It’s not long before my solitude is interrupted. I’m so attuned to his presence, I sense him there at my back before he says a word.
“Hey.”
My eyes close at the sound of his voice. It’s like a magnet, drawing me in. Has been ever since the first time I heard it rasping over The Nightingale’s sound system.
“Hey,” I whisper without turning to look at him.
I hear his footsteps crossing the terrace toward me. Steady as his heartbeat used to be, the nights I’d rest my head on his chest in our bed. His arms hit the railing beside mine as he bumps into me with more force than strictly necessary. A jarring collision, meant to shake me from the dark place inside my mind where I’m trapped. Memories stir, of the time I once pulled a similar move on him.
“What was that for?” I ask, voice soft.
“For keeping your eyes from mine all night. I miss them.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, I glance up and meet his gaze. It’s full of so much sorrow, so much love, I can hardly stand to look.
“There they are,” he murmurs.
I blink and tears spill down my cheeks. Before I can wipe them, Ryder leans down and kisses them away. His mouth starts to pull back, but I don’t let him. I launch myself up onto the balls of my feet, throw my arms around his neck, and crush my mouth to his. I taste the salt of my own tears on his lips as he kisses me back, his tongue tangling with mine, a low sound of lust moving in his throat.
I let myself fall into him and pray, pray, pray he doesn’t drown us both.