Emma Riley

Inside Ryker's car

I couldn't speak at first. Instead I just stared at Ryker, who stared at me back with a weary look in his eyes. He was waiting for me to react, and I was waiting for him to give me some sort of indication that I had misheard him. Or that he had suddenly developed a horrible sense of humor. Anything besides that he actually just said the words; 'Sheila is pregnant and she says that it's mine.'

"Say something, please." Ryker  pleaded as I continued to stare at him in disbelief. What can I say? What does one usually say in this type of situation?

"I'm going to be honest with you, I don't believe her." He continued when I still didn't speak. His tone was rushed, and defensive. Probably out of fear I was about to explode with rage at any moment.

"I think she's either one, not pregnant at all. Or two, pregnant but lying about it being mine." He rubbed his forehead like he had a headache. He looked and sounded super stressed out. I couldn't believe he's been holding in this atomic bomb all this time and is just now talking about it.

"I want a DNA test. I'm telling you, something seems fishy about this. This is exactly what Dexter always tried to warn me about. God, I'm such an idiot." He started getting angrier the more he spoke, but it became apparent the person he was mad at was himself. He tilted his head back and let it rest on his car seat, shaking his head and closing his eyes as if he was in pain.

Something didn't make sense to me, and caused me to finally speak. "So what you're saying is, she planted a camera in your house because she was pregnant with your baby?" I couldn't hide the confusion in my voice, because I didn't see a connection.

Why did planting a camera and posting that video help anything? Was it some type of revenge because he didn't want a relationship with her? Who the fuck puts a camera in someone's house anyway? Creepy much?

He took a deep breath and rolled his eyes in frustration. "What she told Dexter was..she was afraid that when I found out she was pregnant that I'd fight for custody and win. So she planted the camera, hoping to find something that would paint me in a negative light in court if that were to happen."

I thought about it for a moment. It was all so much to take in and process. I can imagine how he must be feeling. I found that I didn't like him looking so stressed out. I didn't like that I couldn't do anything about it, either.

"Well, that sounds like dumb logic. But..did she say what she's after now? Money? A..relationship with you?" I tried to hide how much the thought of what is growing between us stop so he could be with somebody else hurt, but I don't think I was very convincing. Imagining Ryker, Sheila and baby as a little family, didn't sit well with me.

I knew how selfish that probably was, if she really was pregnant with his child I mean. But I didn't want to share him. "I don't know what she really wants at this point, Emma." Ryker  pulled me out of my internal freak out.

His eyes locked onto mine and he looked very serious. "One thing I can say..the only thing I can say in fact, is that I will never ever be in a relationship with Sheila." His tone sounded definite and irritated. "If that's what she's after, she's going to be dissapointed."

"Well..why is that exactly?" He seemed surprised I would ask him why, but curiousity got the best of me. A lot of people would try to make it work for the kid, and part of me wondered if his refusal had anything to do with me.

"She planted a camera in my fucking house, Emma." He said it like it should have been obvious. "That is not a person who is mentally stable. Besides, I'm still not convinced she's telling the truth. As arrogant as it may sound, this kind of thing can happen to men in my position." He wasn't wrong, but at the same time I couldn't help but feel like it was partly wishful thinking.

"Oh." It's all I could manage to say at the time. I suppose it was a logical enough reason to not be with someone. Part of me was relieved it wasn't just because of me. I didn't want to be the sole reason something didn't work out between the parents of this alleged unborn child.

He scratched his head and began to studder, which drew my attention back to him. "Then, there's the other reason." He said sheepishly.

My heart jumped out of my chest a little. "What other reason?" I asked, not wanting to be presumptuous and assume he was talking about me.

He shot me a look like I had just asked a silly question. "Is it not obvious?" He asked, raising one eyebrow. When I didn't respond, he continued. "You know me well enough by now to know how honest I am, right? Well, I could never be with someone if my heart wasn't in it. That's just not me and it wouldn't be fair to anyone involved." We locked eyes, and a big part of me felt relieved. He still wanted to be with me.

The question is, was wanting to be with me going to be enough? The amount of shit on this guy's plate was piling by the minute. If this was true, if he was really going to be a father..is it the best time for him to start a relationship?

