Chapter 38
SYDNEY
“Do you want to sit?” He holds out an arm, gesturing to the couches.
There is no way the frantic energy in my body would allow that, so I shake my head. “I’m okay like this.”
Define okay.
The way my heart is vibrating out of my body is not okay. And neither are my clammy palms.
What else could we possibly have to talk about?
“Listen,” I say, a lump forming in my throat, “if this is about the other day, for what it’s worth, I am sorry. I—”
“It’s not about the other day,” he says, his tone low, his expression closed off.
I can usually read him. But right now, I don’t have a clue what’s going on in his head.
Is it because of the adrenaline rush I’m only now coming down from?
Maybe.
Maybe you don’t want to know. Maybe you’re afraid of what you’ll see.
Am not.
“Is this about what happened earlier?” I blurt out. “The kiss? Tell Jade or Josie I’m s—”
“I’m not with Jade. Or Josie.” He says the words slowly, dark eyes studying me.
Seeing right through me.
Shit.
Wait.
He’s not with Jade. Or Josie. He didn’t pick either one.
“Y-you’re not?” I croak.
And what does that mean?
For me.
For us.
He grasps my uninjured hand and pulls me gently toward the couch. That electric spark is still there. And now, knowing that he didn’t pick Jade or Josie, the shame that came with touching him earlier no longer exists.
“I’m not. After…what happened between you and me at the ranch, I knew I couldn’t choose either of them.
My plan from the beginning was to end the relationship I found myself in as quickly as I could.
But that no longer felt right. Hell, maybe it never did.
So I ended the show,” he confesses. “None of the footage they shot will air, which means that Searching for Love may have already had its last season.”
A breath escapes me. Leigh will be devastated.
Leigh’s not here right now.
“So what’s next for you, then?” I say, keeping my tone light, teasing. “Another movie? You don’t have to worry about Scarlett the Stalker anymore.”
He smiles, though the expression fades quickly.
“Reverb Records is calling in the last clause of our contract. A reunion tour for Boys Next Door,” he says in a tone fitting for someone preparing to have a root canal or watch paint dry. “Complete with a behind-the-scenes, all-access documentary.”
I frown. “You aren’t excited to hang out with Asher more?”
“Asher’s fine. Luca and Maddox too.” He bows his head and sighs. “But Soren and I…well, let’s just say we aren’t close anymore.”
I never really liked Soren. He came across as whiny in interviews, like he was jealous of Asher and Cy, who were so charismatic.
“I’m getting off topic. I don’t really want to talk about the guys. Or the tour,” he says, squeezing my fingers.
And just like that, my stomach somersaults.
“What do you want to talk about?” I force the words out despite the Olympic level gymnastics routine going on in my GI tract.
“You.”
Breath catching, I zero in on his lips. On the way they wrap around the singular word and my core throbs to life.
“What about me?”
He huffs a laugh. “You’re a fucking badass. You punched Mara,” he says.
Pride fills me
Smiling, I look down at my right hand. The knuckles are angry and swollen, but the pain is gone.
“Scarlett,” I correct.
“Whoever.” He huffs. “You didn’t back down from her. Not once. Not even with all the terrible, awful things she said to you. She nearly ran you over in the woods. And she fucking blackmailed you. I didn’t even know about it. You didn’t say anything and—”
“What did it matter? I did what she wanted. There was no way I’d let those pictures get out.”
He growls. “I don’t give a shit if they did. I just wish you would have told me.”
“I wanted to protect you.” I sigh.
He rolls his eyes, his smile pure exasperation. “Could you please stop trying to protect me by keeping things from me?”
Well, that’s logical.
I nod. “I can try.”
“You know, that night in the cabin changed something for me,” he says.
“For me too,” I murmur.
And it wasn’t just the out-of-this-world sex. Although that didn’t hurt.
“Before then, I cared about you. I didn’t like it when you cried. Fuck, I hated it. Your story about Katie and all the emotion that came with it fucking broke me. And then after that night in the cabin, I couldn’t deny those feelings were growing. I couldn’t get you out of my head.”
“Maybe it’s because you spent just about every night in my bed,” I tell him.
The left corners of his lips lift. “I needed you next to me. And now I’ve gotten used to it and I sleep like shit without you.”
“I thought it was just me,” I admit, my heart stumbling at his admission.
He grasps my chin with a finger and thumb, tilting until my gaze is locked with his.
“This thing hasn’t been one sided since…well, ever. It didn’t start that way and, to be honest, I’m not really interested in it ending that way either.”
My lungs seize up, all the oxygen escaping me. What. The. Fuck?
I manage to inhale, blinking up at him. “What are you saying?”
Getting my hopes up is inevitable at this point. They’re up so high they might as well be the Empire State Building of positive thought.
“I’m saying that yes, it hurt, learning the truth about why you were there.
But I believe you. You started the show with one intention, and like it did for me, something unexpected happened.
It was easier to think you were lying about that.
But Mama and Gramps made sure I pulled my head out of my ass. ” He laughs.
My lips curl in a shaky smile, my vision blurry with tears.
“My feelings for you aren’t a past-tense thing.
I love you,” he says, so much emotion in his tone.
“I think I started falling when I spilled my coffee on that beautiful white dress that first day. And I don’t think I’m done yet.
Because those feelings get stronger every day.
” He licks his lips, his gaze turning serious.
“And I hoped you might be willing to give me a third chance to get this right since I fucked up my first two. What do you say, BB?”
Will I ever get tired of hearing my name on his lips?
Probably not.
“You and your pet names. What if I don’t want to be BB?” I tease, my voice watery.
His lips turn up into a smirk that has the temperature in the room ratcheting up ten degrees.
“You’re the only BB I want. Call me on my bullshit. Tell me when I’m acting like a self-centered idiot. So long as I get to call you mine.”
Am I a puddle on the floor?
Asking for a friend.
“I am yours,” I tell him. “Even if I don’t have your name tattooed on my body—and no, that’s not happening—it’s written on my heart. In permanent marker. I love you, Cyrus Darby.”
Surging toward him, I claim his lips and settle in his lap. His hands reacquaint themselves with my body, every caress lighting up my nerve endings.
Moaning, I grind against him and take the kiss deeper.
When my lungs finally remind me that breathing is an essential function for survival, I break the kiss, my chest rising and falling as I suck in oxygen.
“Can I show you the rest of my house?” he murmurs against my neck.
I shake my head. “I’m only interested in one room.”
In response, he nips at the tendon between my neck and shoulder, sending a shiver through me.
Fuck.
“I think I can help you with that,” he says.
“You better. I’ve missed you.”
“Missed you too, BB. And I intend to show you just how much.”
With his hands on my ass, he hauls himself up and guides my legs around his waist.
So this is what it’s like to be in love.
Yeah, I could get used to this.