Fade Out (The Morganville Vampires #7)(79)

I nod slowly, processing her words. “And your friend gave you this speech?”

She hikes one shoulder in a half shrug. “I may have altered it just a bit for you, but it’s good stuff.”

I laugh a little, blinking away the gathered tears. “Got it. And is that how you’re living these days? Balanced?”

“Yeah. I’ve finally found some balance.”

“I’m assuming Boone has a little to do with that.” I wriggle my eyebrows at her.

“Shit. He has everything to do with it. That boy is one fine piece of heartwood, let me tell you.” I laugh, and she smiles easily. “I’m glad you sent me that message.”

I reach over, and she meets me halfway for a hug. I suppress a wince, my body still angry at my mistreatment.

“All right,” she says, pulling back and fanning her hands in front of her eyes. “I don’t do tears. Stop with all that.”

I sit up a bit. “Where is Boone, by the way? You didn’t ditch him on the road or anything to be with me, did you?”

She shakes her head. “We were cruising through the Keys when I got your text. He tailed me up here, and he’s at a hotel now. I wanted to see you on my own.”

My chest pangs. “Thank you,” I say, because I know she probably didn’t even take a pit stop in order to get here as quickly as she did.

“You’d have done it for me.” She mock punches my arm. “And I was really curious about this Bobcat you snagged. Had to make sure he was treating my girl right.”

“He’s perfect for me,” I say.

When the nurse forces Mel to leave and declares visiting hours over, I throw back the covers and push the call button. She reenters quickly.

“I need to see my boyfriend,” I demand.

She holds up her hand. “I can’t do that—”

“It’s an emergency,” I say. “Are you a football fan?” Like most people around here, I’d be surprised to hear her claim otherwise.

She raises her eyebrows, and I say, “If you don’t let me talk to him, there are going to be a lot of unhappy Braxton fans.”





30





Ryder





The right words. I need them this second to convince Ari to look at me. To make her understand that nothing has changed for me—that there’s nothing she can ever do to remove my feelings for her.

What kind of writer never has the right words?

“Don’t do that.” I lean over and press a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“Do what?” she asks, but I suspect she knows exactly what I’m calling her out on.

“Avoid. There’s no reason to feel ashamed around me.” I brush her long layers away from her face. “Three weeks ago…we’re never going to talk about it,” I say. “It’s forgotten. It’s a blip, a fumble. This right here is our official start of forever, Ari. So, please, look me in the eyes.”

She blinks, then her gaze flicks up to meet mine. I want to fall into those bottomless amber irises and not have to go through this part. I just want her to know that I’m not upset, and that I’m not judging her. What she’s battling takes precedence over my injured ego. I’m not broken, and I’m far from scared off. She doesn’t owe me an explanation, or even a promise. I only need to know that she’ll let me be here for her.

But before I can voice any of these thoughts, she stuns me speechless.

“I love you,” she says. Those three words that are so often taken for granted…coming from Ari’s lips…for me, are everything. I will always desire to hear them. I will do whatever it takes to help her through this so she can voice them freely.

“You love me,” I say, and she nods. “Then that’s all that matters.”

She shakes her head against the pillow. “But it’s not, Ryder. I need you to do something for me.”

The jolt in my heart knocks the air from my lungs. “What?”

“Win the championship.”

Running a hand through my hair, I suck in a deep breath. “Ari, I made my choice—and I don’t regret it.” I widen my eyes, unblinking, to hold her stare. “And if I had to do it again, I’d trade the past four years of perfect passes and touchdowns if that’s what it took to be here with you now.”

Taking my hand, she laces our fingers together. I love the feel of her soft, delicate hands. I want nothing more than to wrap myself around her and shield her from this pain so that she doesn’t have to face it.

“But I told you before”—she reaches up to rest her palm against my face—“with me, you don’t have to choose. There’s time, Ryder. I’m not asking out of guilt; I’m demanding out of love. I want you to win this game for yourself…and maybe a little bit for me.” She bats her eyelashes dramatically, and I laugh.

“Oh, so we’re demanding things now.” I shake my head, but the truth of her words crash over me, liberating. “I don’t want to leave you,” I admit.

“You’re not. Not really.” She points to the flatscreen. “I’ll be watching the whole time. But you need to go. Like, now. You can make it, and I’ll be here safe and ready to have all kinds of revelations and uncomfortable conversations when you get back.”