Page 17 of Sweet Oblivion

“I can hear you well enough with these in,” I tell her and take her hands in mine. “And yeah... your ASL is kinda shit, Lane.”

“Don’t be mean to me, you ass.” She smiles through her tears. “I’m trying.”

“I know.” I shrug. “Guess I’m selfish. I just wanted to see your smile and teasing you tends to do it.”

Truer fucking words . . .

“Your lawyer said you need this, Ryker. I might not be able to do much, but I can do this.” She looks away as ifashamed, and I cup her cheek and bring her face back to me. “It’s my fault you’re in this mess. Let me fix it.”

“Delaney.” My head pounds in time with my heart. “It is not your fault. I’d do the exact same thing in a fucking heartbeat. No one has the right to lay their hands on you. No one.”

Her beautiful doe eyes swing back, pain and determination warring with each other. “You already said you were my husband, Ryker. Your lawyer said it’s all over social media already. This will work. She said she’s your family. And your family isn’t like mine. I already know that. Your family looks out for each other. If she thinks this is the way to go, then this is the way we go.”

“My family has plenty of attorneys, Lane. I have options.” I’m not sure if any of them save my job, my brand sponsorships, or every fucking thing I’ve worked my entire life for, but that’s not her problem. It’s mine.

With a deep inhale, she crosses her legs and straightens her back. “Please let me do this for you, Ryker. I’ll sign a prenup if you’re worried about money. I’m not after anything. I just want to protect you the way you protected me.”

“Jesus, Lane. I wasn’t even thinking about that. I don’t want to ruin your life. If we do this, we have to actually get married. Be. Married. Live together. Be together. I don’t even know for how long. Are you really willing to do that?” I’ve been pulled to this woman for months. Before I knew she was Ashton’s sister and after. Pulled like never before. But this... This isn’t what I had in mind. “You’d be trapped.”

“I’ve been trapped before, Ryker. I’ll never let that happen again.” She drags the pad of one finger along a small white scar on her palm. Tracing the healed wound like she’s somehow finding comfort in it. “I promise you I could spend two years married to you and those years couldn’t possibly come close to the worst in my life. Let me do this for you.”

I lift my arm, and without another word, Delaney sinksinto my side, her head against my shoulder. “How about you sleep on it, and we’ll talk more when we wake up?”

“Are you going to sleep?” she asks softly as her eyes grow heavy.

“Yeah,” I lie and spend the next three hours watching her instead.

DELANEY

Can someone explain how I go about getting a hurricane named after me?

Asking for a friend.

—Delaney’s Secret Thoughts

I’m not sure what wakes me up, the knock I think I may have just heard or Tori’s squeal.

My eyes open slowly, and reality blinds me with bright sunlight shining through the curtains I left open last night... Although I guess it was actually this morning. I’m in my bed, my head resting on Ryker Beneventi’s chest, with his arm curled protectively around mine, my knees tucked up against me, and my arm draped around his waist. Safe.

I’m surprised either of us was able to get any sleep at all, but according to the clock, it’s been about four hours since we got home.

Another knock comes, this time more insistent, and Tori takes off for the door, swinging her chubby pink ass as she goes. Definitely more of a people person than me, and right now, she’s dying to see who’s outside.

A chuff comes from the living room, and a smile pulls at my sore lips.

Guess I’m not moving fast enough for her.

With a deep breath, I carefully attempt to extricate myself from Ryker’s hold, but it’s harder than I expected. My head hurts, my body hurts, even my hair hurts, but none of it hurts as much as my soul.

Yesterday was close. Too close. Closer than I’ve let anyone get in a long damn time. I let my guard down. Something I know better than to do. This has been my biggest fear. Not death. A fate I consider worse. And for years I managed to evade it... until last night.

My eyes trace silently over Ryker’s face, my heart pounding furiously in my chest. I rarely let a man touch me. I’ve never let one carry me. Or sleep next to me. It’s never been safe in my world. But this one came in and turned all that on its head. Thankfully, there’s only a little bruising around his eye. His knuckles tell a different story. One that starts and stops with him saving my life.

And with that thought, my throat closes, and a sob catches.

No.

I will not go there.