Page 105 of No Rhyme or Roughing
She buried her face in my chest, her arms wrapping tightly around my waist. “I love you so much it physically hurts.”
“I—”
“Get away from my office door,” Mr. Mac called through the door. “We get it—you love each other. Just keep it away from the locker room, please. Those showers are for getting clean, for god’s sake.”
I laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of Sydney’s head as her skin flushed from the tops of her ears down to her neck.
Turning her away from the wall, I draped an arm around her shoulders. “I really need to get you somewhere no one can hear you,” I murmured, my lips brushing her ear.
“That doesn’t sound serial killer-y at all,” she teased.
“I just really need to taste you.”
“Oh, well…”
“I can still hear you!” Mr. Mac’s voice thundered, followed by the slam of his door.
We sprinted down the hallway to the elevators, laughing, her fingers never letting go of mine.
We’d saved the team. We’d broken each other.
Now, we could figure out how to heal—together.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
SYDNEY
I still couldn’t believe we’d pulled it off. Sitting on my bed, I replayed the first video we’d made. Ryder had looked so unsure of himself at first, but as the dance went on, he grew into it. Brave in a way I wasn’t sure he even realized. Skating out in front of his entire team for a social media post had taken a kind of strength he didn’t give himself credit for.
And it worked.
“You’ve got that smile again,” Ryder said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to my lips. When he pulled away too quickly, I groaned in protest, and he grinned. “Just wanted a taste. What are you watching?” He flopped down beside me.
I hit play without answering.
“Oh, no. Not this,” he groaned, throwing himself back against the pillows and covering his eyes. “Of the three, that’s the worst one.”
“It’s my favorite,” I said, smiling. It was a glimpse of the real Ryder Cassidy—solemn, occasionally grumpy, but always willing to do whatever it took for his team and his brothers on the bench beside him.
He slid an arm around my waist, and I set my phone down, leaning back against him. “Are you scared, Ry?”
“Of us?” His minty breath brushed my cheek. “No. I think I used to be—scared of you, that is. I didn’t want to get hurt again. That sucked. But then, I realized I loved you more than I feared you.”
My body’s first instinct at the wordlovewas still to tense, to retreat. It was something I’d have to work on, something that would take time.
“I actually meant scared because now you have to dance at practically every home game,” I teased. “Are you worried that’s all the fans want from you?”
He laughed, the sound rumbling through me. “No. I guess I’ll just have to give the fans what they want.”
I turned to face him, tucking my legs beneath me. “You like it, don’t you? Dancing.”
He shrugged, and I let it go. He’d figure it out in his own time.
In a few weeks, I’d move into my sister’s spare room in San Jose until I found my own place. Just an hour from Ryder—not far in California driving. We could make this work. For the first time, I wanted to.
I’d walked away from every man I’d ever been with, never letting myself hurt or feel disappointed. But now,I’d opened myself to the possibility of pain, to the risk of being vulnerable.
Because I wanted him.
