I sit in my dark bedroom, chewing my bottom lip.

It’s late. I can hear Adam, Isaac, and Jay closing up the bar downstairs, ushering people our the door. Their laughter only highlights the misery consuming me.

How quickly things shifted from love and light and music to blood and darkness and mayhem.

Carly walked me home from Tootsie’s, her hand clasped tight around mine. She kept up a constant stream of one-sided conversation as she buoyed me along, but I couldn’t for the life of me tell you a single word she said. I was lost in my thoughts, replaying the look on Ryder’s face when he glanced up, blood dripping from his mouth, and spotted me in the crowd. I saw an irrefutable goodbye in his eyes as they locked on mine.

Get her out of here, Carly.

I fought. I tried to stay. But Carly dragged me like a woman possessed. On our way to the door, we passed several bouncers, all running full-tilt toward the roof with grim expressions. Two uniformed police officers were close on their heels.

For all I know, Ryder could be in jail. Or, if Lincoln got his way, worse.

I reach up and trace my lips with the tip of my finger. If I close my eyes, I can still feel his kiss consuming me. It was the best kiss of my life, by a long shot. The few fumbling boys I made out with in high school during games of spin-the-bottle and rounds of Seven Minutes in Heaven simply cannot compare.

It’s not just because Ryder is more experienced; it’s because he’s him.

He put his lips on mine and I felt it everywhere, like defibrillator paddles restoring rhythm during a Code Blue. I didn’t realize I was half-dead until he jumpstarted my faulty, failing heart. He kissed me and, suddenly, I’m wide awake for the first time in years. I’m living.

…and he’s leaving

That’s what the fight was about. That’s why he got so weird the other night after Lacey called him. He’s got a record deal out in Los Angeles. A few hours from now, he’ll be on a plane, headed far away from here.

Far away from me.

I feel like I’ve been woken from a coma against all odds, a medical marvel, only to be told I’ve got a few hours left to live. It’s not fair that the one man I really could’ve let myself fall for, the one man I really could’ve lo—

No.

I shut out that thought before it can fully enter my brain. Dressed in my favorite t-shirt, I slide under the covers and curl into a ball, knowing full well that no matter how long I lie here, sleep will be a long time coming tonight.

* * *

I’m not sure what wakes me.

Some small, muffled sound on the steps outside my room. Or perhaps my body is simply alerted to his presence by that magnetic current that seems to run beneath his skin, throwing charges at anyone who comes too close.

It’s still dark outside my window as I creep to my feet and peer out. There are no signs of life, but when I squint into the shadows I can just make out a lumpy, familiar shape sitting on my small landing. Heart racing, I push aside the heavy rocking chair I use as a barricade each night, slip off the security chain, and yank open the door.

My guitar case is propped against the railing, waiting for me. There’s no sign of whoever dropped it off, but I know in my heart there’s only one person in the world it could possibly be.

“Ryder?” I call in a tentative whisper, my eyes sweeping the empty parking lot. There’s no response. No sign of him at all. “Ryder!”

He’s already gone.

I don’t think. Hell, I don’t even put on shoes. I just run — past my guitar, down the stairs, across the pavement. I’m desperate to catch him. My heart is slamming against my ribs as I round the corner of the building into the alley, hoping like hell he hasn’t gotten too far. Seeing as I’m wearing nothing but a large t-shirt and skimpy boy shorts, I’m not exactly dressed for a long excursion through the streets of Nashville.

I skid to a sudden halt.

He’s sitting in the exact spot where we first met, on the steps of the back exit. There’s a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth and he’s flicking his thumb against the flint wheel of his lighter rhythmically. Each time it sparks to life, his face is illuminated briefly in the inky darkness.

“Ryder.”

He flinches at the sound of my voice, but doesn’t glance up.

“You weren’t even going to say goodbye?” My voice cracks.

“I said goodbye,” he murmurs, sparking the lighter again. “There’s a note on the last page of your journal.”

I back-burner the discussion we’re going to have about about invasion of privacy and take a few steps closer to him, wincing as my bare feet move over the rough ground. He hears my soft exhale of pain and lifts his eyes to mine.

