“People around me die,” he says.
He’s told me something similar before. “Your mom,” I say. “The attack at the concert. Anyone else?”
He simply whispers my name. That’s a yes.
“You didn’t kill any of those people.”
“I hurt you,” he says softly, his eyes lowering to my belly. “The baby.”
Reaching for his hand, I hold it to my belly. “We’re both fine.”
“I could’ve . . .”
“You wouldn’t,” I say. “Don’t you see? In your dream, you weren’t trying to hurt me. You were trying to save me.”
I get the slightest nod from him. Thank God. I was running out of theories. He reaches up, his hands lightly caressing my neck. “Does it hurt at all?” he asks.
“It might need a kiss to make it better,” I say with a smile.
His lips softly land on the skin of my neck. It’s so tender I can barely feel it. He takes his time, moving from one side of my neck to the other, down to my collarbone. I bite down on my bottom lip, trying not to moan, not wanting him to know how much he’s getting to me for fear he might stop.
My legs wobble slightly, and he pulls back, saying, “Better get you off your feet.”
And with that, my Ryder is back. I never thought I’d say it—but I missed him being over-protective.
“Always trying to get me on my back,” I tease, and he gives me a light smack on my booty.
As promised, I take his hand, intertwining our fingers as we walk out of the room. Obviously, I’m concerned for him. I don’t want this kind of thing to keep happening, but I can’t exactly make him promise he’s not going to do it again. He was sleeping. Besides, being in a relationship with someone means being with the whole of that person, even the bad. You just have to know what you can and won’t deal with. And I can deal with this. I can help him through it.
Maggie is waiting just outside. When she sees me, the corner of her mouth curves just slightly, seemingly impressed. But her pride in me is overshadowed by her love for Ryder, pulling him into a hug.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
We jump in the lake off that old rope
Swinging, swinging
Ryder
When you have the kind of past I do, you learn how to be a good actor, so no one really knows who you are. My brother acts for a living, but I act every fucking day. I live it. It’s the only way to survive.
People look at me and think I have it all, but I didn’t have shit until Kailey walked into my life. I’ve spent my life moving fast. Emotions are time sucks. They need time to grow and flourish. They are slow moving, pretty easy to outrun. I should know, I’ve been doing it since I was a teenager.
Now I’m feeling all my feelings, every last fucking one of them.
Earlier, my carefully controlled facade slipped. I could’ve really hurt Kailey. I look over at her, a bowl of ice cream in her hands. Her feet rest in my lap, and she’s talking about what she could possibly wear to my brother’s wedding, if she’s allowed on her feet by then.
This is it for me—her. She’s it. The only thing that matters is this, is her. My reputation isn’t the best, so if she’s with me, it must mean she’s really in this.
After what happened, she stayed, and she’s perfectly happy, not scared or running for the hills. She sticks.
When you find the right woman, you have to lock it down.
“Marry me, Kailey,” I say softly.
She stops mid bite, her spoon stuck in her mouth. It’s not the first time we’ve talked about this, but it is the first time I sincerely asked her. I’m sure she’s confused as hell, considering I just spent the past several hours locked away in my music room, but I want her to know I won’t leave her.
She slips the spoon out of her mouth, placing the bowl down on the coffee table. “I don’t want to get married because I’m pregnant.”
“This isn’t about that,” I say, taking her hand. “It’s about wanting to be with you. Wanting to know you’ll always be here and . . .”
“I don’t want to get married because you’re afraid of losing me, either.”
“I’m fucking this up,” I say. “What can I do to get you to say yes?”
“The day you can look me in the eye and tell me you love me is the day I’ll say yes,” she says, her voice strong and sure.
A huge lump forms in my throat. I swore I’d never say those words to another woman. People ache to hear the word love. But what if love was the thing that destroyed you?
Why the hell couldn’t she just ask for something simple, like a big ass diamond?
She leans up, planting a sweet kiss on my lips. “Don’t worry, Ryder. I know you aren’t ready to give me the forever I want.”
“I am,” I say. “I can give you forever.”
She responds by leaning in, kissing me gently once again. I know that’s not a yes. She raises a flirty eyebrow at me, saying, “How about for now, you just take me to bed?”
I don’t trust myself in bed with her, and not for any sexual reasons. I can’t risk having another nightmare like that. I won’t take that risk with her or our baby.
“About that,” I say. “I think I should have Geoffrey come stay here at night.”
“Why?” Kailey asks. “Is there a problem?”
“Just in case,” I say. “A lot has happened since our rush to the hospital. I thought it was best to have someone around.”
She raises an eyebrow at me, knowing what this is really about. “Only nights, though? Emergencies only happen when we’re sleeping?”
I didn’t think this would be an easy sell, but I’m not going to give up. “Just hear me out.”
“What’s he supposed to do, sit in a chair and watch us sleep?”
“No,” I say. “He’ll be here if you need him.”
“Ryder, this is ridiculous.”
“I don’t think so.”
“What about our privacy?” she asks.
She didn’t exactly come out and say it, but I know she’s referring to sex. Honestly, it wouldn’t be the first time Geoffrey was on duty while I was behind closed doors, but I’m not about to volunteer that little piece of information.
“This is the only way I’ll continue to share a bed with you.”
She bursts into tears. There is no other way to describe it. It’s like a water balloon landed on a cactus. Tears are coming down her face one after another, dripping onto her shirt. “Kailey,” I say, reaching for her.
“No,” she says, shaking her head and getting to her feet.
“Listen to me,” I say, my voice sharper than it should be.
“Or what?” she snaps. She wipes her face, and suddenly, her tears are dry. I guess anger can do that. She gets on her tiptoes, getting in my face. “You’ll stop holding my hand?”
“Now you’re just being dramatic.”
“You’re trying to get your way by taking away your affection. That’s fucked up! What is wrong with you? We don’t need a guard—another person in your employment coming to the rescue. I just need you!” She turns on her heel, marching toward her bedroom and slamming the door.