Christian
Brightness flooded my vision.
If this was Heaven–or more likely Hell–someone was going to need to talk to someone about the light fixtures here.
I blinked rapidly when a sharp pain went through my head. Wincing, I clutched my head in my hands. I supposed pain meant I was still alive. Otherwise, what was the point?
"Sir, please try not to move."
There was something around my neck, constricting my movements. I clawed at it.
"Please don't do that, cuore mio," a voice said. I blinked my eyes repeatedly because I knew that voice all too well. "Listen to the paramedics."
"Robyn."
"I'm right here," she whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."
Still in the front seat of my car, I took in the scene around me. The passenger side was completely and entirely smashed in. Red and blue were blinking everywhere.
"Get me out of this," I croaked, my mouth dry. I could hardly see her in my peripheral vision.
"You need to stay in it," Robyn said calmly. "Please."
A random face moved in front of me, flashing a pen light in both of my eyes. "Do you have any neck or back pain?"
"Just my right arm."
The EMT, I'm assuming, spoke with his partner and then looked back at me.
"I'm really fine. Get it off me," I ordered, aware I had no authority in this situation but hoped they would do it anyway.
Reluctantly, they pulled the plastic off my neck, and I groaned in relief. Rolling my neck from side to side–which greatly alarmed everyone around me–I stepped out of the car and immediately stumbled.
Soft hands came up to me and held me steady as I tried to right my spine. Robyn was tiny–there was no way she could hold up the weight of my body–but here she was, saving me as always.
"On a scale of 1-10, how bad is your pain?" one of them asked.
"Two," I shrugged.
They stared at me like I was fucking crazy. I was. I didn't feel physical pain very often.
"He has a high pain tolerance," Robyn answered for me, slowly drawing away but I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to me, my senses slowly coming back to me as I smelled cinnamon and berries in her hair.
The EMTs shot me a dry look, unimpressed and confused at why I wasn't in more pain.
"You are incredibly lucky," the EMT said. "The car hit the passenger side and not yours. That arm is going to take some time to heal and you might have a concussion but other than that, you're not in bad shape. Do you want to go to the hospital?"
Robyn clipped a yes before I could reply that I didn't need to go.
I looked down at her, noticing red eyes and shallow breaths escaping her.
"Robyn, I really don't need to–"
She glared at me with an unfamiliar intensity that shut me up immediately and then turned back to the EMTs to talk to them about whatever treatment I needed. Her hair was half-up, half-down as she stood in her leggings, white sweater, and a cardigan. Of course, the first thing I noticed was that I could still see her freckles. It immediately made me feel better.
"How are you here?" I asked.
Her throat worked as she stared at the blood on my shirt and the mangled mess that was my arm. "Apparently I'm the emergency contact in your phone."
Ah. Of course she was. I'd never changed it.
"I'm fine," I said softly. When she didn't reply, I pressed two fingers to the bottom of her chin and pulled her face up to meet mine. Her eyes were closed. "Look at me."
Finally, she did. The intensity had melted from her eyes–just fear and concern now.
"I'm fine. It's just my arm."
"You could have gotten hurt really badly," she whispered. "You could have died. Do you have any idea? Do you have any idea how every single night for my entire life the last thing I do at night is pray that something like this never happens?"
Guilt riddled my bones. "Robyn–"
"Your temper terrifies me, Christian." She must have seen me flinch because she quickly amended the statement to, "Not because I think you'll hurt me but because I stay up at night worrying that you will somehow hurt yourself."
I nodded. "I know, baby. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
"You could have–"
"Don't think about the could have. Nothing happened. I am fine, okay?"
She nodded and took a step back, hugging herself with trembling hands. Without particularly thinking, I stretched my uninjured arm and grabbed her hand, hauling her into my chest. Her entire body stiffened as my hand found the nape of her neck and pulled her closer.
After what felt like an eternity, her hands wrapped around my back and she sunk into my chest, stepping in between my legs. Tremors coursed through her body and I felt her hands shaking even as they held me. Quiet sobs travelled through her, tugging at every piece of my body.
