Chapter 28 #2
I push off the counter and close the distance between us in a few strides. Standing behind her, I reach out, my fingers brushing her shoulder. She stills, her breath hitching as I lean in.
“I’m here because I can’t stay away,” I say. “Because we belong together. Because we make sense.”
Her shoulders tense, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she turns slowly, her eyes locking with mine, a flicker of uncertainty shadowing their usual fire. She shakes her head, letting out a soft, hesitant breath.
“Do we?” she asks quietly. “What if… what if it was all because of the forbidden aspect? What if we can’t be anything beyond that?
Because sneaking around, sleeping together in secret, that’s one thing.
But a real relationship? I…” Her voice falters, her gaze dropping to the floor as her fingers fidget nervously. “I don’t know.”
I reach out, gently tilting her chin up so her eyes meet mine again.
“That’s fear talking, not you,” I say firmly, my thumb grazing her jawline.
“You’re scared of what this could be, of what we already are.
But tell me something, Blair.” I take a step closer, leaving no space between us.
“When we’re together, does it feel fake?
Forced? Like anything less than everything? ”
She doesn’t answer.
“Exactly,” I continue. “What we have isn’t some fling or some reckless thrill. It’s real. It’s messy, yeah, but it’s us. And I’d take messy with you over perfect with anyone else.”
She bites her lip, her walls visibly crumbling. “But what if it doesn’t work?” she whispers. “What if we just… ruin each other?”
“Then we ruin each other,” I say. “But at least we’ll know we tried.
At least we won’t spend the rest of our lives wondering what could’ve been.
” I take her hands in mine, pressing them to my chest. “You feel that?” I ask, my heartbeat thundering beneath her touch.
“That’s what you do to me, Blair. No one else has ever made me feel like this. And no one else ever will.”
Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. “Calvin…” she sighs as if warring with herself as she steps away from me, but I can’t let her end us, end me.
“Ask me again,” I say, voice low but shaking from the force of everything I’ve held back.
She frowns. “What?”
“The night of the ball,” I reply, stepping closer. “You asked me if I’d choose you. And I was too much of a fucking idiot to tell you the truth.”
Her arms fold protectively across her chest, like she’s trying to keep herself from cracking open. “Calvin…”
“Please,” I whisper, like it’s a prayer. “Blair, ask me.”
A beat. A breath.
Then, quietly, “Would you choose me?”
I take another step forward, and then another, until she’s right there. Close enough to feel her breath. Close enough to fall to my knees if I have to.
“Yes,” I say. “I would choose you.”
I cup her face, trembling.
“I’d choose you at that ball, and every day before it. I’d choose you in every version of my life, the broken ones, the ones where I’m still figuring out, the ones where I don’t even deserve you, I’d still find you. I’d still want you.”
She doesn’t move. But I see the way her lips part, just slightly. As if I’m making it hard for her to breathe.
“I’d choose you when it’s easy and when it’s hard.
When the world is against us, or when it’s just us in the quiet.
I’d choose you when I’m angry, when I’m stubborn, when I’m lost. I’d choose you when you’re crying on the kitchen floor or laughing in the sun.
I’d choose you in my next life, and the one after that, and the one after that. ”
I rest my forehead against hers.
“I’d choose you in the smallest ways, like making sure you eat, memorizing all of your favorite lines in Barbie.
Knowing when you need silence instead of words.
And in the biggest ways, like changing my whole damn life to be worthy of standing next to you.
Fighting for you. Standing in front of you if I have to.
Because I should’ve said this that night, Blair, but I see it now: you were never the question.
” I kiss her knuckles. “You’ve always been the answer. ”
She stares at me like I’ve just cracked open something she’s spent months trying to bury. Then she lets out a shaky breath, eyes glinting through the tears.
“Fuck, Cal,” she says hoarsely. “When did you become such a poet?”
I don’t hesitate.
“When I realized I’d lost my muse.”
Her breath catches.
My hand slides to her waist, fingers flexing slightly like I’m reminding myself she’s real. Here. With me.
She doesn’t pull away.
Instead, she tilts her head just enough for her hair to fall over her shoulder, and I can smell the familiar warmth of her skin. Her breathing’s uneven now and shallow
Her fingers brush against my chest, hesitant but lingering.
“Admit it,” I whisper, my voice dipping lower, darker. A promise and a dare all at once. “You missed me.”
Her lips part, but nothing comes out.
Her silence stretches between us, heavy with everything we haven’t said.
And then, finally, finally, she exhales a soft, resigned laugh, one hand fisting gently in my shirt like she’s trying not to fall but knows she already has.
“You drive me crazy,” she whispers, so quietly it barely exists.
I grin, leaning in just enough that she can feel the heat coming off my skin, just enough that if she moved half an inch, our mouths would touch.
“Good,” I breathe. “Because you drive me insane.”
She closes her eyes for a second, just one. When she opens them, she’s already gone for me, and we both know it.
“Tell me again,” she whispers. “Tell me you’d choose me.”
I press my forehead to hers again, every word I say stitched with a vow I’ll spend forever proving:
“I choose you. In this life, the next, and every dream I’ll ever dare to have in between.”
“I don’t want to get hurt again,” she says after a few seconds, steady though her eyes give away her vulnerability.
“And I want to make sure Abby and I are good before we can fully be together. So that means no sex. We started this mess with sex, and I want to make sure we do it right this time around.”
I should feel frustrated, maybe even disappointed, but instead, all I feel is pride. Pride in her for setting boundaries and for standing firm.
“I can respect that,” I say. Then, because I can’t help myself, I let my guard down just a little. “Can I kiss you now?”
Her expression softens, her lips twitching as if she’s trying not to smile. And when she nods, just a small movement, it feels like a victory.
Without wasting a second, I reach for her, cradling her face in my hands like it’s the most precious thing I’ve ever held.
The second our lips meet, it’s like the world stops spinning. Everything else fades, every worry, every doubt, every lingering fear. It’s just us. Her lips are soft, warm, and familiar, yet somehow even better than I remembered.
She melts into me, and when I feel her open up, giving me permission, it’s game over. My tongue slides into her mouth, claiming her, dominating her, and I can feel her surrendering in the way her body molds to mine. It’s everything I’ve missed and more.
When we finally pull apart, her lips are slightly swollen, her eyes wide with shock and desire.
“Still need more time?” I ask, teasing.
She exhales a shaky laugh, her hands curling into my shirt as she pulls me back toward her. “Shut up,” she says before kissing me again.