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She lifted her eyebrows. “Does it hurt that bad?”

He nodded.

Sighing, Mrs. Yates gave him one more pill, then handed him the water.

Ryder took the meds, wincing as he tilted his head back to swallow.

From the bathroom, I cringed with him in sympathy, unable to image how much agony he had to be in. He looked like he’d just gone a round with Rocky Balboa.

His mom looked equally sympathetic, until she shook her head. “I still can’t believe you got into a fight with Todd. He’s your best friend.”

Ryder let out a sigh as he dropped the cup to his side. “Not anymore.”

“Oh, are you ready to confess why you two argued? Should I call your father in to hear this?”

“No,” Ryder was quick to retort. “I just...I don’t want to talk about it yet. I just want to sleep.”

Face falling with disappointment, Mrs. Yates shook her head. “What’s happened to you, Ryder?”

“Too much,” he muttered, rubbing at his face, only to wince and yank his hand from the swelling. “Look, I’ll explain everything tomorrow, okay? Right now, I just…I really do want to lie down for a while.”

“Okay, but I’m holding you to that. Tomorrow.” After setting the pill bottle on the nightstand by Ryder’s bed, Mrs. Yates started from the room, only to pause and snatch his iPod off the end table by the couch. “Forgot to take this earlier,” she explained, pocketing it as she exited, shutting the door behind her.

Ryder slumped down onto his couch.

Without a word, I stepped from the bathroom.

“Let me guess,” he said, without looking up. “You don’t want to talk about your problems either.”

When he glanced up at me from bloodshot eyes, I shook my head.

Ryder sat quiet for a moment, studying me before he asked, “Has he hurt you?”

I closed my eyes. “No.”

“Okay. I’ll leave it alone then. But I still want to help you.”

“You are.”

Thankfully, he didn’t ask any more questions. He did, however, look as exhausted as he claimed to be. So, we prepared ourselves for bed, each of us changing in his bathroom before we stood barefoot in our pajamas in the middle of the floor and duked it out over who should get the bed.

It was his house, he was hurt, and I felt strange sleeping in his bed. I argued for the couch. Nevertheless, Ryder remained way more stubborn. Though I found the gentleman in him sweet, he could be downright aggravating.

As much backbone as I didn’t have, I ended up with the bed while he camped out on the couch. He shut off the lights, and I thought that would be that.

But he surprised me when his voice came from across the room and through the dark. “Okay, I have to know; what’s with the coat?”

I frowned at the shadows that swallowed him whole. “Wha

t coat?”

“The big, hulking lumber jacket you wear everywhere. The one you forgot to put on Friday night before coming here.”

Thank goodness the lights were out; he couldn’t see my blush. “What do you mean, what’s with the coat? It’s a coat. I wear it to keep warm.”

“So…there’s no story behind it?” He sounded almost disappointed.

My throat went dry and I wanted to cry. But honestly, how had he known I had history with that one piece of clothing?