He shook his head. “It wasn’t.”

Those words, simple and flat, terrified her under her soul.

“Ryder, I don’t...”

“You know it’s right. You know it is.”

And she didn’t know if he meant the kiss or him being the father of her baby or what. She didn’t know at all.

And she wasn’t sure she wanted to ask. Because she wasn’t sure she could stand there and talk to him for a moment longer.

It was strange, because she couldn’t hear the chatter of the people in the bar anymore. Couldn’t hear the music.

She could hear the thunder beginning to roll outside, and she could hear the beating of her own heart. She could hear a warning sounding in her mind, pounding against her temples. She couldn’t even see any of the other men in the bar; how would she leave with them?

And how would she kiss them with that brand of Ryder’s still impossibly hot against her mouth. It was impossible. And she knew it. Pressure built behind her eyes, and she wanted to squeeze them shut, turn away. She wanted to be anywhere but here.

But she couldn’t close this off, and she couldn’t seem to make him or herself disappear. None of the tricks that she had used as a scared little girl seemed to be on hand to bail her out of this. She couldn’t hide and make it go away, and she couldn’t seem to brazen it out, either. And there was no rescue, no one coming. Not for her. Because the one who did all the rescuing was the one making her want to run and hide. But she only knew how to run into Ryder’s arms, so that was making the moment decidedly more complicated than she would want it to be.

“Let’s go,” he said.

In the past when she had taken Ryder’s hand, she had known exactly where he was going to lead her. She had trusted it.

Like Peter taking Wendy out the window into Never Never Land. Except, she would climb into his, and she would find safety there.

In that place full of lost children who had found each other.

But this time, he was leading her outside, and she didn’t know where they were going to go.

Didn’t know what was going to happen.

But somehow, she must still trust him, because she was going. She was going, even though it terrified her.

When they went outside, the air was hot and heavy, and the first raindrops from the summer storm were falling fat and heavy on the sidewalk, on her arms, her hair, and she knew that the blond mass was going to grow exponentially in the damp and humidity.

A silly thing to think about right now, but a safe thing. A certain thing.

And everything else seemed not quite so.

Thunder cracked through the sky, lightning splitting the air behind it and lighting up the street. And she could see his face, all hard and intense, and she hoped there wouldn’t be more lightning, because she liked it better when she couldn’t see him.