In court, I see private defense attorneys getting rich people off for the same and worse crimes. Seems to me the average Joe deserves a lawyer who cares.”
Her eyes twinkled beneath the stadium lights. The chilly air painted her cheeks, and the tip of her nose, a rosy shade of red. Like her lips. The ones he wanted to kiss again.
“They’re lucky to have you on their side, but I still don’t know how you can defend someone you know is guilty.”
“Guilt’s not always so easy to define. For example, right now I’ve got a guy who’s accused of rape.” In his head, he saw Owen O’Malley’s face. The perpetual confusion and frustrated anger that shone through his eyes. Ryan could hear the man’s slow speech responding to questions. “I know he had sex with his accuser—DNA evidence is clear, and he doesn’t deny it. The problem is, his IQ is seventy, and she’s a known prostitute he didn’t pay. I’m convinced he didn’t understand the transaction, and she’s accusing him of rape as some kind of payback.” When he looked up at Steffi, her rosy cheeks now matched the color of the moon above. Beads of perspiration dotted her forehead, adding sheen to her haunted expression. Her pupils had dilated and were fixed on some distant spot.
Ryan glanced over his shoulder to see what was happening on the field or in the parking lot, but nothing caught his attention. He turned back and gently touched her knee. “Steffi.”
Her body trembled as she let out a sort of stifled whimper. He watched as she blinked, her focus sharpening on him, yet her eyes remained filled with confusion.