“I couldn’t see that,” he says. “I got locked in this obsession to be great, to be the best. Distractions weren’t part of the plan, so I didn’t get close to people. Didn’t dare, because I couldn’t stomach losing anyone like I lost you and . . .” He catches himself, but I know the stubborn man was about to say Drake.
Exactly like with my brother, love is still there. I have a feeling if they would step down off their massive boxes of too much pride, Ryder and Drake would be able to untangle the bitterness of the last ten years.
Ryder pulls into his driveway, turns off his ignition, but makes no move to leave the car. I lean my head on his shoulder and let the quiet surround us.
“Back to your concern,” he says softly. “If Drake can’t accept that I’m still completely in love with you, then it’s on him.”
My heart stalls in my chest. I lift my head. Ryder’s eyes are glassy in the darkened car. He doesn’t look away, doesn’t blink. I lied earlier, this isn’t a whirlwind, this is a beautiful collision, a speeding train aimed at something amazing at the end.
How is it not even a month ago, the broken pieces of my heart were barely glued together, and now they’re faded and nearly forgotten?
I place one palm on the side of his face and pull his mouth to mine. I kiss him like I should’ve kissed him when he left all those years ago. I kiss him so he knows, so he’llalwaysknow, I want each tomorrow with him, each goodnight, each moment.
Our breaths tangle as he kisses me deeper. He grips my hair. A furrow to his brow tells me he’s feeling more than he can say. I curl my arms around his neck and hold him tighter against me. Only once we pull back to catch a breath do I realize my cheeks are wet with tears.
Ryder kisses them away. “Why are you crying?”
“Because.” I trap his face in my hands and press our brows together. “If you ever doubt what I feel for you again, I want you to remember this. I can’t keep in how much I love you, Ryder Huntington. Look.” I point to the tears, laughing. “It just spills out! I’ve loved you since I was ten years old. You’ve known every good and every dark piece of me, and you’re the only one who has. Don’t you ever use words like settling ever again. You are not someone I’d settle for; you are my dream.”
He smiles and kisses me again. He kisses me until we can’t see outside anymore. Then, once we’re inside, he kisses me even more.
Ava
“I’m hyperventilating.”Sasha takes a gulp of wine and takes in the whole room.
“You’ll be fine.” I laugh and thread my arm through hers.
“Are you kidding? Avie, I’m about to walk into a room withfamouspeople. A lot of famous people.”
I shake my head, but understand where she’s coming from. It took some getting used to for me, knowing Ryder’s close circle consisted of a hefty amount of celebrities. Truth be told, everyone I’ve met is down to earth, kind, and easy to get along with.
Sasha will get used to it.
Something has shifted within Ryder. Where he was withdrawn and slightly on the outskirts with his teammates, he’s, perhaps unknowingly, letting them all in.
The day after Thanksgiving, Ryder was the one who suggested we do a little something extra since we’d both gone with family the day before.
So, after I picked myself up from falling off my chair thathewas the brains behind the idea, my little cottage filled up with the Knights, the Marks, Dax, and even Bridger and Alexis Cole stopped over for a second dessert party. In the end, everyone in Perfectly Broken showed up, including Mason Walker and his family, and a guy named Quinn, who does security for the band.
If anyone looked stern it was Quinn. But I’m pretty sure I won him over with my pumpkin pie.
Now, a week into December, Ryder once again surprised the greater area of Las Vegas and invited people to his house.
His. Not mine. Not Parker’s. His. Home.
He almost canceled three hours ago, but it is a particularly satisfying thing knowing I’m once more here, at his side, hopefully being the small voice in his ear that tells him he’s got this. He can let people into his tight-knit, amazingly wonderful heart.
“I don’t know how to entertain,” he’d said, a touch of panic in his voice as he helped me rearrange the furniture.
“Where is Ride or Die?”
“He chose option two and died.”
I laughed and kissed him long enough his muscles relaxed, and he became a delicious putty to mold how I saw fit.
“You’ve got this,” I whispered as I kneaded his palm like I always used to do. “You don’t need to entertain. These people like you, they’re your friends. It’s too late anyway.”
“Why?”
