Page 40 of Straight to You

RYDER

T he last few days were strange.

Sitting here, safe, warm, with clean clothes on my back and Logan beside me, doesn’t feel real. It feels like I’ll blink and wake up back in that plywood room. Or worse, I’ll open my eyes and realize I’m still there, tied up, waiting for Kyle to decide what comes next.

After they arrested him, they brought me straight to the hospital.

The cops had questions. The doctors had concerns.

A psychiatrist stopped by for a session, though I barely remember what I said to him.

I think I stumbled over the words, trying to figure out how I’m supposed to explain what happened.

Physically, I’m fine. I only needed seven stitches total, four on my forearm and three on my side from the knife. The rest of the wounds on me are superficial. They said I have bruised ribs, and I was dehydrated and exhausted.

It’s the rest of me that’s not fine.

Logan knows it, too.

I don’t think either of us is okay, not really .

The whole time we were in the hospital, he refused to leave.

Not even when the doctors wanted to keep me overnight.

I told him he could go home to sleep in a real bed, and take a goddamn break because he had found me, and saved me, and brought me home.

Now he needed to rest because he was recovering, too.

Logan looked at me in the hospital room like I’d said something insane and said, “Not happening, baby. I just got you back, I’m not going anywhere.”

My mom made the drive, and she was at the hospital, worried sick. She fussed over me nonstop, which is understandable, but all I wanted to do was sleep.

Now, we’re finally home—just the two of us. My mom’s staying at my house while we’re back at Logan’s. She wants to hover and take care of me, I can tell, but she understands we need space and time to decompress with each other after what happened.

Even though everyone saw Kyle get dragged out of that warehouse in handcuffs, and logically I know he’s behind bars, it still doesn’t feel real. It still feels like Kyle is going to turn up at the door or break in again.

Santos assured us we wouldn’t have anything to worry about, but I still hear Kyle’s voice in my head, so fucking smug telling me I need him when I don’t. I never did. Shutting my eyes, I press my knuckles to my temples, as if I can physically force him out of my mind.

Logan must notice because he shifts closer, stroking my hair back from my forehead, lips pressing gently to my skin.

All I want to do is break and fall into him, so I do.

I curl into him, pressing my face into his neck, inhaling his scent deeply.

He’s the only thing capable of grounding me.

His arms tighten around me instantly, and his fingers trail along my back.

For a moment, it’s just us, breathing and holding each other.

Then, before I can stop myself, the words spill out.

“I keep thinking,” my voice is hoarse as I speak. “What if I didn’t get out?”

Logan stills beneath me.

“I mean, what if you hadn’t found me in time? Been so persistent? Would the cops have even done anything?”

“Stop, baby,” Logan cuts in. “I don’t want to do ‘what ifs’ because I found you and you’re here. You’re safe now, and that’s the only thing that matters.”

I blink rapidly, trying to shove down the emotions threatening to choke me whole. I let out a shuddering breath, sagging into him completely, letting him take my weight, take the fear, take everything because I know he will. I know he’ll carry it for me if I let him.

So I do. Everything pours out of me, and I cry into his neck, “You could have died.”

“But I didn’t, and now we’re both okay. We’re both right here, and I’ll never go anywhere without you again, baby. I promise. I’ll quit my job if they tell me to come in again. Nothing is as important as you.”

Logan moves, pulling me into his lap, looking down into his beautiful blue eyes. His hands splay wide against my back, holding me together as I bury my face into his shoulder, breathing him in as tears start to streak down my cheek.

“I’m right here,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against the side of my head. “You’re safe. You’re home. He’s never getting near you again, Ry. Not ever.”

A few moments stretch between us before I pull back just enough to look at him.

The last few days have been overwhelming, but now that we’re finally home, I can say what’s been stuck in my head. There was one loud thought that plagued my mind when we were apart—the thing I knew I couldn’t leave unsaid if I ever got the chance.

“I love you, Logan,” I proclaim, voice thick with emotion, as I pull back to look him in the eyes. “I’m so in love with you. You have always been my person, and now you’re my everything. I love you so much.”

I swear I see his breath hitch at my admission before a slow smile creeps across his face. He leans in, resting his forehead against mine.

“I love you, too, Ry,” he says with so much awe in his voice. “You’re it for me. Always have been, always will be. I’d do anything for you, baby. Anything. I love you so much.”

I don’t even hesitate. I pull him into me, kissing him like I’ll never get enough because I won’t.

He cups my face when we pull back. “I loved being your friend and was happy to be around you. Being near you always felt right. But then a few weeks ago, something flipped, and I couldn’t stop falling for you even if I tried.”

I smile, my heart so full it hurts.

“Honestly, I thought I was losing my mind after the whole…shower incident,” I admit with a sheepish laugh.

“I couldn’t even tell you why I walked in, or why I stayed so long.

I’m pretty sure I spun out for a full twenty-four hours trying to figure out what the hell that meant for us.

I just knew I really liked what I saw, and I thought about joining you in there. ”

“That makes two of us,” he laughs. “I’ve always loved you,” he whispers. “But it’s different now. I want you. I need you. I choose you. You’re it for me.”

My chest tightens at the weight of those words.

They’re so simple, but they hold so much weight.

I want to bottle up this moment and savor it for a lifetime.

His fingers slide into my hair, his lips brushing over mine so gently it barely counts as a kiss, but it feels like everything.

I didn’t think I could love him more than I already do, but somehow, he keeps proving me wrong.

“Me too,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “You’re my world.”

And when he kisses me again—deeper this time—I know we’re safe.

We’re home.

And this time, nothing’s tearing us apart.