I wondered if he could hear my breathing too, wondered if he strained for more of me like I strained for more ofhim.
Wondered if he could hear the diner around me as Nat King Cole’s buttered-rum vocals wished us all a MerryChristmas.
“Delaney?” Rydersaid.
“Yes?”
“There’s something important I’ve been meaning to tellyou.”
“Yes?”
“Oooh,” Bathin said. “Here it comes. He loves you. Or he’s breaking up with you. Fifty-fifty chance here, no wronganswer.”
I flipped him off. Hegrinned.
“Something I should have said a long time ago,” Rydersaid.
“He’s finally gonna say it. Love? Hate?” Bathin pressed his palms together in prayer position and looked to the heavens. “Hold me,Jesus.”
I glared at him. To Ryder I said, “Okay.”
“I don’t know why it’s taken me so long.” Ryder paused. “But...”
I held my breath. Waited. Everything in me tingled with a rush ofexcitement.
The boy I’d had a crush on all my life, the man I’d fallen in love with, was finally going to say the three words I’d been waiting tohear.
Maybe Jean was right. Christmas wasromantic.
“…tell Spud I miss him,okay?”
Reality slammed back into place with the smell of grease, ketchup, and wet coats mixed with the overly-loud dinnercrowd.
A Christmas song I despised, sung by rodents who should not have gotten their own movie, much less a sequel, added to thenoise.
The demon across the table from me grinned like a fool and sighed happily, enjoying my emotionalwhiplash.
“Spud,” I said in the most blasé tone Iowned.
“Spud.” Was that a hint of laughter in his voice? Was Ryder teasingme?
“Yourdog.”
“Last Iknew.”
“Tell your dog, you miss him. Yourdog.”
“Yes. Because I do. Oh, and there’s one morething.”
Pause. Maybe for dramatic effect, maybe for navigating a tricky spot in whatever road he wasdriving.
“Tell Spud that I lovehim.”
Really? I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared atit.
Was he pranking me? Had Jean called him behind my back and told him about ourconversation?
I knew Ryder loved me, because he’d proved it over and over again with hisactions.
