Aelin pressed her lips together. “Oh. Thank you.”
“They said I wasn’t allowed to read the story because I can’t do the voices.”
Aelin grinned, her cheeks heating. “It is a very advanced skill.” She walked over and sat next to him on the bed, suddenly not caring that she only had a strip of cotton covering her. “I know exactly what you mean, by the way. I’ve felt so guilty for so long for so many things, I’ve used up all my credits.”
Ryan dropped his head, looking at his hands. He twisted his wedding band around his finger. “I sometimes wonder what the point is.”
“Of what?”
“Of anything.” He exhaled in a rush. “Sorry. This definitely isn’t Fun Ryan.”
Aelin laughed. “He was out there on the porch, I think.”
Ryan grinned, but his eyes were still sad. “I felt good aboutthat. Kissing you. I haven’t . . . ” He groaned, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Embarrassing.”
Aelin grabbed onto his wrist. “Can you stop that, please? It’s not embarrassing that you loved someone. It’s not embarrassing that you had that taken away from you, and it’s not embarrassing that you didn’t want to move on.”
Ryan dropped his hands, twisting his arm to flatten his palm against hers, and heat flashed under her skin. She stared at her fingers twining with his. “I feel good about this. I felt good about it on the boat, too.”
Ryan nodded. “Yeah.”
“I don’t think—” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “There’s not a manual for this. I remember when I had Bailey, I checked every book out from the library. I scoured the internet for blogs—remember people used to do those?”
“No, but continue.”
She bit her lip. “I was sure that I could do it right, and since I was obviously doing marriage wrong, I put all my hopes in that basket.” Aelin ran her thumb over his. “I got some good ideas, but the experts never had answers for my exact situation. What do you do when your husband yells at your three-year-old when she draws on his shoes with a pen?” She shook her head. “The only way I got away from Clark was by trusting my gut more than everyone else’s opinions.”
Ryan tapped her knuckles. “And what if . . . ” He cleared his throat. “What if your gut is the problem?”
Aelin looked up. “Maybe then you go back to the basics.” She pulled her hand from his and brushed the hair from his cheek. Ryan’s eyes shuttered. He leaned into her touch, pressing his lips against her palm.
She swallowed, her throat constricting as words pooled in her mouth. “Are you ready for bed?”
Ryan shook his head. “I need to brush my teeth.”
Aelin nodded. “Me, too. Meet back here in three?”
His brow twitched. “Oddly specific.”
“I don’t want to wait for five.”
Where the hell had that come from?Ryan’s pupils dilated. He stood and stalked into the washroom, and Aelin went to the dresser. She pulled on a pair of cotton underwear and a tank top, then took up residence next to him at the sink.
They brushed, rinsed, then made their way back into the bedroom. Ryan stood at the foot of the bed, and Aelin walked to the headboard, pulling off the decorative pillows and tossing them on the floor. “I don’t want you to sleep on the floor tonight.”
His jaw worked, but he didn’t refute the statement. His eyes dropped to her hips, then dragged over her torso. She pulled back the covers, then walked to stand in front of him.
Her pulse picked up speed. “I want—” She paused, not sure if she could say it out loud. “I want you to hold me. If that’s okay.” The idea of going to bed alone after feeling him next to her made her insides feel like overbaked clay.
He wet his lips. “Okay.”
Aelin nodded once, then walked to the door. She closed it and flicked off the light, then padded back to the bed.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
Ryan woke earlythe next morning, his body on autopilot from years of early morning practices and then morning commutes. His reality draped over him in layers. He was lying in bed, but not alone. A leg threaded between his. His heartbeat seemed to be doubled.