Wow..Ryker  might potentially be a father. I had a hard time wrapping my mind around it. "I know you feel sure it isn't yours, but hypothetically..if it is?" I wanted, no..needed to know what his plan was if it turned out to be true. He took a deep breath and thought about it for a moment.

"I would never not be there for my child, if that's what you're wondering. If it was true, and I really don't believe it is..I will be there for my child. Of course I will. But as far as Sheila and I goes, there's nothing to discuss." I know he meant it, and I admired him for it. But he looked seriously stressed out at the idea of being a father anytime soon.

"I'm sorry, Emma." His eyes were filled with remorse as he grabbed my hand. I was caught off guard, wondering why he was apologizing to me. "Please don't hate me." He pleaded.

"Why would I hate you for something you did before you even met me? That wouldn't be very fair." I said, wanting desperately to calm him. Sure, I didn't like the idea and it wasn't fun to think about. But technically he was single at the time, and he could hook up with whoever he wanted.

"I'm an idiot. I should have been more careful. God, I can't believe I might have just changed my entire life..for what? To hook up with a woman I didn't even care about that much who thought spying on me and trying to ruin my reputation not to mention yours was okay?" He hit his head with the palm of his hand and his voice was shaky. The more he talked about it, the more he was starting to panic. Not that I blamed him. I was having a hard time not panicking myself, so I could only imagine how he felt.

"Not only her, but Maria too! God, I'm such a moron. Why must I ruin everything?! No wonder Dexter hates my guts these days." There was a sadness behind his eyes as he internally beat himself up. I was beginning to see a pattern.

He mentioned that his parents never approved of him. He wasn't a bad guy. But perhaps he's been searching to feel wanted in all the wrong places. Searching for that acceptance that he never got from the people who raised him.

"I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to see me again." He said bleakly. He was staring out the window and seemed to be trying to not get emotional. "The truth is if I wasn't so selfish, I would have done right by you and left you alone. Like Dexter told me too. But as usual I thought about what I wanted, and not about anyone else."

It broke my heart to see him this way. He was usually so cool and confident. But right now? He looked beaten down and helpless. I could see in his face how much he hated himself for choices he made in the past.

"I swear, if I could do it over I'd make different choices. Unfortunately, this is just something I have to deal with." He eyed me cautiously, a look of goodbye in his blue-gray eyes. "But Emma, you don't have to deal with this. I've disrupted your life enough already. I even made you lose your job." He cringed as he thought back to the chain of events that led us here. I quickly realized, he was doing the 'Emma thing.' Like Gina  said. He was blaming himself for each and every single thing that happened.

"First of all, you didn't make me lose my job. How the hell were you supposed to know she would do what she did with the camera and the video?" I took my hand and gently touched his face. He looked surprised by this gesture, and exhaled very deeply.

I couldn't help it. He looked so sad, and I wanted to comfort him. Besides, while he certainly didn't help the situation blaming him entirely was unfair.

"Second of all, my boss was a dick. He was a horrible sexist pig. I should have left that job a long time ago. I was never going to get anywhere with that company and I'm sure he would have found a reason to fire me eventually anyway." I was telling the truth, while still trying to make him feel better.

My old boss Carl  hated me for some reason I never understood. Not that the feeling wasn't mutual. I was tickled pink that I wasn't obligated to put up with his shit anymore. Though I had no idea where my life was going, I knew I was better off now than I was before.

"You don't have to be so nice to me, you know." He smiled at me, though something about his smile looked sad. "No one would blame you for walking away and never speaking to me again. In fact, it's probably in your best interest." There was hesitation in his voice like he was still afraid of that being a possibility.

"That being said, I can't bring myself to tell you to go. I want you to stay. Which probably just further proves how selfish I actually am." He sat back in his car seat and closed his eyes, looking defeated. Maybe I should be more upset with him, but I couldn't help but feel like maybe he needed me. He needed to feel like there was still someone on his side.

"It's no wonder my parents hate me. They probably knew I would be dumb enough to throw every last advantage I was ever lucky enough to be given away someday." I could be wrong, but I thought I saw him quickly wipe a tear away.

Ryker Fox

I felt humilated I had let myself get emotional in front of her. I would rather die than to have her see me as a weak man. I could only hope she didn't see the tear that had escaped my eyes. I hadn't cried in years, unless I was playing a character at the time.