I gasp at the sight. His face is a mess of swelling and bruises. His left cheekbone is turning black and blue. His bottom lip is split and twice its normal size. His nose looks more crooked than I remember. But it’s his eyes that scare me the most. They’re totally devoid of hope. They’re completely… haunted.

“Oh, Ryder,” I whisper, taking another step.

“You should go back inside.” His voice is flat as he stubs out the cigarette with his boot heel. “It’s late and you’re not dressed.”

“So that’s it, huh?”

He’s silent.

I feel tears starting to gloss my eyes and fight them back with every shred of self-control I possess. “This is the goodbye I get? After everything?”

“What do you want from me, Felicity?” His voice breaks on my name and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear he’s close to breaking down. “I don’t have anything left to give you.”

“Because you’re leaving,” I say softly.

He looks up sharply and I see I’m not wrong — his eyes are glossy in the darkness.

“Because I’m leaving,” he echoes in a shattered voice.

Heavy silence descends on us. The only sound is the wind as it stirs pieces of litter into small vortexes along the alley floor. I shift from foot to foot, crossing my arms over my chest.

“You look terrible,” I say bluntly.

A dark grin twists his lips, a mere shadow of his usual charm. “Thanks.”

With a sigh, I close the final few steps between us and sink down onto the step by his side, purposefully banging my shoulder hard against his — a collision designed to shake him from this stupor. He glances over at me, eyebrows raised. I think I see a flicker of amusement in the depths of his eyes.

“What was that for?”

“Trying to leave without saying goodbye.”

“I’m sorry.” He blows out a breath. “I thought it would be easier if…”

“If you just disappeared? Forgive me if I don’t share your opinion on that.”

“I thought about knocking. Waking you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

The lighter in his fingers flickers to life again. He doesn’t meet my gaze. “I worried if I saw you, if I spent the night… I might not be able to get on that plane tomorrow. I might not be able to let you go.”

I suck in a sharp breath. “Ryder…”

He turns to me and, with a gentleness I’ve never seen from him before, slowly reaches out and tugs the elastic from the end of my braid. All I can do is try to keep breathing as his fingers sink into the thick plait, unravelling it with methodical focus. When my hair is free, hanging around my body in a thick curtain, he runs his palms from the crown of my head all the way to the ends that curl at my biceps. A single, reverent caress before he pulls away, hands clenching into fists, expression going blank. As if that small touch is all he’ll allow himself.

I sense a goodbye hovering in the air between us. Looming like a specter in the dark.

No. Not yet.

Don’t leave me yet.

“You know,” I murmur. “For someone who just got everything he ever wanted, you look pretty miserable.”

“Not everything,” he murmurs back after a prolonged beat of silence.

My breath hitches in my throat. Before he can stop me, I lean in and kiss him. Carefully. With all the tenderness I can summon. It’s nothing like our first kiss. Not desperate or devouring. I press my mouth to his like I’m sharing a secret. My tongue skims his swollen bottom lip, tasting blood, then moves up to suck ever so lightly on the uninjured top one. He groans, deep in his throat.

“Felicity,” he mutters, holding himself rigid to keep from touching me. “This isn’t…”

“Shhh,” I breathe against his broken mouth. “Don’t say anything.”

I lace my hand with his, holding fast. Rising to my feet, I pull him up after me and start walking. We don’t say a word as we make our way up the stairs to my room. He pauses on the landing to retrieve my guitar before following me in. I watch his expression as he steps inside, how his eyes sweep around taking in every detail. They linger on my rocking-chair-slash-door-barricade for a long time.

“I know it’s not much…” I shrug. “But it works for me.”

He closes the door behind him. The small room suddenly feels infinitely smaller.

Swallowing hard, I backpedal toward my unmade bed. He watches me, his eyes scanning me from head to toe as though he’s memorizing the sight to recall later, when he’s far out of reach.

I don’t want to think about that, so I bury the thought away.

“I’d offer you ice or first aid, but I don’t have any.” My voice trembles. “The best I can do is Advil and water. You must be in pain.”