I held her even tighter, partly because her berry scent was the most comforting thing I had ever experienced and also because I didn't want to see her cry. That would, without a fucking doubt, break me into more pieces than I could count. Pressing my lips to the crown of her head, I ran my hand through her hair the way she had done a million times before.
"I'm okay," I whispered into her hair. "It'll be okay."
Robyn clutched my hand with a death grip the entire way to the hospital and sat beside me as I got stitched up in the ER. She answered tons of questions on my behalf–allergies, medications, last oral intake ("probably didn't eat all day"), pertinent medical history, blah blah. It shouldn't have been surprising that she knew all of this about me but it made me feel warm inside.
It was late when I was finally discharged and she called an Uber to take us both to my apartment.
"Go wash up." She nodded to my bathroom while wrapping a plastic bag around my fresh bandages so they wouldn't get wet in the shower. Then, she turned around and picked up her keys.
My face fell as I stared at her for a moment, wanting her to stay but not wanting to ask her. I had no right. As if reading my mind, she smiled.
"I'm just going to get us food. I'll be back," she said softly.
Nodding gratefully, I watched her leave and turned to the bathroom. The hot water did wonders for my aching muscles. The pain was starting to hit now that the adrenaline was seeping away. I winced as every drop of water on my body scorched through me, unhappy with the impact of the crash. Scrubbing relentlessly, the dried blood on my arm and chest wouldn't relent so I stepped out in a towel, trying to find a washcloth and knocked over literally everything on my bathroom counter in the process. I bit out a curse. Being one armed was a pain in the ass.
"What happened?" Robyn, apparently back with food, ran in alarmed and blinked rapidly when she saw I only had a towel around my waist. Her gaze hit the floor immediately and her cheeks flushed. She motioned to my chest. "You didn't even get all the blood off, Christian."
"That's why I'm out," I grumbled, running a hand through my wet hair. "Trying to find something to wash it off."
Slowly, she lifted her eyes to meet mine, peeking up through her long lashes. They trailed down my chest and she bit her lip as stepped into the bathroom, opening drawers until she found a small towel. Nodding toward the counter, she motioned for me to lean on it and drenched the towel with warm water.
Hesitant hands slowly wiped dry blood off my chest and every once in a while, her fingertips caressed my bare skin, leaving live wires in their wake. Though she didn't dare make eye contact with me, I stared at her the entire time. She knew too, with the way her face was a permanent deep shade of red.
When every single bit of blood was washed off of me, she left and let me put clothes on, only for my immobilized ass to walk out without a shirt.
She shot me a dry, amused look. "Do you normally lounge around here half naked?"
"Fully naked," I deadpanned, just to watch her face turn red. When it unfailingly did, I laughed. "I'm not trying to seduce you," I said, lying through my teeth. "I can't put my shirt on."
Her eyes softened immediately and she padded her way to me with a small smile on her face.
"Is this how you seduced girls in high school?" She asked as she tugged the shirt gently over my shoulders.
"No," I scoffed. "I didn't care about girls in high school."
She hummed, disbelieving.
"Seriously."
"Okay," she drawled, shaking her head. She put my good arm through the sleeve.
"If it were you, I would have," I said firmly.
Her eyes met mine, the blues more intoxicating than ever before. "If it were me?" She sounded tepid.
"It would be genuine."
"Oh? And what would you say?"
"I'd tell you that you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my entire life. That you are kind and loving and generous and talented and being around you makes me heart beat."
She held my stare and didn't look down. I liked that. Then, she moved her hand to my chest and pressed slightly to feel my heartbeat. It was, in fact, erratic.
"Would it have worked?" I asked, voice hoarse and filled with some unidentified emotion.
"You wouldn't have needed to say anything."
"But if I did?"
Robyn didn't hesitate before answering. "Yes."
I brushed a hand across her cheek and she shuddered at the touch. The urge to kiss her made my hands tremble. I wanted to make her mine.
