Page 27 of Pucked Into Position

Tucker pulls up along the curb outside the apartment building and kills the engine. We all climb out of the car, and I stay right beside Ryan to make sure he doesn’t stumble.

We all walk into the lobby, stopping just outside of the elevator. Tucker turns to both of us, looking at Ryan first. A silent, knowing look passes between them, and I’m reminded of the way they used to have silent conversations when I was a kid.

Tucker’s eyes drift to me. “I’m going to head to my hotel for the night,” he says, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You two need some rest, but I’ll see you for breakfast, alright?”

My eyes widen as I realize he isn’t abandoning us, he’s giving us his blessing without saying it directly. I squeeze Ryan’s hand then rush forward, throwing my arms around Tucker’s neck. His strong arms wrap around me and lift me up. I press my cheek against his.

“Thank you, big brother,” I whisper around the lump forming in my throat.

“Take care of him, little sis. I’ll see you in the morning.” He gives me a squeeze before setting me down and walking back out to his truck.

I watch him get in and merge back into traffic, my heart sore but humming with joy. Ryan’s fingers lace between mine and he leads me into the elevator.

“Come on, baby girl. I need to lie down.”

The ride up is quick and the moment Ryan locks the front door, I go straight into caregiver mode. “Go sit on the bed. I’ll grab you some water and Tylenol. Do you need an ice pack?”

I start leading him toward the bedroom, but before I’ve barely made it a few steps my feet leave the floor. “Ryan! You’re supposed to be resting. No sudden movements, no bright lights, and no—”

“Lana.” The single word in his deep baritone stops me in my tracks. I huff and look at him. His voice is clear, devoid of the sluggish tone he’d been exhibiting earlier.

The exhaustion is still written across his face, and despite the stubborn set of his jaw, I can tell the trip home has taken what little energy he had left.

“Bed,” I order, pointing toward the bedroom. “Doctor’s orders.”

Ryan lets out a low, breathless laugh. “Yes, ma’am.”

I help him get settled, bring him some water, and crawl into bed beside him. Within minutes, his breathing evens out and he falls asleep with one arm wrapped securely around my waist.

***

A few hours later, I wake to Ryan shifting beside me.

I blink into the darkened bedroom and turn toward him. “How do you feel?”

“Better.” His voice is quiet but clear.

I study him suspiciously. “Any dizziness? Headache? Nausea?”

“Just tired.”

Relief loosens something in my chest. “Good. Because you scared the hell out of me tonight.”

His expression changes immediately. “Lana…”

“Yes?”

He reaches for my hand and threads his fingers through mine. “I love you.

The only thing I was doing was thinking of you,” Ryan murmurs, his grin fading into an expression of raw intensity. He cups my cheek with one of his large, warm hands, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that finally escaped. “I love you, Lana.”

My breath catches, and I wrap my fingers around his wrist.

“I love you so much it terrifies me. I am entirely and completely yours. No more lies, no more PR stunts, just us.” His eyes water and his expression tells me everything I need to know. He’s holding his heart out for me to take, and I do.

“I love you too, Ryan,” I choke out around a sob, happy tears blur my vision. I blink them away furiously, desperate to memorize everything about this moment. “I’ve loved you since that first date. Maybe even before then.”

His lips are on mine, hot and all consuming. I part my lips for him and bury my fingers in his hair. He groans into the kiss, sending a shiver through my body. He kisses me long and slow, stealing every ounce of breath from my lungs.