Chapter 92
CHAPTER NINETY-TWO
ASTRID
I love you.
The words replayed in my head over and over, and for a moment—even though I had nudged Arch to say it to me—I thought that … that I had been hearing things. Arch loved me? And he’d said it aloud too?
A moment passed without me saying anything, and Arch tore his gaze away.
“Forget it. I was just—”
Before he could finish his sentence, I grabbed his face and kissed him right on his mouth, savoring all those words that I knew he wanted to say to me, but hadn’t. He had been holding this back for so long—I could just feel it.
“Astrid,” he murmured, pulling away, “I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t you dare say that you didn’t mean it,” I whispered against his lips.
He stayed silent for a while, his body tensing. “Then why didn’t you say it back?”
My lips curled into a smirk. “I fucking love you, Arch. I was just … surprised that you’d actually said it. I didn’t think you’d ever tell me that you loved me. And maybe … I’m a little scared about how long I’ve loved you.”
I didn’t realize how long I had had a crush on him until now.
Since our parents had married, I’d always thought that he was my annoying stepbrother, but he had been protecting me from the first day that I met him.
He had been that guy in kindergarten class—when our parents didn’t even know each other—who shoved a kid off the slide for cutting in front of me when it was my turn.
Definitely not saying that should be the standard, but … why couldn’t it?
He didn’t speak, just relaxed slightly beside me.
“My life is a mess,” I whispered. “I don’t know what happened. Diya is … I don’t …”
“Yeah, well, nothing like that will happen again to you,” he said. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“Oh, yeah?” I asked, finally pulling away. “And how’re you gonna do that?”
Arch stood up, his expression still unreadable, but his eyes telling an entirely different story. They were softer and more alive than they ever had been. “You’ll see.”
And then he stepped out of the hospital room, leaving me alone.
And honestly? I hadn’t expected anything else from him.
That was enough to last lifetimes.
A couple of moments later, a nurse stepped into the room with a clipboard, followed by Rush. She eyed him cautiously even though he didn’t say a word, then walked over to me with a soft smile. “You ready to go home?”
“Yes.”
Once she discharged me and left, Rush handed me some clothes, still not speaking a word. While he had always kept to himself, he was watching me more intensely than usual today, and I knew why.
All the guys had been overprotective, and if Rush really had killed someone for me …
“How are you doing?” I asked him, buttoning my jeans.
“How are you doing?”
“Oh, you know, hanging in there,” I said. “But I asked you first.”
“Fine.” He swung his keys around his finger. “We’re going for a ride.”
I arched a brow. “Do I have a say in this?”
His lips curled into an unusual smile. “No.”