“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.”