Before I had the chance to do just that, her phone rang and she jolted, taking a step back. While she gave an anxious Bella the latest on my situation, I moved the food to the living room and settled on the floor. She texted the Ariadne an update and then settled down next to me.
She made me watch Grey's Anatomy, helped me eat because my right arm was immobile, and we talked and talked and talked until it turned dark. We played music on my speakers while we cleaned up, both dancing the line between tipsy and drunk.
I caught her arm when she picked up her cardigan, turning to the door to leave again. Her inquisitive gaze ran across my face.
"Stay with me?" My voice bled with vulnerability.
She stilled. "Will you play the piano for me?"
I waved my injured hand.
She chuckled, smiled, and said, "If you'd like."
My eyes followed her everywhere as she moved around my space and I pretended my heart didn't thrum in approval at the fact that she was really here and she was really staying. She washed her face in my bathroom, tied her hair into a thick, loose braid and then parked her hands on her hips.
"Can I borrow a shirt?"
"You can take the one off my chest." The words slipped out of my intoxicated mouth.
"But I worked so hard to put in on, cuore mio," she pouted.
"Believe me, I'll find the strength to take it off myself," I deadpanned.
She only raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Are you breaking the friend zone, Mr. Ryder?"
Jesus fuck. The last thing I needed right now was for her to walk around in her plaid fucking skirts with that braid in her brown locks, calling me Mr. Ryder. She wouldn't even need to be looking at me for me to come all over that pretty face of hers.
I narrowed my eyes, both my expression and my dick hard as fucking stone. I was aching for a taste of her. Dying to feel her in my hands. Desperate to bury myself inside her. I wanted to cuff her to my bed and make her come over and over and over again until she looked at me with soft, submissive blue eyes.
Agitated, I nodded my head to my closet and she chuckled, grabbing a shirt that nearly reached the middle of her thighs when she put it on.
I laid down in bed while she sat next to me with her legs stretched out. Slow tunes from the playlist we'd built together as kids played through the bedroom while her fingers stroked my hair. At some point, my injured arm had wrapped around her thighs, but she didn't say a word, just let me press my face against her legs.
"I'm in heaven," I mumbled.
"It's the painkillers," she chuckled.
"No, it's you. It's falling asleep next to you."
"You say the sweetest things, Christian Ryder."
"You're worth saying them to, Robyn Hale."
Her voice was soft and pensive when she asked, "You were angry when you were driving today, weren't you?"
I bristled and rolled onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. "I got into a fight with Dad."
Calmly, she laid down next to me, bracing herself up with a bent elbow while the other still ran through my hair. "What happened?"
I told her everything. I didn't miss a single detail. As I did, the weight in my chest unfurled even more until I was light as a feather.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I can't imagine what it's like."
I shrugged. "It's fine."
She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. "It's not fine. But I need you to do something for me."
My face burned as I turned to look at her. "Anything."
"Promise me you won't ever drive when you're mad again. Promise me that you'll call me instead."
"I'll be calling you a lot then," I warned.
Her lips turned up into a smile as she found my hand and wrapped her finger in mine.
"You can always call me, cuore mio. I have and will always be here. Waiting."
She slipped under the covers as I stayed on top. As she fell asleep, I felt her hand slow down in my hair. I drew my gaze to her face and let out a breath. Twelve freckles, smooth cheekbones, light brown hair.
Fuck.
She was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her. To acknowledge that I really could have had her. To understand that there was nothing more that I wanted than to have her. Just for her to exist in my space, in my life, in my mind.
When I knew she was asleep, I debated for a while and then let my body take over. Wrapping an arm around her tiny waist, I pulled her back to my chest and inhaled all the berry scent that seemed to surround her everywhere she went.
My blood rushed through my body so fucking fast I was trembling as I held her. My hand only stopped shaking when she sleepily interlaced her fingers in mine and tucked our hands under her cheek. There was only one thing I knew for fucking sure.
I couldn't ever let go of my best friend.
Not again.