Epilogue
RYDER
Six Months Later
I stare at myself in the mirror and blow out a long, slow breath.
This is nuts.
I tap her name and wait.
“Hey.” Lyla’s chipper voice fills my ear, and I really need her to take it down a few notches.
“I need you to tell me what in the hell I’m supposed to do.”
“Oookaaayy. I need a topic or subject. Something.”
I hear her shuffling around. “Where are you?”
“New York. I’m packing.”
She’s alone. I leave the bathroom and sit on the edge of the bed, running a hand through my damp hair.
I inhale a deep breath. “I think I’m ready.” I shove it out.
There’s only the sound of a zipper. “Ready for what?”
I roll my eyes, really wishing she could see. “Sex,” I blurt, needing her to catch up.
Nothing. Dead silence.
“Wow. Ok. This is big.”
I sense her sitting down to give me her full attention.
“Ry, you know how to do that.”
I groan. “Ly, I clearly know how to have sex, but this is different. What if I freak out in the middle of it or can’t.
. . ” My mind spins with all the ways in which I don’t want to screw this up.
“My body wants it, but my stupid brain just won’t shut up.
You’re so comfortable with your body. I need that. To be comfortable with something.”
It takes her a second, but then her calm voice takes over.
“First, you’re clearly very comfortable if you want to get it on.
” There’s amusement in her tone, but this is no time for teasing.
“Second, this is different. Standing naked in front of people is one thing. Getting naked with someone, it’s a deep intimacy that terrifies the crap out of me. ”
She pauses, and her admission soothes my nerves.
“But it should, I think. Otherwise, it’s just a physical act that doesn’t mean anything.
I think that might be why you’re overthinking this.
You’re not scared of Cole. You’re just afraid of the past taking this from you, too.
That it’ll creep into what’s supposed to be exciting and amazing and special. ”
“So, what do I do? Just wait until I can’t stand it anymore?”
“Ry, talk to him. Tell him what you want and that you’re nervous. Hell, I bet even people with healthy sexual backgrounds are nervous.”
I slap a hand over my face. “Ha. Just walk out there and say, ‘Hey, I want you, and I’m not really sure how it will be or if I’ll lose my shit in the middle of it.
Or, fair warning, I might not like it or be able to relax my body.
And if once we’re done, I’ll ever want to do it again.
’” I breathe. “I’m certain those are all the things a guy wants to hear. ”
Sweat starts to pool underneath my clean armpits. I rest my head in my hand.
“Ry.” Lyla’s got her bossy pants on now. “I’m going to ask a very personal question, so prepare yourself.”
I want to plug my ears, but this is why I called her. “Great. Can’t wait.”
“When you’re making out with him, do you like it and feel safe? When things slow, you don’t want to stop?”
“Yes.” I don’t even have to think about it.
“Then, get your cute behind in the other room and tell him you’re ready. No more thinking. Let him love you like that. Let yourself love him back. This is a huge step. It’s part of the healing.”
She pauses. “Giving yourself to someone by choice, because you want to, is a really big deal. You need to tell your brain to shut the hell up. This is different, Ry. This is about love. The deep, all-consuming kind. You need to remember that and let go of everything else.”
“You sound awfully sure for someone who’s terrified, too.”
“Ry, I am terrified, but mostly that I won’t ever meet someone whom I want to give myself to in that way. Someone I feel safe with. Not just sex, but love. Now, quit stalling and get in there.”
“But, what if—”
“Goooo. And don’t call me back until you’ve at least told him you’re ready to see what lovemaking is all about.”
I groan, and she laughs.
“I love you,” she sings.
“Even when I don’t,” I grumble.
“Oh, and Ry. Have fun.” I hear the smile in her tone as she hangs up.
I flop back on the bed.
Just talk to him.
We’ve done plenty of that over the past few months.
I stare at the ceiling, the peacefulness of this place settling around me.
It’s been weeks of nothing but quiet, fresh mountain air.
Cole and I have hiked, sat by the fire at night, and talked into the wee hours of the morning, just as we have these past months.
I’ve shared with him pieces of my life before Tracker found me, and he’s still here, loving me, just like he said he would be.
When we returned from London, Cole and his agent met with the Stingrays and renegotiated his contract. After next season, he’ll be a free agent. It gives him a year to scope out his next career move and time for us to be together.
Cole is renting a house in Miami, and Jos has taken over Jamie’s room in the townhouse, but complains because I’m never there.
