Page 35 of Grief & Glitter

“Okay. We could drive around Rochester for three hours and tell everyone the fundraiser sucked.”

His laugh came easier that time. “I want to go. I want to go with you if you still want to go with me. I’d understand if you⁠—”

“I want to.” My chest tightened.

He squeezed my fingers. “And you look hot. Very. The suit was an inspired choice.”

His dad made a loud coughing noise behind us. “Photos before you leave.”

Ryan groaned, and I almost suggested that a couple of photos weren’t going to hurt. Only there were a lot of photos, including one where he was fixing my pocket square and another where I was looking down at him and apparently smiling in a way that made his dad stop taking pictures for a second. He waved us out the door, pressed a hand to Ryan’s shoulder, and nodded.

I offered Ryan my arm for the short walk to the truck then opened the truck door and realized this was probably fuck-up number two. Fuck-up one was losing my ability to speak.

“I have heels on. I’ve got to climb up,” he said and pointed at the huge step.

I looked from him to the truck then down at his shoes. “Oh. Can I help?”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “How?”

I considered several options and discarded all of them. Were we at the level where I could scoop him up and place him in the seat? He was small enough, and I’m sure I wouldn’t drop him, but would that be a step too far? Fuck, this wasn’t something I’d thought about.

Ryan started laughing. “Turn around, giant.” I did, and his hands landed on my shoulders. “Do not move.”

“I’m not moving.”

He used me as a support while he climbed into the truck. I stood there grinning at absolutely nothing. Then I turned around to find Ryan settling his dress around his knees with as much dignity as anyone could manage after using me as portable scaffolding.

“Done. Thank you.”

He looked so damned beautiful sitting there, and I wanted to…

Kiss him? Touch him? Hold him?

Get a grip.

Waterways on the Lake was decorated in Copperheads colors, huge team banners hanging behind the casino tables, signed jerseys and sticks displayed for the silent auction, and enough photographs of smiling kids from the mobile dental program to remind everyone why we were there. There were donors, sponsors, season-ticket holders, local business owners, team staff, players, partners, and enough people that I suddenly understood why Coach had threatened us with death if anyone got drunk and embarrassed the organization.

I handed my keys to the valet and walked around the truck. Ryan was already getting out.

“Wait,” I said, hurrying to his side and offering my hand.

He took it and let me help him down, his fingers cool in mine. The lights from the entrance caught the glitter at the corners of his eyes, tiny flashes of blue and silver when he looked up at me, and brushed across the high line of his cheekbones. His skin seemed softer somehow under the warm light, his lips darker than usual, and for a second, I forgot I was supposed to be helping him out of the truck.

He stepped down carefully, one hand in mine and the other gathering the dress away from his heels. The fabric shifted around his legs, and then he was standing right in front of me, close enough that I caught the faint scent of whatever he’d used after shaving, mixed with something warmer that was simply Ryan.

There was no reason to keep holding his hand once both his feet were safely on the ground. I should’ve let go, but I didn’t and neither did he. His thumb moved once against the side of mine, so small I might have imagined it, and my heart gave one stupid, heavy thump. Holding his hand for those few extra seconds felt amazing.

Then Ryan glanced toward the entrance, and I saw the nerves come back into his expression.

“You ready?” I asked.

“No.”

I tightened my fingers around his. “Let’s do this, gorgeous.”

That earned me a smile, and the glitter caught the light again.

Fuck, he was beautiful.