13. Hallie #3
"Hi," he says against my hair, and I can hear the smile in his voice. "Nice speech in there."
"You heard?"
"Church doors are thin. Also you were really loud." His hand comes up to cup the back of my head, holding me close. "For the record? You're wrong about one thing."
I pull back just enough to see his face. "What?"
"I'm not too good for you." His thumb brushes over my cheek, catching a tear I didn't realize had fallen.
"I'm a mechanic who barely graduated high school and makes terrible jokes and has been in love with you since you were sixteen and wore that Backstreet Boys t-shirt to the Fourth of July barbecue. "
My breath catches. "Caius?—"
"Let me finish." His voice is gentle but firm. "I'm not too good for you. But I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to be good enough for you anyway. If you'll let me."
"The rest of your life?" The words come out shaky, hopeful. "That's a pretty long time."
"Yeah." He leans his forehead against mine. "Figured I should probably stop running from the best thing that's ever happened to me. My mom threatened me with a wooden spoon. It was very motivating."
Despite everything, I laugh. It comes out watery and a little hysterical, but it's real. "Your mom knows?"
"Everyone knows, Hal," he says, and there's something almost sheepish in his expression, the smile softening at the edges. "We're absolutely terrible at faking it. Have been from the very start, actually. I'm pretty sure half the town figured it out before we did."
I shake my head. "So what do we do now?"
His grin widens. "Well, you just publicly dumped your ex and declared your love for me in front of about two hundred people, so I'm thinking we should probably make this official. Also, your brother is probably going to come out here any second, so we should really get our story straight."
"About that." I wince. "I maybe mentioned your hands on my body. In church. In front of his grandmother."
"Oh, Hallie." His voice is strangled somewhere between horror and helpless amusement, like he can't decide whether to laugh or find the nearest escape route.
"I know, I know," I say quickly, the words tumbling over themselves in my haste to explain, to somehow justify the verbal carnage I just unleashed in the Lord's house. "But I was on a roll and the words just kept coming and I couldn't stop myself and?—"
He kisses me. Right there in the church parking lot, in full view of anyone who might look out the window. It's not soft or tentative or fake. It's real and deep and claiming, his hands cradling my face like I'm something precious.
When he pulls back, we're both breathing hard.
"I love you," I tell him, because apparently I've lost all capacity for playing it cool. "I'm in love with you. I have been for years. And I don't care if it's messy or complicated or if Ryan murders us both. I just need you to know."
"I love you too." He says it simply, like it's the easiest truth in the world. "I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner. I'm sorry I let you think any of this was fake for me. It never was."
"Never?"
"Never." He kisses my forehead, my nose, my lips again. "From the second you agreed to this insane plan, I was gone."
The heavy church doors swing open with a creak that echoes across the parking lot. I can hear voices now, multiple voices, filtering out into the cool evening air, along with the shuffling of footsteps on the stone steps. My stomach clenches. Reality is about to crash down on us hard.
"Ready to face the firing squad?" Caius asks, his voice gentle despite the question. His thumb traces reassuring circles on my cheek, and there's something in his eyes, determination mixed with the faintest hint of concern, that tells me he'll stand beside me no matter what comes next.
I look up at him, this man who's been quietly, steadfastly exactly what I needed even when I was too scared, too conditioned to being the good girl, the reliable one, to admit it.
This man who invented imaginary car problems just to see me, who drove across town in the middle of the night because I needed him, who kissed me like I was precious and rare instead of ordinary.
My heart feels too big for my chest as I take in the familiar sight of him, the dark hair falling into his eyes, and see something tender and real, the grease still under his fingernails from working on someone's engine earlier today.
I smile, and it's wobbly at the edges, a little watery with emotion, but it's genuine. Completely, utterly genuine.
"As long as you're with me," I whisper, my voice catching slightly on the words.
His hand tightens around mine, fingers interlacing like they belong there, like they've always belonged there, and his other hand cups my jaw with a gentleness that makes my breath hitch.
"Always," he promises, and the word lands between us like a vow, solid and unshakeable and real. "I promise you, Hallie. Always."
And when Ryan appears in the doorway, face stormy but eyes resigned, I don't let go of Caius's hand.
I'm done faking it.
This is real.