I’ve been assisting the FBI, and my days are filled with reviewing files and surveillance, helping them understand and track Nichol’s underground dealings.
TJ signed on as well, and we’re only beginning to discover how deep and wide his workings spread.
But through it all, Cole was determined to make sure he could still spend time with Matt, and staying in Miami made that possible. Bit by bit, we’ve watched that little boy come back to life now that he’s living with Track and Hope.
How could I not love this man? I run a hand over my face, knowing how much I want to give all of myself to him, but I’m nervous. Not of him, but of my past, taking from me all that I want this to be.
Cole’s been so incredibly patient. Always backing off and never pushing things further, but now, I want him to, and I guess I need to tell him that.
I curl up and stand, forcing myself to be brave and take back another thing stolen from me so long ago—the ability to give myself to a man I love without fear.
I leave the bedroom and find Cole, shirtless, his joggers low on his waist, focused on his phone.
I take him in. All long, lean muscle and smooth skin. Skin that I know exactly what it feels like. His familiar scent, sounds, and movements. The way his hands and body feel compared to all others. But I want a chance to know all of him.
A sly smile creeps across his mouth, but his eyes remain on his phone. “You’re staring.”
I keep staring at all the gorgeous, humble self-assuredness that makes me feel so safe and secure. He makes me brave.
“No, I’m not.”
He peeks at me from under his long, dark eyelashes, but then his head slowly drags up.
I’m not self-conscious about my body. I just don’t give people access to it, and Cole knows this. I like baggy sweats, but I stand in only his T-shirt.
I bite the corner of my lip. “You’re staring.”
That smile returns. “Yes, I am.”
I look away, trying not to smile, but dammit, I can’t. I take a few steps closer to him. He watches me.
“What are you doing?” I gesture to his phone, but his eyes don’t leave mine.
“They sent out the schedule for next week.”
The Stingrays’s camp starts next week, and we have to be back in Miami. I’m not ready to leave the quietness of this place. The kind of quiet that gives me courage.
I move to him, pulling in a breath. Not because I’m afraid, but because it’s a big deal to regain power over yourself and your body.
“Dance with me.” His eyes move between mine. With a few quick taps on his phone, Bruno’s “Show Me” starts playing.
One side of my mouth tugs upward at him and his smooth ways. I laugh. The way he knows me and just how to ease my anxiety.
He sets his phone on the small table and holds out his hand. I let my head sag to the side, the tension in my body falling away. I take his hand, and he tugs me to him, surrounding me with his arms. I hold onto him, and just like that, we’re swaying.
He presses his lips to my forehead, and I breathe him in.
“I need your help,” I say softly, sliding my arms up his back, but he pulls away.
“You ok?” His brow furrows a little.
I nod. “Yeah.” I tip my chin up to meet his eyes. “I want you to make love to me.”
His eyebrows shoot up, and our movement stalls. He studies me, his eyes moving between mine, searching for confirmation.
“Right now?” His question is soft.
A flipping, swirling sensation flutters low in my stomach, and I bite my lip again. “I didn’t have a specific time set, just, you know, whenever.”
He doesn’t move. “So, right now would be. . .ok?”
I huff out a laugh. “Well, if you want, or we could just—”
“Like, right now, right now?” He clarifies again.
I laugh, letting my head fall to his bare chest.
His arms release me as his hands grip my hips, his fingertips digging in. “Are you sure? Because I’ll—”
“Do you have condoms?”
He smiles. “Yes.”
I lean into him, gliding my hands over his pecs and around his neck. “I want you to kiss me, and I don’t want you to stop. I want to know what it’s like to be with you. Only you.”
His lips press against my temple, and he inhales long and slow. “Ryder, I’m only a man, and I need to be real with you. If we do this, it will be very difficult for me not to want to do it all the time. But this only goes as far as you want. Always. Ok?”
He holds my gaze, making sure I understand.
I press up to my tiptoes and run my lips over the soft skin of his neck. “Ok. I don’t know how this will be, but I want you. I want to replace all of the bad with you and me.”
He bends, his hands gripping the back of my thighs, and lifts me. I wrap my legs around him, trusting him with everything. I know with absolute certainty that if I ask him to stop, he will, and he’ll still be here, loving me. It’s that confidence that makes me sure about this and about him.
He carries me into the bedroom, the soft evening light making the room dim. He releases my legs, and I stand at the edge of the bed. His hands slip into my hair, and he kisses me softly and slowly, easing us into this.