I was startled to suddenly feel Emma's  arms wrap around me. She kissed my cheek, and gently nuzzled my neck. I didn't understand why she was being so understanding, but I wasn't in a position to question it. I wrapped my arms around her, returning her hug.

I could feel tears building in my eyes and I bit down on my lip, willing them away. But the truth was, I hadn't realized just how much I needed her to be on my side until I thought she was about to say goodbye.

She gently ran her hand up and down my back in a calming motion, giving my face and neck more of her soft, gentle kisses. I began to realize, I couldn't remember the last time I had embraced a woman like this when it wasn't about sex. I also realized, I couldn't imagine being this close to anyone but her.

"We'll figure this out. Somehow, we will figure it all out. It's not the end of the world, okay? I'm here." She pulled out of our hug enough to look me in the face. Her eyes were filled with affection, and remorse. But her tone suddenly went from calm and peaceful to irritated and serious.

"That being said? if I ever hear you call yourself dumb again, I'm cutting off your penis and feeding it to the neighbor's dog. You are not dumb, you got it?" I was speechless, to say the least. Somewhere between touched and terrified. It was so sweet she was protective, and she was also really sexy when she got sassy.

But on the other hand, poor Ryker Junior. Although, he is kind of the one who got me in all this mess in the first place. He always was a dick. Hardy har har..see what I did there? Don't judge me, I'm a man at the end of his pitiful rope.

"I don't deserve you, Emma." I said honestly. She blushed, looking slightly embarrassed. "I'm serious. You can do better." She really could, though the thought of her with someone else made me want to throw myself through the windshield. Or better yet, throw him  through the windshield. Ooo, I like that idea better.

"I'm just fine right where I am, thank you very much." She winked at me, and something in her smile made me believe that somehow it would be okay. My eyes traveled down to her lips, as I found myself wanting to kiss her.

This seemed to make her nervous, and she broke the silence. "Let's worry about all that drama tomorrow, huh? We were in the middle of a date, weren't we?" She smiled at me, her face lighting up. I almost felt my heart melt at the fact she still wanted to be on a date with me. I was expecting her to demand I take her home and never talk to her again.

She looked out the window and at our surroundings, probably for the first time since we pulled up. She looked puzzled, but intrigued. "Where are we anyway? I don't think I've ever been here before." She asked as she looked out the window and at the sign on the building in front of us. "'The Palette?' What's that?"

I suddenly got very nervous. I had no idea if she'd be into this. But I thought after she found out about Sheila, this might be our first and only date. I wanted to do something special and creative. Something more intimate than taking her to a movie. The problem was, I had very little experience in this particular area.

"I was part of a project that filmed around this area once. During the time I got to know a lot of the business owners in the area, including this one. She's a nice lady, and let me rent out the place tonight so we could be alone." I said, sheepishly. I kept my eyes outside the window and to the building the entire time I talked. I was too nervous if I looked at her, I'd find her trying not to laugh at my pathetic attempt at a creative date.

"So..what is 'The Palette' exactly?" She asked, inquisitive. I realized I had been so nervous, I didn't actually tell her what we're doing here.

"'The Palette' is an art center that gives classes for beginners and advanced painters every week. Every class, they teach you how to draw a different piece. A lot of people come here for date nights or whatever. They even serve you wine so you can drink while you paint, but I opted for something a bit more our style." I rushed my words out as fast as I could, hoping she caught all that so I didn't have to repeat it. I had no idea if this was lame or not but at least it was different..right?

I got the courage to tear my eyes away from the building to study her expression. She was staring at me, smiling from ear to ear. She actually looked, dare I say..excited?

"It's scotch..please say you mean scotch!"  She beamed and clapped her hands together. I actually found myself laughing. Two seconds ago I was on the verge of crying, and now I was laughing? She's incredible.

"Yes, I mean scotch. Obviously." I fidgeted with the sleeve of my shirt, still feeling nervous. "So, you don't think this is lame? You can be honest."

She looked at me like I had just said something ridiculous. "Are you kidding? Getting drunk and painting shit? Sounds like a good time to me." She smiled, and I found myself relaxing.

"Well, that's a relief. I was afraid you'd think it was cheesy." I wiped sweat from my forehead, and began to realize how much I really needed that scotch.

"I think it's a great idea, Ryker! We could be making pottery to the song Unchained Melody and I wouldn't think it was cheesy. As long as I was with you." She grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze, and I wondered how I got so lucky.