“I’m fine.” He’s three strides away, but it feels like three miles.

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

There’s a flicker of life in his eyes; I take that as a good sign. “There’s one thing.”

“What is it?” My heart is pounding. “I’ll do anything.”

He takes a step closer, halving the space between us instantly. “Anything?”

I nod, suddenly out of breath. I feel my nipples hardening against the fabric of my sleep shirt as a bolt of lust shoots through my system like lightning.

Yes, anything.

I will do anything for this man.

Ryder’s throat convulses as he swallows hard. He takes that final step, until we’re standing chest to chest, mere inches from my bed. One short fall away from messy sheets and tangled limbs. I lick my lips as he leans in, his stubble scraping the shell of my ear as he whispers what he wants.

“Sing for me.”

“I… I…” It’s not what I expected at all.

“You said anything,” he reminds me, pulling back so he can meet my eyes. “This is what I want.”

I swallow hard. “Any song in particular?”

“How about the last one you wrote.”

Heat floods my face when he mentions my latest song. The one I wrote the night after I found him sleeping in the bar.

“That one’s not finished.”

“Don’t care. That’s the one I want.”

“You know, if you weren’t already so beaten and bruised, I’d have to hurt you for reading my journal without permission,” I tell him, narrowing my eyes. “That’s a serious breach of privacy, Ryder.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I promise, I barely peeked.” His mouth twists and he winces at the pain it causes his sore lip. “But I couldn’t resist a look inside this mind.” His thumb brushes against my temple in a soft caress. It takes all my willpower not to lean my head into his hand.

I can’t stay mad at him about the journal. Not now. Not when it’s our last night together, maybe ever. Even a minute spent fighting would be an unforgivable waste.

“One song,” I agree.

His eyes flare in victory.

Stepping around him, I grab the guitar case by the door. The squeak of springs as he lowers his tall frame onto the bed sends my pulse into overdrive. When I turn, I find him sprawled back against my pillows with his arms behind his head and his feet dangling over the edge of the mattress.

A laugh pops from my lips.

“What?” he asks.

“You just look ridiculous on that tiny bed.” I shake my head as I walk toward him, guitar in hand. “I don’t know if there’s space for both of us.”

He shifts over a few inches, creating a small opening beside him. “Plenty,” he whispers, watching me approach.

I lower myself onto the mattress, curling my legs beneath me. My bare thigh is pressed against his hip, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing my sensitive skin every time either of us shifts even a millimeter. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip at the sensation.

“Okay, here goes…”

I adjust the strings and clear my throat lightly. I’m about to start when he says my name.

“Yeah?” I murmur, looking up.

“Do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Don’t hide your eyes from me. The only reason I know what you’re thinking half the time is because they’re so fucking expressive.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “I want to watch them while you sing.”

I suck in a sharp breath. As if this moment wasn’t already intense enough, now he wants eye contact. There’s something shockingly intimate about the idea of singing to him with our gazes locked. I won’t be able to hide from him — not my thoughts or my emotions or my fears.

“Please, Felicity.”

I nod and, before I can chicken out, begin to strum. My voice is a bit thicker than usual, but I push through as those blue-brown irises hold me captive.

“I was asleep at the wheel for so long

Didn’t know where I was going

But when the road gets tired and your heart needs rest

You dream of a home, not a hotel bed…”

Ryder watches me with such laser-sharp focus, it’s hard to keep the lyrics straight in my head. His expression is intent as he listens, but he can’t help cracking a wry smile when I sing the verse I wrote for him.

“You were asleep in a bar when I found you

Burning off a bottle of whiskey

You reached out, grabbed my heart in your fist

I dream you’re mine, not hers instead…”

All the joking light fades out of his eyes as I sing my last verse. I’m shaking from the magnitude of this moment, hardly able to find the right strings.

“We were asleep in a watercolored memory

Staring back at a long road of regret

But that future’s bright when your hand’s in mine

We’re the dream that I never thought I’d get…”

I feel myself drowning in the stark lust inside his eyes as I play the last piece of the melody. I trail off into halting silence. The air is buzzing with energy. Electric and wild. I watch the pulse pounding at the vein in his jugular and know he feels it, too.

