Berlin always seemed like somebody who knew herself inside and out, was comfortable in her own skin, and would never settle for less than she wanted. She was a fighter. Still is. And Berlin’s intelligence might even rival Rider’s, which is a feat, but it’s something that makes her even more attractive to me.
The most attractive thing about her, though, was that she didn’t need me. I knew whenever I hooked up with somebody that most of them were in it not because they liked me for who I was – but for what I had. Ninety-nine percent of the women I’ve been with in my life have been looking to grab on to the money train and all the status and privilege that comes along with it. Which is exactly why I’ve been single for as long as I have – and have no plans to change that status anytime soon.
But Berlin was never like that. I know she came from a background similar to Rider’s – a family without a lot of money. I know she had to work a menial job and rely on scholarships and grant money to get her through college. But she did it – and apparently even went on to law school after that. And I respect the hell out of her for it. That sort of determination and sheer will is rare in people, but I can see that she’s got it in spades.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me that you actually had feelings for her?” Rider asks. “I mean like, genuine feelings.”
I shrug – there’s no use denying it to Rider anymore since he can see through my bullshit. “Because I knew pretty early on that Berlin was going to be a dead end for me.”
“A dead end?”
“She was never going to be into me the way I was into her,” I explain.
“Maybe it’s because she thought you were just looking for a piece of ass?”
I shrug again. “Maybe,” I admit. “Maybe I came on a little strong. I don’t know. But it was pretty clear she wasn’t interested.”
“But you cared about her?” he presses. “I mean, like actually cared about her.”
I hesitate for a moment, still uncomfortable talking about all of this. I’m a private person. Intensely private and opening up to somebody – even somebody I consider my brother – isn’t something I’m comfortable doing. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Yeah, I mean, I guess. I didn’t know her all that well, so it wasn’t like this deep love or anything,” I admit. “But I liked her. A lot. I felt things for her I never felt for anybody before.”
He nods and takes a drink of his beer, absorbing my words. Over the years, I’ve learned to share more of my inner monologue with Rider. I’m still not crazy about it, but I’ve grown more comfortable sharing more of myself with him. He’s usually got some keen insights to share. But even still, there are doors inside of me that remain locked. Even to him.
“I still want to know why you thought you couldn’t talk to me about it,” he states flatly. “I mean, back then, you never said a word to me about how you felt about her.”
Holding his beer mug in hand, Rider leans back in the booth and stares at me, the look on his face telling me we’re not going anywhere until he gets some answers. I chuckle and rub my jaw. Rider can be a stubborn ass at times, but I can tell the fact that I didn’t open up and share my feelings is bothering him.
“Honestly, I didn’t want to talk about it with anybody – it wasn’t just you. It was something I felt like I needed to keep to myself – and no, it had nothing to do with the fact that she shot me down,” I insist. “But you know I don’t do emotions well. I don’t like talking about them.”
“Still afraid your emotions make you look weak or something?” he questions.
“Not necessarily weak. I just know how easy it is to let my emotions get the better of me,” I correct him. “I don’t like not being in control like that. You remember what happened with that fucking paparazzi asshole.”
Rider nods, a grim expression on his face as the memory comes back to him. A few years back, a group of us were out on the town. Some prick with a camera got in my face and wouldn’t let up. I told him to back off more than once, but he wouldn’t listen. The pot boiled over pretty quickly – I ended up knocking the guy out. Then I proceeded to smash his camera and equipment before I went about the rest of my evening. If Rider hadn’t been there to talk me down, who knows how far I might have gone.
A few days after the incident, I was asked to come down to the police station. The goddamn leech of a photographer was trying to press charges against me. And although I wasn’t ultimately charged with a crime – my family’s lawyer is very good like that – I did end up having to pay something in restitution. It wasn’t much, but I resented every goddamn penny of it.
But it taught me that I needed to keep a tighter rein on my emotions and that I can’t afford to let myself get caught up in their wild currents or I risk getting pulled under. So, after that incident, I started to lock myself down rather than give in to the whims of my emotions. I taught myself to keep everything on the
