Is that all I am to him? His best friend’s little sister?
“Argh!” I cry out, and Ryder rushes to my side.
“Are you all right?” he asks, his strong hand gripping the upper part of my arm.
I whirl around and face him. “Why are you doing this?”
His eyes widen, and he drops his arm. “Doing what?”
“Being so nice to me!”
His brow furrows. “I…what?”
“You brought me to the theater, you wear my bracelet, you gave me your jacket—you even gave me Galileo!” I hold up my little green friend in accusation. “Why are you doing this?”
He keeps his eyes on me but doesn’t answer.
My lips press together in frustration. “Then you do things like push me away from you when Rosalie makes a joke about us kissing! And you get mad about the possibility of me getting romantically involved with someone.” I inhale deeply and cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t understand what’s going on, and I’m getting really annoyed.”
We stand there, staring at each other, my chest heaving and heart pounding in my chest. I’m finally telling him how I feel, using my voice just like he taught me. And now I just have to wait for his answer.
His eyes darken, and he takes one deliberate step toward me. “You want to know why I act this way?”
I swallow hard and drop my arms, his intensity catching me off guard. “I…yes.”
He steps toward me again. “You want to know why I’ve given you everything I possibly can. Why I’ve taken care of you—not just by keeping you safe, but truly caring for you.”
My throat is dry, and my tongue feels stuck. All I can do is nod.
He’s just inches from me now. “You want to know why I don’t want you to get romantically involved with someone.”
I nod again.
His voice is low and gravelly. “Because I can’t stand the thought of anyone other than me getting to do this.” One of his hands grabs my hip, pulling me toward him. The other hand is on the back of my head, his thumb on my cheek. He pulls me in and crushes his lips to mine.
It takes a moment to register what’s happening.
Ryder Hawthorne.
Is kissing.
ME.
And not just kissing. His lips run over mine, full of unbridled passion and longing that he’s been keeping beneath the surface. Longing that matches mine.
Holy smokes.
His hand grips my hip, and my hands find their way around his neck and into his hair. He groans and pulls me tighter to him, wrapping his arm around my waist and holding me flush against his body, cradling my head in his hand and leaning me back so he can properly kiss me. I’ve never felt safer and more secure than being wrapped in his arms.
He pulls back after what seems like too short a time. I tilt my head to look at him, and he gazes down at me. As he smooths down my hair, he whispers, “Lily Stone, you have completely stolen my heart.”
He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, and my heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest. My mind is still trying to wrap around this sudden shift.
He doesn’t see me as his best friend’s little sister. He doesn’t see me as a littlegirl.
I’ve stolen his heart.
He pulls his lips from my skin and looks down at me. “Did that clear things up?”
