“You’ve never been good at lying, at self-control, or looking at me and not wanting me,” I tell him. Honesty is raw in my words. The heat of his breath fans over me, making me needier than I’ve ever felt. There’s no denying that we’ve always been like magnets. We need each other to be whole. Two halves of the same soul, and even though our hearts have been broken, those pieces always fit together perfectly. My sadness and pain from never being good enough for my mother, and Ryder’s pain from being judged unfairly all his life.

“Piper,” he growls my name, reaching for my long blond hair, tugging the ponytail back, exposing my neck to him. “You’re a fucking temptation.” He grits out through clenched teeth, his lips feathering over the sensitive skin that’s now dotted with goosebumps from his warm breath.

I can’t help smiling at his confession. “Wasn’t I always?”

“Since the moment I laid my eyes on you, Butterfly,” he murmurs before his lips find mine. It’s not rough, nowhere near what I thought it would be. No. This is Ryder being gentle, and the kiss itself sears me.

He pulls me closer. His tongue darts out, licking at my lips, causing me to whimper. My hips undulate as I press myself closer to him, needing him nearer, so impossibly close that it’s like he’s a part of me. And he is. Always has been.

His other hand grips my hip, fingers digging into the flesh, holding me still. When he pulls away, his gaze meets mine, burning through me.

“We can’t do this right now,” he tells me earnestly.

“Why?”

“I… We need time.”

Sighing, I go to move off him, but he holds me steady. “If you don’t want me then—”

“It’s not that, Piper.” Frustration is evident in his voice, thick and heavy with emotion. “I’ve just shown you what I did, who I am.”

“I know.” I reach up, placing my hands on either side of his face. The stubble tickling my palms, the heat of him warming me, keeping me lit up like a fire raging through the forest. “But you’ve also given me so much more,” I tell him. “You’ve given me your fear, your pain, your guilt.”

“I never wanted you to have those things. I’ve just wanted love and happiness for you.” He tries to look away, but I hold him close, keeping his eyes on mine. I want him to see my love, the love I’ve held for him all my life. Since the moment I met Ryder I knew, and I’ve always known that no matter what tries to come between us, we’ll weather the storm.

“I have love and more happiness than you can imagine, and I have it because I have you here.” He stares at me for a moment as if he can’t fathom what I’m saying. It’s as if each word doesn’t make sense to him.

His sigh is low. His chest rises and falls. It’s then that I lean in, burying my face in his neck, inhaling the scent of Ryder. Masculine with a hint of mint and Coke. Suddenly, he tugs me, lifting me against him, and placing me on the mattress.

“Stay.”

I watch as he takes his shoes off. The movements are jerky, and I wonder if it hurts. My eyes are glued to him and the moment he finally pushes the pants he’s wearing down, I’m met once more with the fact that Ryder is missing a leg. “I didn’t want you to ever see this,” he tells me with his back to me. “To see me broken.” There’s so much sadness in his tone that makes my heart hurt, it physically aches in my chest.

“We’re all somewhat broken, Ryder. Every person has a part of themselves missing. Just because yours is physical doesn’t mean you’re different from someone who’s suffered or is suffering mentally or emotionally.”

He turns to me then. “When did you grow up, baby girl?”

“When you weren’t here.” I murmur, but I don’t say it to hurt him, or to make him feel guilty for going away. I need him to know I’m no longer the little girl he walked out on four years ago.

Ryder settles onto the side of the bed. Then I watch in wonderment as he places his prosthetic leg against the nightstand. It hits me all at once, he’s lived with this for two years. All those months he was alone, hurting, coming to terms with the accident and what he did.

“I understand why you were angry.”

He doesn’t turn to me when I talk, but I know he can feel every word. We’ve always had a powerful connection. I didn’t realize it until he left, and I felt like a part of me was missing.

“I’m not saying it’s the same thing, but after you went to the city, it felt like I had a part of me missing. I couldn’t function normally, for a long while. And it took months before I found my love of reading, of dancing again. I even started up with ballet again just to please my mother,” I confess in a raspy tone that drips with sadness and pain.

He swings his legs onto the bed and pulls me into his arms without responding. The part of him no longer there doesn’t scare me. It doesn’t disgust me. It just makes me want to hold him even closer.

Our bodies press closely together. I can feel his erection against me, but I don’t say anything about it because this moment isn’t about that. It isn’t about anything other than Ryder healing, about him letting go of years of pain and regret, of guilt and burden. And I allow him to hold me.

He nestles his head into my hair that’s splayed on his pillow. Silence hangs around us, heavy and threatening. It feels as if there’s a storm brewing in the distance—the clouds dark and menacing—and I have a feeling something is about to break free.

And then I feel it.

I feel him.

Ryder is crying.

And all I can do is hold him.