Chapter 59 Apparently, I’m not Dead
Apparently, I'm not Dead
Tessa
My eyes flew open, and there Ryder was, standing over me like he'd been carved from the storm itself.
Rain slicked his hair to his forehead and streamed down his face. His white button-down shirt was utterly soaked, clinging to his chest and abs in a way that had me convinced I was dreaming.
I blinked long and hard, trying to clear my vision. And by the time I opened my eyes, he was crouched beside me, taking my hand in his. "Talk to me." He gave my hand a tender squeeze. "You okay?"
I groaned. "Actually, I'm pretty sure I'm dead."
His hand tightened around mine. "What?"
"Yeah, because you can't really be here."
He leaned over me, blocking the worst of the downpour from hitting my face. With a wry smile, he said, "And you can't be dead."
"Why not?"
His voice was soothing in the rain. "Because I wouldn't let you be."
My throat tightened, and I fought a sudden urge to cry – not because of the crash or the storm, but because I was stupidly happy to see him.
He shifted closer to shield more of me from the weather. "How bad is it? Can you sit up?"
I almost laughed. "I could…except…" In truth, I didn't want to say.
His brow furrowed in concern. "Except what?"
"Actually…you're kind of in my way." But when he started to move back, I reached up and grabbed his rain-soaked shirt while blurting out, "But that wasn't a complaint."
He glanced down at my hand and smiled. "You're awful strong for an injured person." But then his smile faded. "Seriously, are you hurt?"
I gave a shaky laugh. "Just my dignity."
And when he smiled again, it was like the whole storm faded into the background. All I saw was him, gazing down at me with something that looked a lot like love.
But I knew it couldn't be. Whatever this was, it was too new and fragile. And besides, we hadn't talked for over a week.
I gave a hard swallow. "Hang on. I'll get up."
"No. You hang on. I'll help you up." And then, before I could object, he gently guided me to my feet. His arms were strong. His hands were careful. And the look on his face made me feel surprisingly warm in spite of the cold.
But then I shivered, long and hard, as my body reminded me that I was soaked and standing like an idiot in the storm.
But at least I wasn't alone.
Ryder asked, "Can you walk?"
I tried to laugh. "What if I couldn't?"
"Then I'd carry you."
I made a sound of protest. "You wouldn't."
"Watch me."
I knew what he meant, but my eyes were taking the literal approach, soaking up the sight of him like he might disappear if I blinked.
I didn't want to lose him – not now, or ever.
The realization startled me. But I pushed it aside as I took a tentative step and discovered that I was mostly unscathed. The only thing truly wounded was my pride.
Ryder's hand remained on my elbow, steadying me as another gust of wind tried to shove me sideways. I looked up to meet his gaze, blinking water from my lashes. "Where'd you come from, anyway?"
He lifted his chin as rain slid off his jaw. "Up there."
I looked where he indicated and saw the hotel balcony across the street – the same one where I'd spotted him during our late-night walk. Thunder rumbled overhead, and I sucked in a breath. "You came from all the way up there? But how'd you get here so fast?"
"I ran."
I blinked hard as rain stung my eyes. "Seriously? That's a long way."
"So I ran fast."
I tried to joke through chattering teeth. "You mean on the elevator?"
"No. On the stairs." He flicked his head toward the hotel as another crack of thunder split the sky. "Now c'mon. Let's get you inside."
I glanced past him at Maisie's bike, still lying on its side as water pooled around the wheels. "I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because I've got Maisie's bike."
He stared as rain streamed down his face. "So I'll come back for it."
"But I can't leave it unattended," I protested. "Like…what if someone takes it?"
"How about this? I'll take it." And then, before I could object, he left my side and splashed through the driving rain to retrieve Maisie's bike.
By the time he wheeled it back to me, I was nearly sick with worry. "Is it okay? I mean…it's not damaged, is it?"
He gave me an odd look. "That's your concern?"
"Yeah…well, like I said, it's not mine." And then, I whirled to look at the flower bed that had cushioned my fall. "Oh, my God. And I squashed some of those flowers."
He leaned in, lowering his voice like the storm might overhear. "The bike's fine. The flowers are fine. But you're shaking."
He was right. I was. But I couldn't stop staring at the flowers. Someone had probably worked really hard to plant them, and a few of them were definitely squashed. Absently, I murmured, "Maybe I should try to straighten them out or something."
When I looked back to Ryder, he was staring like I'd just suggested building a sandcastle in a hurricane. "You're shaking, and you want to fix the flowers?" His jaw clenched. "That's crazy. You know that, right?"
I squinted through the rain. "Are you mad at me?"
He didn't hesitate. "You bet I am."