Page 36 of Something Tangled Something True (Rosa Ranch #1)
NEW REALITY
When Ryder enters the kitchen, his hair falling in damp waves over his forehead, I’m still standing with the injector pen in my hands.
“Time for your next shot?” he asks, opening the fridge and grabbing a carton of orange juice for himself and, as usual, the chocolate almond milk for me.
“Yeah,” I say, a little wary.
He must hear the apprehension in my voice because he sets the cartons down and turns to face me, giving me his full attention.
He’s leaning against the counter, his hands gripping the smooth granite, waiting for me to explain what’s going on.
“I know I should just be glad I have medication at all. And I am ,” I emphasize.
“But it just dawned on me that this ,” I say, swinging the injector pen through the air.
“This is my new normal. I’ll probably never have the luxury of not jabbing myself with this thing from now until forever, and it just—” I drop my head into my hands. “It sucks,” I whisper.
Ryder’s warm arms envelop me, squeezing me tightly to his chest. He buries his face in my curls at the crook of my neck, and I swear I feel the feather-light touch of his lips graze over my bounding pulse point.
“I need you to keep being the strong, brave, determined woman I know you are, darlin’, because you need this medication to keep doing what you love. Okay?” he asks, and I give him a non-committal nod, my head now tucked under his chin.
He pulls away, his warmth immediately following him, but his hands remain on me as he slides them down my waist to my hips. He hoists me up onto the counter in one smooth movement.
“Now, tell me which thigh we’re doin’ this in,” he says.
His eyes meet my wide ones, and his dark brows climb his ruggedly handsome face. “Come on, Lols. I’ve got breakfast to make, so you’ve gotta hurry, darlin’.”
I shake myself out of the daze as I roll my denim shorts up on my right thigh. I can’t get the hem much higher, as my thighs start to eat the shorts the higher they climb.
Ryder grabs the box I keep my medication in, and he pulls out an alcohol prep pad, setting it on the counter before washing his hands.
When he returns, he tears the packet open, working the alcohol in a small circle that widens with each stroke.
My skin is littered with goosebumps by the time he’s finished.
He takes the pen from the counter beside me and peers up to meet my eyes. I nod, reassuring him it’s okay.
He uncaps the pen and says, “Almost done, darlin’,” before he plunges it into my skin, pressing down and counting backward from ten to allow all of the medication to disperse.
When he's done, I reach out for him, my fingers biting into his forearm. “Ry,” I say, the words barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”
Those cerulean eyes peer into mine. He takes my expression in, pressing his forehead against mine. “Thank you , Lols.”
“For what?”
“For—” he drags in a breath, clenching his eyes shut for a beat before returning them to me, “For last night. For being there. For… everything, Lols. Allowing me to just be in your orbit. And, more than anything, letting me help you with this,” he finishes, pulling back and tossing the used injector pen into the small sharps container on the cabinet beside me.
His words send a warmth like molten honey pooling in my veins, and it takes every ounce of my resolve not to cup his cheeks and press my lips to his.
Luckily, he doesn't wait for a response from me, gripping my hips and helping me off the counter.
We get everything cleaned up before he takes me over to the couch to rest while he makes breakfast.
It doesn’t escape me that in less than one month, he’s able to determine my every need and actively wants to make sure they’re met.
Russ had never done that over the length of our entire pitiful relationship, and I think it might be about time I stop comparing these two incredibly different men.
Russ and I were never meant to be, and I think, possibly without knowing it, Ryder is healing all the cracked pieces Russ tried so hard to turn to ash around me.