Page 150 of The Path to Loving Him
And when he says things like that, it makes me want him all over again. It makes me wish he could get over this thing in his head where he doesn’t think he deserves or could handle a relationship.
“Thank you, Ryland.”
“And if you want to sit alone at the game, I can hang out on the concourse. I know things are weird between us, and I don’t want to encroach on your space. I just ask that I can at least see his first at bat, then I can leave if you want.”
“Is that what you want?” I ask him. “To leave me alone?”
“Do you want the truth?”
“I do,” I say.
He shifts on his feet and looks me in the eyes, sincerity pouring from him. “The answer is no. I don’t want to leave you alone. I want to be there for you. I want to hold your hand. I want to capture the moment of you watching your brother play his first big league game so he can watch it over and over and see how much pride you have for him. I want to make the day special for you because you deserve it. But I also want you to be comfortable, so if that means I step aside, I act as the driver, and that’s it, then I’ll do that too. I just want you to be happy, taken care of . . . protected.”
A lump the size of a golf ball forms in my throat because how can he say such beautiful, wonderful things without messing with my standpoint? How can he expect me not to want him, to run into his arms and beg him to second-guess his stance on relationships?On me?
And this is exactly why I was trying to keep my distance. This reason precisely because even though I’ve tried tirelessly to keep my heart out of this, I’ve been fighting a losing battle.
He’s too wonderful.
Too thoughtful.
Too much of everything I think I’ve ever wanted, everything I didn’t know I wanted. And I hate that. I hate that with one apology, I can let go of all my anger. That I can look him in the eyes and know that deep down we have a connection unlike anyone I’ve met before. And that despite everything he does, everything he puts me through, the mental game ofdoes he want me or does he want me to push away, I still find myself gravitating toward him.
Wanting him.
Because he’s a damaged soul, just like me.
I swallow past the lump and softly say, “I want you there, next to me.”
“You sure?” he asks.
“Positive,” I answer, looking him in the eyes.
“Consider it done.” He offers me a curt nod, then pushes off the counter. “See you in the morning, Gabby.”
“Yeah, see you in the morning.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
RYLAND
“You look like hell for someone about to go watch one of his players play their first ever big-league game,” Aubree says as she comes up to me in Mac’s bedroom, where I’m packing Mac an overnight bag.
“I feel like hell,” I say as I throw in a few extra pairs of underwear for Mac because you never fucking know.
“Why?” Aubree asks as she takes a seat on Mac’s bed. I glance out the door to see if Mac’s around. “She’s with Wyatt at the swing.”
Knowing she’s not in hearing distance, I lean against the dresser, taking a seat on the floor, and let my body relax for one second. “I need to talk to you, Aubree, but I don’t need the snarky side of you. Okay? It’s serious, and I’m not in the mood to deal with your annoying sister tendencies.”
“What a way to open a conversation,” she says. “But I get it. I promise I won’t be snarky.”
“Okay, because this is something I would have talked to Cassidy about, and she’s not here . . .”
I see the seriousness cross her face, Aubree knowing exactly what I’m talking about. “I can do that for you. What’s going on?”
I drag my hands over my face. “I like her. I like Gabby. I tried to keep my distance. I tried to push her away. I tried to forget about this almost nauseous feeling I get when I see her talk to other men, but I can’t fucking shake it. It just keeps growing and growing, and now it’s all I can think about.”
“She’s a great person, Ryland. I’m surprised you lasted this long.”
