Chapter 38 #2
I should be insulted. But the fact is I have been clueless. I’m amazed about how much. Besides, he keeps looking at me with that tender gaze, as if, even in annoyance, I’m precious to him. It squeezes at my heart and makes me all fluttery.
“I’ve never been able to think clearly when it comes to you,” I confess.
At this, he smiles, a slow unfurling that pulls wide. “All right, then. Let me be crystal clear. No more lies or evasions. Just the truth.”
Slowly, he rises from his chair to sit at my side and take my hand. “Penelope Morrow, I have been in love with you since I was ten years old.”
My world flips over on its axis. “What?”
He gives me a pained grimace. “I don’t claim to understand it fully, but that day you cut your brow open and I held on to you while Jan ran to get help, I knew with bone-deep conviction that you were mine to love. Back then, it was the innocent love of a child.
“But it never faded. I was always aware of you. It was like some superpower, a built-in Penelope radar. The mere mention of your name grabbed my complete attention. Whenever you were around, I’d light up. And you never saw.”
The darks slashes of his brows snap together as he looks at me in bafflement. “How could you not see that? Honestly, it pissed me off some days. But then I realized, you weren’t ever going to see me when you never bothered to even look. You’d just run, and it broke my heart every time.”
August huffs out a half laugh full of self-deprecation. “I tried to get over it, over you. But I couldn’t. The heart knows what the heart knows.”
So great is my surprise, it takes a bit for his words to truly sink in, for me to really hear him. When I do, however, it’s as though I’m champagne uncorked. Giddy, effervescent joy bubbles up and overflows. And I start to laugh. Really laugh. I can’t help it.
Unfortunately, August takes it the wrong way. He rears back as though struck. “You’re laughing?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. It’s nerves. Irony. Both.
” Weakly, I reach out and catch hold of his hand, squeezing it.
“You loved me the whole time? I can’t believe .
. . August Luck, I have been in love with you since I was nine years old and you cuddled me close while I bled all over your shirt.
You were my hero. You’ve always been. It’s always been you. ”
My words seem to bounce around in the following silence as he simply looks at me blankly. Then, as if snapping out of it, his brows lift in clear shock. “How . . .” He frowns and narrows his eyes in annoyance. “You always looked at me like I was something foul the cat dragged in!”
And he talks of me not seeing things as they are.
“I looked at you the way a painfully shy girl does when facing the object of her affection and being totally overwhelmed with feeling.”
“Damn it, Pen. I didn’t have a clue.” With a huff, he stands and grasps the back of his neck with both hands like he doesn’t know what to do with this information.
“As you said, we never see ourselves the way others do.” My smile is wry. “I guess I’m a better actress than I think. And anyway, why would I have a clue about your feelings? You never looked at me either.”
At that, he drops his arms with a scowl. “Oh, I fucking looked. You simply never looked back.”
“And none of the girls you hooked up with were remotely like me—”
“There’s a reason why none of them were like you. Because if it couldn’t be you then I was damned well not going to settle for a weak copy.”
Heat prickles behind my lids. His words, the emotion in his expression . . . I want to hold him close. Soothe away all those past hurts. But he’s on a tear now.
“Are you going to keep arguing with me on this, Pen? Or are you going to accept that I love you, just as you are, and always will?” He looks so good standing there, irate and flushed. Strong and tall and mine.
Giddiness returns. I’m floating with it. “No more arguing. I love you, August. So much.”
It’s as though I’ve winded him. He sinks to his knees before me. Eye to eye now, he searches my face. “Say it again, Penelope.”
Now that I have, it’s easy. Like breathing. “I love you. I love you.”
His answering grin is like the sun, bright and hot. Then he kisses me with such quiet intensity, my insides go soft as warmed butter.
He’s mine. He’s mine.
Laughing, I tackle him. He takes my weight easily, holding on as I wrap myself around him like a monkey, then stands to set us both back on the bed, chuckling as he flops against me.
I kiss that smiling mouth. August hums in pleasure and deepens the kiss, his hands gently touching my cheeks, trailing through my hair, finding the small of my back. Soft words of love flow from his lips.
Love. Loving him used to be so hard. I struggled to ignore it for so long. Now it’s everything. A balm. A gift. I sigh in pleasure.
We do nothing more than kiss each other, touch like we can’t believe this is real. The sun sinks low in the sky, and we’re cuddled up on the bed, limbs intertwined.
Idly, August toys with the tips of my fingers. “I have one more confession, then I’m done.”
“If you say so.” I’m so happy now, he could tell me anything and I’d still be floating. August loves me.
“When we started this agreement, you asked me if there was any risk of me falling for you, and I said I’d already found my true love in football.”
“I will never resent sharing you with football.”
“I know that. But I was lying.”
Lifting my head, I meet his gaze.
Silver eyes are soft with emotion. “I meant you. I loved you before football. And one day, when I can no longer play the game, I’ll love you still.”
“August Luck, you say things like that, and I can’t think.”
He chuckles, ducking his head to kiss me. “You’re my everything. You’re my reason.”
“Gaahhh!”
His laughter deepens. Hauling me close, he rolls between my legs and braces himself above me. “I kind of like flustered Pen.”
“Oh, that’s good,” I say with a breeziness I don’t feel. “You keep talking like that and you’ll see a lot more of her.”
He’s still grinning as I grasp the back of his neck and pepper kisses over his face. “You should know,” I say, between kisses. “Wherever you go, however you choose to live your life, no one is going to love you as much as I do.”
He closes his eyes and nuzzles my neck. “Still feels like a dream hearing you say that.”
“For me too.”
“You know,” he says after a moment. “I almost hate to bring it up but you never really said anything about my fake fiancée plan.”
“Oh, well, the whole ‘I’ve loved you forever’ dual confession side-tracked me.”
He nips my earlobe. “You’re not upset about what I did?”
“Should I be? I suppose . . . But when I think about you doing all that just so you could spend more time with me . . .” I shrug. “I don’t feel upset. I think it’s kind of—”
“Don’t say it.” The dark warning has me grinning.
“Hey. I thought you claimed sweet as ‘your’ word.”
“Mine to veto at will.”
“You only get two vetoes a year.”
“A year? But I’m sweet way more than—”
“Aha! You admit it.” I poke his side, loving the way he yelps, ticklish and laughing. “Now that I think about it, your pet name should be ‘Sweets,’ not mine.”
“Penelope?” Quicksilver eyes twinkle.
“August.”
“I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too . . . sweetie pie.”
“Veto.”