Page 92 of The Ripple Effect

I send my arms wide. “Well, I’m not letting you do it alone. These people are professional interrogators. They’ll lure you into a trap and add you to their taxidermy collection. You need a co-instructor to throw a question to if you get stuck.”

“No, I don’t. For the last time, Stellar, get out of here. You’re supposed to be saving your reputation, not ruining it.” He crosses his arms over his Carhartts, all stern and forbidding.

He forgets I’m not scared of him.

“You look cute. And I’m perfectly capable of keeping myself safe. I’ve been doing it my whole life.”

“Stellar!” He throws up his arms. “You areterribleat protecting yourself.”

“I amnot.”

“Yes, you are! At the hospital, you could’ve gone to your boss privately, gotten a good deal for yourself, and let yourfriend suffer. Instead, you fought for transparency, no matter what it cost you.

“And at the Love Boat, instead of sucking up to an influential guest, you knocked yourself out making Brent do his share. You launched yourself into the middle of a lake with no paddle, atnight, to rescue a dog bigger than you are!”

He plunges his hands into his hair, ruining the shining ringlets. “I mean, I love Babe! I’m glad she’s okay! But you cannot pretend a person who wanted toprotect herselfwould’ve done that. Your whole profession is about caring for people’s hurts, but you’ve trained yourself to never let anyone see when you feel pain.” His eyes skip to the long bandage on my arm, then back up, his neck flushing with regret.

Chills grip my skin. I thought I was good at keeping myself safe. After all, I’ve been the only one doing that job since I was twelve, with the exception of Liz.

And now, with the exception of Lyle.

He takes my face in his hand, thumb stroking my cheek, fingers cupping my square Byrd jaw with a tenderness that makes me want to cry. “You’re the most selfless, fair, moral person I know. You have more integrity and fire and… andfightthan most people can even dream of. And you have a chance to reclaim the career you love,” he says, his voice low. “Let me take care of the Love Boat. Protect yourself, for once, and let me make up for the time I didn’t protect you. I have to, Stellar. If you come on the podcast, Renee will ask about Grey Tusk General and your gig work. She’ll ask how you and Sloane are connected. She’ll corner both of us with the fake engagement. It’ll be a goddamn disaster.”

He’s flushed, mouth turned down, swearing. I could do what he’s asking. He’ll take the heat for both of us, and I can hide in his shadow.

He’d give me everything, if I let him.

I look up into his pleading face, his green eyes tired and sad. I can’t mess with his makeup, but I can grab Jasvinder’s kitchen stool and step up to his level. I can smooth his curls the way I saw the stylist do it, then put my thumbs in front of his ears, stretch my fingers down his neck, and feel his pulse leap under my palm. There’s a gap in his left eyebrow, and I suspect the makeup artist has trimmed there so the camera can more easily see his stitches.

I think of him that night, keeping himself away from the people he loved to keep them safe. Isolating himself while I was surrounded by love and care.

We’re not so different, he and I. We’re both bad at protecting ourselves. But we can try to protect each other. It’s harder to be soft than strong, but for Lyle, I want to be both.

“The thing about a disaster, Lyle,” I say softly, “is you get to choose who you want to be. And I don’t want to be the person you owe something to. I want to be the person who takes care of you. Because I love you, Lyle. I’m in love with you.”

Lyle’s hoarse, joyful bark of laughter unknots my stomach. His eyes glitter like a forest at dawn, golden and green, a sheen of wetness catching the light like dewdrops gathering at the tips of leaves. “Stellar,” he starts, his voice pitched way down low, like a natural disaster.

“I’m not finished,” I say. “I’m coming on the damn podcast, and if Renee asks whether our engagement was fake, I’ll tell her Fisher’s a crack in our collective asshole.” He laughs some more, and I can’t get enough of the sound and feel of it. “And I’ll tell her that sometimes in whitewater, people need to fall in to understand the lesson they’re here to learn. I had to make a lot of mistakes before I figured out I wouldn’t have asked just anyone to marry me, no matter what was at stake. I proposed toyoubecause I couldn’t stop thinking about you for a whole year. I asked you to marry me because you’re the best, kindest, most selfless person I know. And I want to tell the world how proud I am of everything we did at the Love Boat. We helped people and fought injustice and fell in love. The program worked for us, and I was actively tryingnotto fall for you. It’sthatgood.”

I already have his face in my hands. It’s only natural to touch my lips to his mouth so I can watch the corners turn up. “Peck,” I whisper, and watch the sun come out in his smile.

“I’ve waited a long time to sayI love you, Stellar. So fucking long.” He drapes my arms around his neck, reaches for my thighs, and lifts me into his arms. He kisses me like he’s gulping air after a long, scary swim, like he wants to breathe me in again and again. Our mouths were meant to come together this way, meant to give and take everything, always, forever.

I forget about his makeup and my stitches; there’s only the two of us, bodies and souls, need and love, ripples pushing us together the way we were always meant to be.

“Ahem.”

By this point, I should know we’re destined never to kiss uninterrupted.

Lyle sets me back onto the stool, his hands coming to my waist. Together, we turn to face the music.

Standing in the doorway to the cookhouse’s back room, a protective cape over her silk blouse, is Renee Garner.

“This must be Dr. Stellar Byrd,” she says, her smile big, her Texas accent bigger. “I hope you changed your mind about coming on the podcast. I’d sure love to have you.”

Lyle grips my hips convulsively, but I drop another peck on his cheek. “I’d be honored, Renee. I can’t wait to tell you about Lyle and the Love Boat.”

“Let’s get you in makeup, then. No time to waste.”

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