If I Told You I Loved You, How Far Would You Run?

It takes an hour of crying and soothing and coaxing but eventually I convince Ryan to let me take him back to my apartment, where I tuck him into my bed.

“Now you just lie here and I’ll make you something to eat, okay?” I tell him and drop a kiss on his forehead before I can chicken out. “Feel better soon,” I say and scramble off to take on the kitchen.

I settle on baking snicker-doodle cookies and making hot chocolate. Delicious, comfort food—should be perfect, right? Singing to myself, I dance around the kitchen until the timer on the oven goes off.

When I come back into my room, carrying a tray of cookies and chocolaty goodness, Ryan’s asleep, and I pause for a second to watch his peaceful slumber. You angel, I think affectionately, setting the tray down on my bedside table. When did you fall from heaven?

Barely containing a happy squeal, I crawl onto my bed and cuddle up to Ryan. I know he’s asleep and probably dreaming of somebody else, but that doesn’t stop me from wrapping my arms around him and rocking him back and forth and in a moment of giddiness, I sing a quiet song in his ear:

“When the moon fell in love with the sun
All was golden in the sky
All was golden when the day met the night”

“Mm? Bren?” Ryan mumbles, shifting in his sleep before his honeyed eyes flutter open. “What are you—?”

“I made you cookies, sunshine,” I say with a smile.

He rolls his eyes at the nickname but happily accepts the tray and takes a tentative bite of a cookie. “Wow, it’s actually good!” he exclaims, looking at me in surprise.

“Thanks,” I say with a wry laugh. “I’ll try to take that as a compliment.”

“Oh, it is,” Ryan says. “Really, it is.”

After we finish the cookies and hot chocolate, Ryan climbs out of my bed and stretches. “As much fun as this is, I should probably get home now,” he says with a yawn.

“Do you need me to drive you or …” I let my voice trail off uncertainly. Or what?

“It’s fine,” Ryan says. “I’ll take the bus. It’s what Spencer’s gonna do since you stole his car, right?”

Oh yeah. About that … “What if you get jumped again?” I babble nervously. “I can’t let you take the bus.”

“No,” Ryan says firmly, meeting my anxious gaze. “I won’t get jumped again.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“At least let me walk you to the bus stop,” I counter.

Ryan flashes me a smile. “Okay,” he says simply.

We walk in silence to the bus stop and I see Ryan’s hand swinging by his side and oh man, do I want to take that hand and hold it in my own but I don’t.

When we see the headlights of the bus coming up the road, Ryan turns to be and grabs my face. “Ry?” I begin. “What are you—?”

He cuts me off by roughly kissing me.

What?

Stunned, I begin to kiss back, but Ryan pulls away. “Uh,” he clears his throat awkwardly. “Thanks for everything, Bren.” And he boards the bus, leaving me staring after him with my jaw dropped open in a perfect O.