He doesn’t move an inch as I get to my feet and slowly cross the room to put my guitar back in its case. When I turn, I feel his eyes on me — hot, heavy. Before I can blink, he’s there in front of me. His breaths are coming just as fast as mine. He brushes my hair out of my face as he leans closer.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he whispers as his mouth hits mine. I moan as my hands slide beneath his shirt, exploring the ridges of his ab muscles. When his tongue strokes mine, I feel my heart stop beating.

I have no idea what I’m doing, so I act on pure instinct. I mange to get his shirt up over his head and throw it across the room. But as I stare at his skin, bronze and smooth beneath my fingers, I find myself frozen. Ryder’s kissing my neck, but I’m at a total loss for what to do next.

“Hey.” He pulls back. There’s a fissure of concern between his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“I know you well enough by now to recognize when something’s off, Felicity.” His nose bumps mine in a reassuring stroke. “Tell me. Please.”

“You might not like it.”

“There’s nothing you could say that I wouldn’t like. I promise.”

I suck in a breath. “I’ve never done this before.”

He flinches like I’ve slapped him. “What?”

“I’ve never been with anyone.” I swallow hard. “Never… slept with anyone.”

He’s suddenly pale. His hands drop from my shoulders and he backpedals a step, creating space between our bodies. “Felicity…”

“It doesn’t change anything.” My chin jerks up. “It doesn’t matter.”

“You’re wrong about that.”

“Ryder.” My voice is almost inaudible. “I want… I want it to be you. I need it to be you.”

His jaw is clenched so tight, I worry his teeth will snap. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“No, I’m trying to seduce you.” I pause. “Not very well, apparently.”

“Cute.” He doesn’t laugh. “But I’m not going to take your virginity a few hours before my plane takes off.”

“Why not?” My lips twist in a grin. “Think of it as a kind of… going away present.”

He glares at me.

“A souvenir, to remember your time in Nashville.” I laugh hollowly.

“This isn’t funny.”

“I thought it was, actually.”

He scowls at me in silence.

“You want me to be serious? Fine.” My voice drops to a vow. “I want to be yours. I want to belong to you. Even if it’s only for tonight.”

He groans as though I’m torturing him.

I take another step. “I want to lose myself in you, to memorize every inch of your skin so I never forget a single part of you, even after you leave.”

“Felicity.” He averts his eyes, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “Stop.”

“Stop?”

His nod is infinitesimal. As though any movement at all might make his self-control slip.

“I don’t want to stop.”

He curses and backs up again, until he hits the far wall.

“Why are you walking away from me?”

“Because if you come any fucking closer, I won’t be able to control myself.” He’s panting hard. “Do you know how much I want you? How many nights I’ve dreamed about everything I’d do to you if you were standing here in front of me like you are right now? God, do you have any idea how much it’s killing me that I can’t touch you?”

“You can touch me.”

“Felicity…” His voice breaks. “I’m leaving in a few hours.”

“I know that,” I whisper.

“This… you and me… it’ll just make it worse, when I go. One night with you isn’t enough.”

“It’s not enough,” I agree, taking the last few steps. I stop just out of his reach. “It’ll never be enough. But it’s all we have.”

My eyes are steady on his as I reach down with trembling fingers, grab the hem of my shirt, and pull it up over my head. My hair brushes against my bare breasts as I lean down to discard my boy shorts. I hear a hiss of air from Ryder’s mouth as he takes in the sight of me standing there before him, stripped bare. He reaches out, longing etched on his face as his hand slides against my skin, cupping my breast beneath the curtain of my hair. I gasp at the feeling of his callused palm against my skin, arching into his touch. Craving more of that ache that’s spreading through me like a drug.

More.

More.

More.

“Ryder,” I breathe.

His eyes drag up to mine, molten with heat.

“We have this one night,” I tell him, reaching out and sliding my fingers into the buckle of his belt. My hands no longer tremble as I tug the leather from its loops. “We better make it count.”

His pants hit the floor the same second his mouth hits mine.