She finally sniffed, then breathed in, pulling herself together. “I love you too,” she said, straightening. “Get some sleep. And don’t sneak out on me.”
“Promise, and promise.”
She watched me for a moment then bent to give me a kiss on my cheek. I stroked the back of her thick, smooth hair.
“See you in the morning,” I said.
She nodded, wiped at one eye then straightened, and walked out of the room.
Chapter 24
I JERKED awake in the middle of the night. Someone was in the room with me. I thought it might be the night nurse, and tried to scrub an itch by my eye, but was too drowsy to lift my hand. They must have upped the dose on my medicines because even my tongue felt numb. I finally opened my eyes, rolled my head to one side.
A figure sat slumped in the chair by my bed, head bent into one hand with elbow propped on knee, other hand extended and resting on the back of my hand. I knew that silhouette.
“Ryder?” I whispered.
He stiffened slightly, raised his head. The only light in the room slipped pale and watery from under the door, just enough to see his face.
Had he been crying?
“Delaney.” Spoken so softly, though there were only the two of us in the room. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” My heart picked up a beat.
Was there something else that had happened? Was someone else hurt?
“I shouldn’t have left you. I should have stayed. This is my fault. Us. This. All this.”
He wasn’t making any sense. He looked angry.
“I got shot. That doesn’t have anything to do with you. Part of the job. My job.”
He shook his head once, his eyes going hard, lips pressed in a frown. He was pulling away, even though he hadn’t shifted an inch. He was leaving me. Ending us. Even as he sat right there, his hand on mine.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was low, soft, and so very, very cold. “Last night was a mistake.”
“No,” I breathed.
He went on as if I hadn’t spoken, his words even, almost recited. “I left this morning because I realized you got the wrong idea. That it might be something more than one night. I was just up for a good time. Curious, after all this time of knowing you, what it would be like.”
He shrugged, patted my hand, and pulled back. “But you wanted something more, right?” He lifted one eyebrow and gave me a smirk I wanted to smack off his face. “I’ll still help out with the rally. If you want me to work a different shift, there’s no hard feelings.”
He sat there. As if it were nothing. As if last night were nothing. As if I were nothing.
Jerk.
“You are not breaking up with me in a hospital, Ryder Bailey.”
“I am.”
Silence stretched out around that statement, a hungry blackness growing between us.
“We can still be friends,” he said.
“Can we?” My heart was screaming, my stomach sick. The power song roared and raged in my head and my body hurt. But for Ryder Bailey, I smiled. “I think that’s over now too,” I said calmly. “No hard feelings.”
He glanced away from my gaze, swallowed once, then met my eyes again. There was nothing to read in his expression. Nothing in his body language that matched the pain in me.
