Anger and disbelief and arousal unfurl inside me, elbowing for space. I hurtle his way, nearly falling on my face after tripping on a root.
That’s when he sees me. Our eyes meet, and everything inside me heaves.
Holy God, he’s really here.
How’d he find me? Why come all this way?
Even in the dark, he looks good. The backward baseball hat, a barn jacket, broad shoulders. Jeans and boots and eyes that pierce the inky blackness around us like two bright blue beacons.
A throb ignites between my legs. It’s the kind of deep,deepdesire that immediately catches fire and consumes my entire body in the space of a single heartbeat.
I’m burning up, and it’s all for him. The man who wants to bejust friends.
I’m moving toward him before I know what I’m doing. I’m shaking and sweating despite the cool night air.
Did he somehow get bigger since I saw him last? Because he towers over me when we come to a stop barely a foot from each other.
Without a word he grabs my cup, tosses its contents onto the ground, and drops it into the nearby trash bag that hangs from a tree branch.
I want to speak. To cuss him out or beg him to kiss me orsomething. But my mouth isn’t working.
People watch as he grabs my hand—what in the world is happening, oh my God, what in the world—and gives me a none-too-gentle tug toward the night that surrounds us.
“Ryder?” I feel stupid. His grip on my hand is firm, unyielding. “What—why are you here? Where are we going? How did you find me?”
No answer.
He leads me back toward his truck, just out of everyone’s earshot.
“You’re a fucking brat, you know that?” His voice is low. Gravelly.
I decidenotto rise to the occasion.
“Thank you. But also: Excuse me?” I stop, tugging on his hand to make him face me. He does, his boots catching with a small sigh in the dirt.
“Hemakes you feel better?” Ryder continues. “Are you serious?”
Anger bubbles up at the back of my throat, along with a hefty dose ofwhat the actual fuck?
Maybe that’s why I say something stupid. “Yes, really.”
“A bratanda liar.”
“Hey. Call me anything you want except a liar.”
Only, he’s right.
He’s right to call me out. He doesn’t put up with my bullshit, and I like that. I respect that.
Ilovethat about him.
“Aim higher.” Ryder is back to grunting at me.
My heartbeat trips to a sudden, painful stop. “I tried. With you.”
Dead silence. The lack of noise is unnerving. It becomes a throbbing, living thing that fills my ears and chokes off my air supply as Ryder’s head falls back and he closes his eyes.
“I’m no better,” he says at last. “You know that.”