Emma Riley

The Palette

The outside looked cozy and quaint for something in the city. When we walked in, the place was empty except for a woman with long curly brown hair, brown eyes and glasses that identified herself as the owner, Shelby. She was probably in her thirties and greeted us with a genuine-looking smile.

The room was filled with several long tables covered in white tablecloths, accompanied with ten black stools and ten blank canvas on each table.

The back wall was made of brick and had the words 'Uncork Your Inner Artist' on it with light green letters. The brick wall appeared to have hangers on it for people's coats and purses. Ryker eventually went over and hung up his black overcoat.

I found myself shamlessly oogling his body. In his buttoned white shirt you could see his muscular frame and broad shoulders. He looked up at me and caught me checking him out, and he gave me a knowing smirk.

Shelby  told us to go ahead and have a seat anywhere, and brought out a bottle of scotch from under the white counter by the front door. She said they normally wouldn't serve anything but beer or wine, but who's going to say no to Ryker Fox?

We sat down on two of the stools at the very back table that was by the brick wall while Shelby  went to collect our brushes and paint. I couldn't stop smiling despite all the drama that surely lies ahead for us.

Coming here was a super cute idea. I hadn't pegged Ryker  for the artist type, but he actually looked at home. I have to admit, I know very little about art..but I've always wished I had talent for it.

After Shelby  brought art supplies to our table along with the bottle of scotch and two glasses, she went over and turned on the radio so we could have some type of background music.

The first song that came on, I recognized the voice of Billie Eilish  right away, got excited and starting singing along. Ryker  looked at me curiously and smiled. "Billie fan?"

I nodded while I took a drink of my scotch. I was temporary distracted as I closed my eyes to appreciate the taste of the Whiskey. Oh yes, this was so much better than wine. It especially hit the spot after the heavy conversation we just had in the car.

I opened my eyes to find Ryker  staring at me, and I realized he was expecting more of an answer than a nod. "I love Billie Eilish. Her music is raw and honest, and she's not afraid to be weird. I've watched interviews of her and she just seems like she has an old soul for someone so young. I don't know, I just like that." I took another drink of my scotch before setting it down on the table.

He nodded, and picked up one of the clean brushes. "She does have an old soul. You're right." He said it as a statement, sounding just a little too sure. My eyes damn near popped out of my skull, and I startled him by suddenly grabbing hold of his arm.

"Oh my god, Ryker. Do not tell me you actually know Billie fucking Eilish and you're just now telling me?!"  I'm constantly forgetting he's someone famous who knows other famous people. So I'm left feeling shocked every time his celebrity status comes up in some way.

"Relax! I didn't say we were besties. I just met her once on a talk show. She was there to perform and I was there promoting my latest film. She seemed cool." He said the sentence very casually, and I was further reminded how much more exciting his life was compared to mine. Seriously, who just casually mentions in passing about this one time they were on a national talk show and met Billie Eilish?!

If it was me, that would be the highlight of my freakin life. You wouldn't be able to get me to shut up about it. But things like that happen to him all the time. So. freaking. weird.

We were both startled by Shelby  showing up behind us to get us started on what we would be painting. Considering I have no art skills whatsoever, this had the potential to be hysterical. I couldn't help but wonder if Ryker  had any art skills of his own.

I wouldn't be surprised at this point. 'Oh, I didn't tell you? I'm actually a world-renowned artist in my spare time. It's whatever. Could you pass the scotch?'

I turned my attention to Shelby, who held up a beautiful art piece. It appeared to be a landscape. A forest filled of thin black trees with bright red leaves on them, in a blanket of white snow next to a frozen lake.

"This is what you'll be painting tonight. It's called 'Foggy Morning.'" Shelby  said in a cheerful, upbeat voice, beaming proudly. I couldn't hold in my laughter, and both Ryker and Shelby  eyed me suspiciously.

"That is very beautiful, Shelby. But there's no way I'm going to be able to recreate it." I chuckled thinking of what my attempt would look like. Ryker  just smirked and Shelby  shook her head.

