She clenched his shirt. He closed his arms around her and murmured words of comfort. He rocked her like a child. He pressed his nose against her head,...his brows knitted as anguish squeezed his chest, a keener pain than any physical ones he had felt before. He knew that she is all the reason he needed for staying alive.But he did not want her memory of him to be tarnished. He did not want to be a shriveled figure incapable of controlling his own body. He did not want machines to breathe for him. I'm all alone and—" "You may be but I'm not! Good God!" He cracked up. "Relax, Ryan," he said when he could talk again. "I'm kidding. God, I thought all you musicians were supposed to be depraved and into all kinds of sexual things." "Yeah, well, think again." She huffed out a breath. "Keep that up and you won't get any sex at all when I get back." "How about if I let you spank me as punishment?" "What the hell is wrong with you?" Ryan tried to sound angry but she was laughing, too. "Nothing,. More

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