Dare You To (Pushing the Limits, #2)(136)

His heart beats several times before he speaks again.      “Why?”

Because I was stupid. “I don’t know....” I don’t have Ryan’s      way with words. They’re hard for me. Difficult. At least words that have      emotion. “I guess it was easier to believe that you used me rather than loved      me. To be honest...I don’t get it. Why would someone like you want to be with      someone like me?”

Ryan tips my chin up so that I have to look him in the eye.      “Because I love you. Beth—you’re everything I want to be. You’re alive and live      without apology. I never would have made love to you if I thought you didn’t      trust me...or love me. And I never would have done it if I didn’t trust and love      you.”

I lean up on my elbow and my heart is practically yanked out      of my chest by the hurt in his eyes. “I do love you, and I want to trust you....      It’s just that...I try.... And...”

Just damn. I slam my good hand on the bed. Why can’t I      explain it? Why am I so impaired?

“Hey.” The authority in his tone causes me to meet his gaze.      My heart stalls when Ryan caresses my cheek with one finger and, under his      touch, my skin turns red. I miss this. I’ve missed him. Maybe I’m not f*cking      this all up.

“Breathe,” he instructs. “It’s okay. Take your time, but      just keep talking.”

Keep talking. I actually stick out my tongue in disgust and      Ryan fights a smile. If he weren’t so battered already I’d sock his arm. I blow      out a rush of air and try again.

“I don’t know.... I just don’t...trust...me.” I blink and so      does Ryan and it feels sort of scary and exposing to have said something so raw.      He rubs my arm, urging me to continue, and I don’t know how to continue. That’s      bull. I just don’t want to continue. But this is beyond what I want. This is      about me and Ryan.

“I don’t want to make bad choices anymore.” I glance at him,      hoping I’m making sense, because I’m not sure that I am. “And I sort of think      that any choice is bad because I’m making it and then I meet you and you’re      great and you’re wonderful and you love me and I love you and I’m just so damned      scared I’m going to screw it all up....”

I slam my eyes shut and my lower lip trembles. “And I did. I      messed it all up again.”

Ryan cups my cheek with his palm. I lean into it and open my      eyes. “I’m glad it happened,” he says.

“I thought they ran an MRI on your head.”

His eyes laugh. “They did. Just answer me this—before Trent      arrived, were you going to leave with me?”

I swallow and I’m nodding before I answer. “Yes.”

“Why?”

My eyes narrow as I try to understand the question.

“No, Beth. Don’t think about it. Just give me the first      answer that comes to mind. Why were you going to leave with me?”

My eyes flash to his and my mouth pops open. No, it’s not      possible, because if it is, then it’s a first for me.

The same hope I’ve seen a million times from Ryan builds on      his face. Is it possible he’s known all along? “Say it, Beth.”

“I love you.” Those used to be the hard words, but now      they’re easier. I exhale and the air shakes as it comes out of my mouth.

“Nice try,” he says. “The other thing. Say that.”

“Ryan...” My throat dries out and sweat forms along my      hairline. “I’m scared.”

“I know.” He tucks my hair behind my ear. “But it’s      okay.”

His fingers slowly trail down my arm, over my sling, and he      rests his fingertips against mine. A warmth unfurls within me, starting in my      heart and flowing through my bloodstream. It creates a weird sensation of chains      unlocking and breaking free. It’s almost as if I’m floating.

“I trust you,” I say. “I was going to leave with you because      I trust you.”

Ryan’s silent, but the small, peaceful smile on his face      causes me to smile in return. I wonder if my smile looks like his. I trust him.      Ryan. It’s a little scary, but not as much as I thought it would be. Maybe this      is it; maybe this is the beginning Scott’s talked about for months—the clean      slate.