Jourdan Mathews has a secret, and she knows she needs to take this one to the grave.
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Her life was never complicated: a college student with a close family, good friends, and a plan for her future as a doctor. Had that night had never happened...
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Ryder and I fall asleep late, the two of us spending the night talking, instead of tearing into one another. He told me about growing up, about his relationship with his sister Rory, who he wants me to meet when we're back from break. I also finally hear the origin story behind his love, and quite frankly, remarkable talent, for basketball.
He'd described having some of his best memories learning to play basketball with his mother, a woman who'd grown up in Minneapolis, Minnesota and who'd won the Miss Basketball Award as a senior in high school—an award his father still keeps on his desk in his home office to this day. Talent is in Ryder's DNA, something given to him by his mom, and something that kept him going when she passed away. Apparently, it was breast cancer, a battle she'd been waging for years before it finally ended when he was just seven.
What's more, he told me that his grandfather, on his mother's side, was a proud CU alumni. A buff to his very core, and it was something that he'd instilled in Ryder from a very young age. So, despite the many offers from colleges with renowned basketball teams that practically guaranteed their best players a spot in the NBA, Ryder had made the choice to sign with CU as a senior in high school.
It was then that it occurred to me, even though the one thing I'd always known about him was that it was his dream to play in the NBA, this backstory revealed to me that love and family had always been at the core of all his decision making.
We stayed up talking until we quite literally couldn't keep our eyes open, and then we'd fallen asleep on top of the duvet cover, facing one another. I'm not sure what time we did finally drift off, but I know it was late as soon as I start to wake up this morning.
My eyes feel tired and heavy as they blink open, but all this vanishes as soon as I see Ryder sleeping next to me, his face peaceful and calm, still sleeping. This relationship is already so different than the one I'd had with Miles, when he'd forced us to put labels on everything after only two weeks.
Ryder and I had made the decision to label things, together.
I almost want to laugh at the thought that I hadn't wanted another relationship before, let alone another boyfriend so soon, and the last person I ever dreamed of that happening with was Ryder Harris. The self-proclaimed king of the fuck-boys.
But that was just a mask. I think I understood that now.
Just like I had been trying to keep myself safe by keeping myself closed off for months now, he'd done the same—just with an endless supply of notches in his bed post.
I reach up, running my fingers through the lose, wavy curls of his dark hair, and his expression shifts, sighing deeply as his eyes flutter. I admire his thick eyelashes then, part of me jealous that he was so naturally gifted with more than just a talent for basketball.
