Page 313 of Face Off

Ryan looks back through the open castle doors. The guys remain inside the entrance, far enough away that they cannot hear us clearly. Cade has both hands in his pockets. Briggs stands beside him with his arms folded. Easton watches Ryan while Rider watches me.

Ryan brings his attention back to my face.

“When I saw you in the bar Wednesday night, I told myself I could handle it. Then you sat one empty stool away like you were giving me the distance I asked for, and I fucking hated it.”

A broken laugh escapes me through my tears.

“I dragged your stool across the floor because you were too far away,” he continues. “I said it was loud in there. That was bullshit. I wanted you closer, and the second your knee touched mine, I was done.”

“Done with what?”

“Pretending I came here for closure.”

My heart strikes painfully against my ribs.

“There was a moment on day two when I watched you. You weren’t doing anything special. You were only being you, and I was so fucking happy.” His expression breaks around the memory. “That was when I had my answer. Before the weekend was half over, you gave me the thing I came here to find.”

“What answer?”

“We would’ve been magnificent.”

Ryan says it with absolute certainty, a voice thick with pain and tears he is fighting letting fall.

“If your family, your fear, and every asshole with an opinion had never been standing between us, we would’ve been a fucking dream. You and me without the hiding would’ve been everything I thought it could be.” His thumb presses gently beneath my chin. “Knowing that didn’t give me closure. It made leaving you impossible all over again.”

Headlights move between the trees.

The Uber turns onto the drive and approaches the castle while my six minutes disappear beneath its tires. Ryan watches it stop at the foot of the steps, then releases my face and takes both of my hands.

The driver climbs out and opens the trunk.

Ryan’s luggage waits several feet behind him. He releases me long enough to retrieve it, rolling the suitcase down the steps while I follow. The driver reaches for the duffel, but Ryan lifts it first and places both bags inside himself. He closes the trunk carefully, then taps the roof.

“Give me a minute, my man.”

The driver nods and returns to the front seat. The engine remains running while Ryan comes back to me.

He stops close enough that the toes of his Adidas nearly touch my heels. His hands close around mine again, but the control that carried him through the ballroom is gone. Tears brighten his eyes beneath the portico lights. He blinks hard and looks away for half a second as though turning his head might force the emotion back where he keeps everything that can be used against him.

It doesn’t.

When Ryan looks at me again, one tear slips down his cheek. “I don’t want closure, Charm.”

My fingers tighten around his.

“I want that version of us.” His voice fractures before he forces it steady. “I want the life we could’ve had, and I refuse to take anything less than it. I love you. I am so fucking in love with you that fifteen months of hating you couldn’t touch it. I tried. I filled every room with anger, hockey, women, noise, and every distraction I could find. Nothing stopped me from loving you.”

He releases one of my hands and hooks his fingers into the collar of his Inferno shirt. Ryan pulls the fabric down and aside, revealing the ink over the left side of his chest.

Encanto.

The tattoo I found beneath my hand while he slept appears between us again.

He doesn’t know I have already seen it. He watches my face as though this is the first time he has allowed me near the secret, and I give him the moment he deserves instead of stealing it by explaining.

“I got this before I moved to Milwaukee,” he says. “Before surgery, the Milwaukee apartment, and every day I pretended I was building something you couldn’t touch. You were already part of me. You have been every fucking day since, and you will be for the rest of my life whether you come back or not.”

His hand shakes when he releases his shirt.