Page 97 of Reveal

“Because I’m fucking miserable sitting here not knowing when I get to see you next. Because you and I are better when we’re together, even if a meteor might strike. Because why would we let us be anything else?”

“A work in progress,” I say to cut him off.

“Exactly.” His laugh makes me smile. “So do I get to see you again?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

I hesitate to answer, even though every part of me is screaming yes.

What I’m fighting against I’m not quite sure.

My battle against needing someone? My fear that he’s bad for me and therefore I don’t need him? Or is it my fear that he just might be that fairytale ending that Lucy always watches? The one that’s never happily ever after until you turn to the very last page?

Maybe I’m just trying to see what chapter we’re on so I know how much more there is to our story until we can turn to that ride-off-into-the-sunset page.

“When?” I finally respond.

“Yes, when?”

“The next few days.”

“Should I pick you—”

“I’ll come to you.” I draw in a shaky breath, suddenly nervous. “Good night, Ryker.”

“Good night.”

And when I end the call and hold my cell to my chest, the smile on my lips just might reflect a glass half-full.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Vaughn

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Exhaustion etches the lines of his face, but his expression is one of pure surprise when he sees me standing out front of his office building.

“Truth be told, I was debating whether to come in and see you.”

“Yes. The answer is always yes.” He says the words but doesn’t make a move toward me.

We stand and stare at each other like two awkward teenagers for a few moments as the world buzzes on around us. People are leaving for a night out after work. Some are rushing home.

But it’s just Ryker in his sleek suit, a little rumpled, a lot sexy, and me in my exercise clothes with a bag under my arm that holds my uniform for work.

“You’re leaving early today.” I take a step closer, knowing he typically leaves the office long after rush hour, and reach out to run a hand down his cheek. “You look exhausted.”

When I go to pull my hand away, he reaches out and keeps it where it is with his hand over mine before turning his face toward it and kissing my palm. It’s such an unexpected action that it takes me a moment to process his public display of affection.

“It’s been a long week,” he murmurs into my hand before bringing it down to link his fingers with mine.

“Everything okay?”

I can see him mentally run through all the things that have gone wrong for him this week, although he doesn’t verbalize anything.

And sadly, by my own fault, I see him differently for the first time. How selfish have I been to always need him and not realize he just might need me too? That he has rough days and difficult clients to deal with? That maybe just as he brings me comfort, I bring him the same?

Why have I been so blind to this? So selfish? Always retreating into myself when trouble strikes instead of turning to him?