Page 20 of Ruby

“One of my fosters liked the cooking channel,” he replies. I instantly feel bad for bringing it up.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” I start.

He waves it off. “Don’t be.” He takes a second, then moves to look at me. “I turned out okay, didn’t I?”

A slow smile spreads across my face. “Debatable.”

Chuckling, he preps the steak with marinade as I slide onto the kitchen counter to watch him. “So, what about you? You told me you don’t have any parents, either.”

I’m at the point where I can talk about it now, but there was a time when I couldn’t. “They were killed by a drunk driver when I was thirteen. I was in the car, too, but I survived.”

He blinks, frowning, then wipes his hands on a paper towel and walks toward me. “Hey, I’m sorry⁠—”

“Don’t be,” I tell him, a lump forming in my throat. “I was made an orphan that day. It’s one of the reasons I never drink when I’m riding, not even one. In fact, I haven’t drunk heavily in years.”

“That must’ve been hard for you.”

I puff air out of my cheeks. “Incredibly. I had no other family. Well, there was my grandma on my mom’s side, but she was a basket case and died a year later. I was placed with a foster family, but things didn’t really work out. I ran away at fifteen to fend for myself.”

“I was fifteen, too, it sounds a lot like my story.” His eyes never leave mine. “Except my mom overdosed, and I never knew my dad. Apparently, he was a deadbeat, and I was better off not knowin’ him.”

“Jesus,” I say. “I’m sorry… about your mom.”

He shrugs. “She probably did her best, but she was a kid herself when she got knocked up. I guess she just wasn’t cut out to take care of me.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say again, because I truly am. At least I had parents who loved me and cared about me. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about them or that night. Why I lived and they didn’t.

It haunts me, and it probably always will.

“Sometimes life deals us a hand that makes us work really hard for our survival.”

I marvel at how intelligent he is, how mature—especially for his age—maybe I’ve misjudged him all along. That’s on me, because I’ve never judged anyone. With Drifter, he’s under my skin, and that terrified me at first, but now it’s as if I’ve known him forever. Like we’re old friends—friends who fuck—and I can tell him all my secrets.

I’ve never been able to tell anyone my secrets. Okay, my girls, of course, can be trusted, but I keep a lot inside because I don’t like upsetting anyone. Even though it’s my story to tell and I can’t quite find the words.

He cups one side of my face. “I knew when I saw you for the very first time that we could have somethin’ special. I don’t know what it is, but just like my instincts, somethin’ told me to talk to you. It’s not all about the sex, which is great, by the way. I feel as if I can tell you anythin’. Is that crazy?”

I shake my head, that lump in my throat getting thicker. “No, it’s not crazy because I feel the same way. I’m tryin’ to figure out if I’m not just in some orgasm induced coma that I’ll wake up from, or if this is worth pursuing.”

“It’s worth pursuing.” He presses his forehead against mine. “The heart doesn’t lie.”

His words. His fucking words kill me.

“You’re surprisingly poetic,” I murmur. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

“I had a great middle school teacher. She changed my life—taught me how to read, and how to express myself creatively. I owe a lot to her.”

“Is this when your love of older women first became apparent?” I laugh.

His smile widens. “She was old, and my Prez’s mom—didn’t find that out till later. You could say she was like a fairy godmother. Not only did she help me in her own time, but she stayed behind when I didn’t understand, when other kids laughed at me because I couldn’t spell. Wrath’s a lucky guy.”

“That’s so sweet. Do you still see her often?”

“All the time.” He smiles, and it’s genuine. I’m glad he found some happiness and good folk in all the mess.

“There’s always good people, you just gotta look out for them. And when you find them, treat them properly, like they’re precious.”

Our lips touch, and I’ve no idea how I’ve lived without this man for this damn long.