His fingers graze mine as he slips the sheet from my grip and tucks it away. The rest of his body remains perfectly still. Light from the alley comes in through the window, hitting his eyes in a way that makes them look almost silver like the sun touching the lake on a dreary day. “I get that you feel guilty.” His lips form a slight grimace. “I do too. But you can’t act reckless because you’re alive and they aren’t.”

His words hit me like a punch in the lungs, stealing my breath.

Annie. My dad. Dopney. Adam.

A dull whir underlies the dark silence.

Ryan’s eyes flit back and forth between mine. “I’ll find a group to come forward because you asked me to. But you need to give me time.”

“I’m out of time.” My voice shrinks. “We both know the attack’s meant for me.”

For the second time tonight, I want him to tell me I’m paranoid, to deny it as a possibility. But his silence confirms what I know is true. Ryan looks at me with that expression of his, when his edge is gone and his guard is down and his face is full of depth and emotion. Like he doesn’t know what to say. Like there’s nothing to say.

I cross my arms, pressing them tight against my ribs to ease the sharp ache inside me.

He takes a half step toward me, so our toes touch. “I won’t let that happen.” His voice is low and coarse.

His gaze flickers across my face.

My stomach flips.

Ryan grabs my arms, and every muscle I have turns taut. His thumb brushes against my bicep as he pulls me in, closing the last inches between us. My face flushes, and I’m thankful it’s too dark to see the red blotches I know are spreading up my neck.

His eyes search mine as he lowers his face. He looks uncertain, like he’s waiting for me to stop him or slap him or give any indication that I want to kiss him back, but my thoughts are empty, wiped away. I stare at the straight line of his lips as they near mine before uncrossing my arms and letting them fall against his. A wave of heat rushes through me. His lips brush mine, and he kisses me. The kiss is gentle and short and nothing like I’d imagined.

He pulls away like he changed his mind, like he realizes I’m not worth the risk, or the kiss itself was terrible. But instead of stepping back, he holds his face inches away from mine, searching for a reaction. He looks so vulnerable that my heart flutters, and my lips flicker upward at the irony of it.