Fade Out (The Morganville Vampires #7)(61)

“You keep saying that.” He sighs audibly. Then his gaze shifts and lands on something down the beach. Considering for a long moment before he says, “And when they do find out”—he looks at me—“and if they tell you to stop seeing me?”

A searing ache blooms beneath my breastbone. “I’ll fight that battle when it comes,” I say honestly. Truth is, I have no idea what I’ll do when that finally happens. I know it’s inevitable. It’s a future coming at me in supersonic speed, and I’m idly standing by, just waiting for the moment of impact.

“You’re not sure enough about me yet, though,” he says, low, the wind unable to mask the hurt in his voice. “Not enough to fight for us now.”

I shake my head, because that’s not at all true. But I have no idea why I fear an unknown future with Ryder. Why it’s so difficult to turn my back on a life that I don’t even want in order to choose him. “What do you want me to say, Ryder?” I tilt my head, tears brimming my eyes. I’m so angry. “That after a few intense weeks I’ve fallen helplessly in love with you, and I can’t imagine my life ever without you? That’s something from a romance novel. It can’t be real. Because if it is…” I feel a tear spill over, and I gasp on a sob. “If it’s real, then…”

His hands cup my face, lifting my gaze to his. “I swear to you, it’s real. Fight for us, Ari. I would wage the battle all on my own if I could. But it’s your choice that’s going to decide us.”

My eyes close. God, but I knew this couldn’t go on the way it was. And I’m not ready to give it up. I might never be ready.

“Take me to this dinner,” he says, and I open my eyes.

“What?”

He licks his lips. “Either don’t go this weekend, or take me with you to this dinner your stepmom’s been hounding you about. Stop letting your dad flaunt you around. Hell, stop letting him pimp you to eager, rich f*ckers wanting to expand their net worth.” His eyes spear me.

All the air vacates my lungs. The thought of introducing Ryder to my father’s friends and colleagues as my boyfriend layers on a whole new level of fear. My father would explode. No, that’s too simple a prediction. I honestly have no idea how my father would react.

When I disappointed him by being expelled from Dartmouth, he sent me away for four months. To rehab. Quietly, without any discussion. I trusted then it was because he was so angry he needed a good amount of time to calm down. Tempting him so close to that catastrophe by bringing Ryder to a family function would trigger a side of him I’m not sure I want to see. Not that he’s violent; he’s never laid a hand on me. But there are other things to fear other than violence.

Complete isolation.

The shut down.

It’s my father's preferred method of dealing with not only me, but everyone. And it’s the worst kind of punishment. Especially for someone who’s spent her whole life seeking acceptance, approval. I’m self-aware enough to admit it—even if it makes me feel just that much more pathetic.

“Ryder, I’m sorry,” I say, finally finding my voice. “But the last thing I’m going to do is parade you around in front of my family and their friends. That’s the absolute worst way to take a stand with my father.”

Running his palms over his jean-clad thighs, he stares down at the sand. “What do I have to do to prove to you that you’re it for me.” His eyes flick up to my face. “I know I’m not the top choice; I don’t have the bank account, or the family status—and my past is littered with a bit too much shame.” My heart pinches, and I open my mouth to stop him, but he presses on. “But I’ve watched you light up with me. You’re…happy is too simple a word. God, I wish I could express just how I know that this is right. It just is. So what do I need to do to prove myself to you?”

My knees are going numb as the cold, wet sand creeps past my jeans. My palms ache as my nails dig into my skin. I focus on these physical pains because they’re sobering and easier to deal with than the roiling of my heartache. If I could reach inside my chest and rip the thing out, I would. It’s doing nothing, nothing for Ryder beating in my chest.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” I say, pushing each word past the thickness closing my throat. Then, because I’m so far lost to him, so irreversibly undone, I crawl onto his lap and wrap myself around him.

At first, the tension in his body radiates off him in bands. Tight, corded muscles refusing to relax. Then reluctantly, his arms embrace me, his hand cupping the back of my head and holding me to his chest. I listen to his ramped heartbeat. His heavy breaths.

“I’m yours,” I say, inhaling his scent deeply, wanting nothing more than to stay like this for however long he’ll allow me. “My father be damned. I’ll find a way to make him understand. We both will. Together.” They’re the words my soul has been yearning to scream. “I’ll fight for us.”

I’ve never taken a vow more seriously. This man, I love him. And whether tomorrow brings fights, uncertainty, sorrow, regret—there’s no one else I’d rather face down those challenges with. He’s completely and thoroughly upended my world. And I’m his.

“Trust me,” he whispers in my ear. “I’ll protect you. I’ll be the man you need.”