His jaw muscles clench once and then again, but he sighs heavily. “Always too smart for your own good,” he mutters, moving closer.
He hovers over me, and I grab his gray T-shirt and pull him close. “Thank you for getting there in time.”
His lips press against mine, but I feel the distance right away. The coldness of his touch. The lack of passion. Really, the lack of anything. “Seriously, you can’t still be upset that I swan-dived into that guy?” I ask, the second his lips leave mine. “It’s a few stitches, Ryder. No big deal.”
He leans away, giving me a very hard look. “Kissing you got us into this mess in the first place. If you didn’t feel the need to protect me, you wouldn’t be hurt right now.”
“That’s stupid,” I tell him sternly.
“Stupid?” he repeats.
“Yes, stupid.” I push off the sheets a little, revealing the hospital gown, as my skin flushes hot. “I would’ve tried to help you, regardless of the fact that we’ve been intimate.”
“I highly doubt that,” he states matter-of-factly, crossing his arms again. “Until this is all over and I know no one else is involved, this, us, is a bad idea. And you’re hurt. This isn’t the time to give in to lust.”
This isn’t the time to give in to lust. I’m shell-shocked at what’s come from his mouth. Ryder is lust. He breathes it like fire. Lust is what we got built on. I search his eyes to understand where he’s coming from. I’m not sure how I didn’t notice it before, but there’s coldness in his eyes that I remember. It’s the same coldness I’d seen in his eyes for the entire year that he’d put the wall up between us. “That whole speech right there is stupid, too. Sex with you will make me feel better, and will make you feel better, too,” I say playfully, trying to get him to lighten up. “We’ve been through hell and back. Come here and let’s feel better.” I try reaching for him.
He frowns, steps back. “We are in a hospital, Hadley.”
That would never have stopped him before, and I know that. Ryder’s kinky—he’d love some random sex in an unexpected place, especially with me. I’m not ready to give up, regardless of the stone wall he’s placing between us.
Deep down, I know I can’t let him shut me out. We won’t ever recover. Because the second he refu
ses the lust between us, it’s over. Because in my soul, I sadly know that’s all he’ll give me. “So what?” I implore, and I know I’m desperate, scrambling to get a connection with him. “Tell the guards outside not to let anyone in.”
He snorts, crossing those arms again, bulging his biceps that I ever so badly want to touch. “How do you know there are guards outside the door?”
“Because you’re you and I know you would ensure that there are.”
He watches me a moment, then shakes his head. “Regardless, this cannot happen.”
I don’t know what happened between when I saw him in the bathroom at my parents’ house and now, but whatever it is, it isn’t good. “So, we’re back to this, are we?” I stare at him, knowing I shouldn’t feel rejected that he’s pulling away, though I do. “Will you ever not look at me like I’m only the senator’s daughter? Will you ever not look at me like I’m the biggest mistake you’ve ever touched?”
I don’t know what he sees on my face or if it’s my words, but it changes his expression in a flash. I can’t get a read on him at all. “You being the senator’s daughter is a fact, not something we can ignore.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I tell him, my heart now in my throat.
His voice softens. “It does matter, because now you feel like I regret touching you, and I don’t. This isn’t about thinking you’re a mistake and not wanting to take you right here, right now, and make us both feel better.”
“Then do it,” I implore.
“I can’t,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “Every time I close my eyes, I see that goddamn gun to your head. I hear the fear in your voice. I see the horror in your eyes.”
“I want you,” I whisper, trying to get his mind off all that happened.
“I know you do, and that’s the problem. I can’t give you what you need right now.” The emotion his eyes contain blindsides me, but breaks my heart all the same. He’s torn, and this is—I am—ripping him apart.
“Ryder,” I whisper, attempting to bring him back to me.
He stays silent, studying me intently.
I don’t know what to do, or what to say, to fix this. I knew the hurdles we faced. I admitted them to myself in the bathroom after my father had been shot. Maybe I even thought we could get past them somehow. But now, looking at him, I see he’s fallen right back into that role. He’s the protector. I’m the woman he shouldn’t have touched, because now things are very complicated.
“I can’t do this anymore,” he says, and it’s obvious he didn’t even hear me calling his name. He’s looking at me, but not really seeing me. His mind far drawn into himself, he’s not even hearing me calling out to him, over and over again. “This has to stop.”
Then he does what he used to do—he leaves, shattering my heart into pieces.
Chapter 19