Only When It's Us (Bergman Brothers #1)

by Chloe Liese

But the truth is, as much as I spring to the defense of the people I love, as ready as I am to lean in a shoulder, to shove and struggle for possession every moment I’m on the field, I do not like verbal conflict.

I want to tell her that I’d miss everything life had to offer if it meant I got to keep her always. I want to tell her I’m scared she’s sicker than she lets on, that I’ll hate myself for spending nights doing what regular college kids do when I could have been spending those fleeting moments with her.

She’s fiery and pissed. I find it much more delightful than I should.

It was surprising and welcome when Willa signed sorry in class. And the next time I saw her, I took a chance. She understood my hodgepodge sign for telling her the food she was making smelled fucking incredible, and it made something in my chest twist with warmth. I liked being able to meet her eyes when I communicated with her, instead of having my head buried in my phone, waiting for her to turn away from me and read my words. It felt closer, more intimate.

Intimate? What the hell, Ryder?

Willa and I are collaborative partners, and maybe we have a few things in common—stubbornness, a background in soccer, a love of shrimp scampi—but that’s it. We’d gouge each other’s eyes out before we got intimate.

I thought I was past grieving what I lost, but maybe grief isn’t linear. Maybe I can accept what I’ve lost and still mourn it. Maybe I always will.

But Willa? Willa’s a ball-busting, fire-breathing, hell-raising woman.

When I’m with Ryder, I never question whether he’s present or listening intently. I never doubt that he’s taking pains to understand me, that he’s observing everything I do and say, even if it’s pissing him off.

The irony is not lost on me, that he’s the first man who’s ever truly made me feel heard in my life and he can’t hear a word I’m saying.

Maybe I’m a little tired of being big, brave Willa, who juggles it all. Maybe, just maybe Ryder Bergman wants to be that guy who catches a ball or two for me.

Your love is as hairpin-trigger as your temper, Willa Rose. You love selectively and passionately. You fight only the wars that are close to your heart.”

It’s chaos in my head, a hurricane in my heart. Emotions collide, intensifying into frantic energy. I’m a building storm, the first bolt of singeing electricity about to touch down.

He swallows and blinks, snapping himself out of it. “Sorry. Caveman moment.” A smile tugs at my mouth. “Caveman moment?” “You’re beautiful. I have four brothers about to see you. I’m feeling a little possessive.”

It might take me a while, but I’ll convince Willa Sutter she’s safe to share everything with me, to take the leap and risk her heart, if it’s the last thing I do.

I stare at him, caught in one of those moments where I find it particularly surreal that I can both see his face and hear his voice. I liked him so much when I had neither of them. How can I resist him now?

Shaking his head, Ryder slips his fingers through my hair and smooths the sweaty flyaways off my forehead. “You really think that once I had you, I’d ever let us end over something so inconsequential.”

“I can be happy anywhere, Willa. As long as you’re there, and there’s earth and sky around me.” His smile deepens. “But you don’t want it to be that simple. Because you’re scared of where it leads.”

“I’m scared too, Sunshine. This is vulnerable shit.” His mouth is a breath away from mine. “I just know I’d rather be afraid with you than fearless with anyone else.”

“Willa Rose Sutter, I will do everything humanly possible with every breath I have never to hurt you.”

“I want Ryder who read to my dying mother,” she whispers. “I want Ryder who brought me whiskey and peanut butter cups and was the first man to ever slow down and hold me and help me feel safe enough to fall apart. I want the man who carried me down a mountain today. I want his quiet strength and his big heart. I want you.”

My eyes meet hers, and my heart burns with knowledge. I love her. I’ve known I loved her, but the truth bursts inside my chest, surges up my throat, and beats a violent tattoo inside my mind as I stare into her eyes.

“I want what you want,” I tell him, loud and clear, slow and sure. I don’t want him to miss a word I say. “All-in, fair and square. I want to be afraid with you rather than fearless and alone. Only when it’s us.” Ryder’s hands are vise grips on my waist. “Because I love you, Ryder Bergman. I’m scared shitless to say it, but I love you. I love you, and I always will.”

“But I want your life to be my life, Sunshine. I’ll do whatever it takes for your world to be mine.”

My ear rests over his heart. It’s pounding, fast. It’s this tiny reminder that the man holding me is just as fragile. He’s just as easily wounded and broken. He’s taking a risk, loving me.

“You okay?” I ask hoarsely. “I feel shattered and put back together, all at once,” she says. “Does that make any sense?” I trace my fingers over her lips. “I think so. Kind of how I feel, too.”

“I think that’s what it means to love the way I love you. To love so much you feel broken open and at the same time healed. Maybe that’s what it means to be vulnerable? Maybe that’s intimacy? Whatever it is, whatever it means, I don’t want it to ever end. I never want to stop feeling this kind of love for you. I want us to love each other this deeply, this powerfully, always. Promise me, Ryder.”