"Don't you worry, I just painted this as an example. But we want your interpretation of it. It should reflect who you are. So it's not supposed to be exactly the same. This is about having fun and getting creative." Shelby  smiled as she set down her painting on an empty easel. There was something about her I really liked. I don't know, I suppose I admire people who genuinely enjoy their job. I could only hope someday I'd be lucky enough to find something I enjoy, too.

"Well, if my painting reflects who I am then it's probably going to be a big, hot mess. But I'm going to give it a try." I finished off my scotch as both of them laughed at me. The wine at dinner mixed with this scotch, I could already feel a slight buzz. I just had to hope I wouldn't get too drunk and embarrass myself. Although, it wouldn't be the first time it's happened in front of Ryker.

Fifteen Minutes Later

One thing I liked about Shelby, she didn't hover. She often came to check on us, point us in the right direction, and then dissapeared somewhere so we could be alone. I couldn't help but wonder if she was just considerate, or if she had been instructed by Ryker  to make herself as scarce as possible.

I had to be honest, I was doing better than I thought I would. I was actually managing to create something slightly resembling what Shelby  had painted. It definitely wasn't as pretty as hers but it didn't look like a five-year-old had painted it, and that was enough for me.

I looked over at Ryker's painting, and of course..it was looking way  better than mine. It looked even a little better than Shelby's so far.

"So you act, cook, and you can paint? Pick a talent and stick to it you greedy prick." He laughed at my sass as I took another drink of scotch. "I'm not joking, Ryker. Name something you can't do."

"You mean besides keep it in my pants?" He mumbled bitterly, talking to himself more than me. He looked at me from the corner of his eye, and went on like he hadn't said it. "Sing. I'm a horrible singer." He blurted out as he focused on his painting.

I grinned at him and he eyed me curiously. "That bad?" I was still skeptical he wasn't practically perfect.

"One time in high school I was singing along to Queen in my room. My mom ran in with a fire extinguisher because she thought my smoke alarm was going off." He looked serious and I couldn't tell if he was kidding or not, but I almost fell off my stool from laughing so hard. The scotch might have had something to do with it, too. He just smiled at me, seeming pleased he had made me laugh.

The mention of his mom reminded me of our conversation at dinner, and I couldn't help but ask. "You said you don't talk to your parents. Do you at least know where they are?"

He looked like the question made him feel awkward, and part of me felt bad for asking.  "I bought them a house, so I know where they are. I'm just not allowed over  there." He stopped painting and took a big gulp of his scotch. My jaw dropped open and I couldn't believe what I just heard.

"You're not allowed over at the house that you paid for?! Your parents house no less?! That's bullshit!" He was jumped in his chair as I slammed my fist on the table. "What the hell is their problem?!"

He sighed, his voice sounding sad..though he tried to seem casual. "I told you already. They just don't like me. That's about as deep as it goes. Can't say I blame them. Not everyone finds me as agreeable as you do, believe it or not." He winked at me and finished off his scotch, quickly pouring another.

I felt angry, hurt, confused, enraged. I didn't know them or the situation but I found myself wishing I could call them up and bitch them out. "We should go buy a couple dozen of eggs, a pack of toliet paper and drive to the house right now." He laughed, but I didn't. Because I wasn't joking, but I knew he wouldn't actually do something like that. I guess that tells you which one of us is more petty.

His expression changed, as he looked at me cautiously. "Now can I ask you a question?" He pressed his lips together and looked like he was afraid to upset me. I didn't like where this was going. But given the point of this date is to get to know each other,  I suppose I should learn to be more open. It's not fair to expect him to answer questions if I won't.

I nodded, promoting him to continue. He turned to face me, and something told me I wasn't going to like this question.

"You should earlier that a lot of bad memories were tied to your Durango. I was just wondering what you meant by that." My heart sank as he asked the worst question he could possibly have asked.

"I'm..not sure you're ready to hear about that." I said bleakly. Or perhaps it was me who didn't feel ready to say it.

"Please tell me. I'd like to know anything and everything about you." He grabbed my hand, and I had a hard time controlling my breathing.

"Are you sure? Because it might change how you look at me." Which was what I was afraid of. It always changes the way people look at me.

"Tell me. Please?" He gazed at me, and waited for a response. He looked as nervous as I felt. Almost.

I took in a deep breath, trying and failing to prepare myself to talk about the one thing I never wanted to talk about. Here goes.

Author's note: If you enjoyed this chapter, please don't forget to vote! :)