Chapter 34 #2
“Maybe we don’t,” I say with a sigh. Maybe I made a mistake coming here tonight, but then I remind myself that I want him to know how I feel, even if he doesn’t feel the same way. “I’m into you,” I say.
I expect him to make a joke or tease me, but he just keeps staring at me like I’ve turned him to stone.
“I’ve gotten to know you, and I want more,” I continue.
“More of you. More of being with you. I thought there was no chance at all that staying in your apartment for a week would lead to me falling in love with you…but…here we are.” I swallow.
It’s the first time I’ve told him how I feel, but it’s also the first time I’ve said the L word to any man outside my family.
It’s the first time I’ve admitted, even to myself, that I love Ben East. As soon as I say the words, it’s like they slot into gaps in my heart I didn’t know I had.
Gaps I’ve always had and have been waiting to fill. It feels good. I feel complete.
I love him.
It’s as simple as that.
Then I focus on him. He’s still not saying anything.
My face begins to burn with heat and my entire body clenches with fear. Not because I’m in love with him, but because I don’t know how he feels. I didn’t come here to share a bottle of wine and talk about the good times.
Maybe I need to be clearer with him.
“I’m in love with you,” I say in case he missed it.
His eyes flicker, like he’s rebooting, and he goes to say something else but stops himself.
“What were you going to say?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he replies and it’s like a sucker punch to my gut.
Nothing? I told him I’m in love with him and he wasn’t going to say anything?
He was definitely going to say something. Maybe it was something he didn’t think I’d want to hear. But I need to hear what he’s thinking, even if it will break me.
“You’re a liar, liar, pants on fire,” I reply.
He lets out a half laugh. “When you told me that you weren’t going to go through with the Boston deal, I was going to say that I’d miss you.” His words are like a ribbon of hope that lift my spirits.
“You’d miss me?” I ask.
“Because there would be no reason to see each other,” he clarifies.
“Right,” I say. “Unless we wanted to.”
He pulls his eyebrows together like he’s concentrating, turning thoughts over and over in his mind. “I think maybe I fell in love with you, too, during our week together.” He says it almost like he’s talking to himself. As if he’s in an empty room.
It’s so quiet, but so very loud. And it’s the only thing I ever want to hear for as long as I live.
My heart stops beating.
I’m dead.
“What?” I ask, wondering if I’ve misheard him because he’s being so nonchalant.
“I know it’s a stupid thing to even think, let alone say, but it’s true,” he says.
My heart starts to beat again, and I’m about to reply with I don’t know what, when he adds, “It was a stealth attack—Middle of the night, secret-ops mission.”
“You’ve lost me,” I say, completely confused.
“It’s taken me ages to figure out how it happened. No one’s ever gotten close enough to me for me to fall in love with them. But you managed it.” He holds my gaze.
“You fell in love with me?” I whisper, barely able to get the words out, but wanting to hear it again. Is it possible that he feels the same way about me as I feel about him?
He nods his head. “And I wasn’t expecting it. I wasn’t ready. My shields were down. I thought you’d be just another girl. You were anything but. You’re the girl.”
“The girl?” I ask, barely able to keep up with what he’s saying.
“The girl. The one that knocked me on my arse. The one that came out of nowhere. The one I’ll never get over.”
Hope rises in my chest, and I long to reach for him, but something stops me. “Do you have to get over me?”
He smiles. “I don’t think I ever will.”
This conversation isn’t going how I expected. It’s not even going how I could have possibly imagined it. “You’re not making a whole lot of sense. You’re talking like I died. But I’m right here. And I just told you that I’m in love with you too.”
Instead of joy on his face, he has a look on his face like I told him I just crashed his favorite car.
“What?” I ask.
“You can’t love me,” he says, shaking his head.
“You just told me you love me. But I’m not allowed to say it?” I reach for the bottle. I either need to have not had the first glass or I’m going to need a second bottle. I’m totally confused.
“You deserve someone who isn’t…me,” he says.
My heart turns inside out, and I want to slide onto his lap and wrap my arms around him. What is he talking about?
“So you’re saying you love me but you’re not going to do anything about it because I deserve better?” I just want to make sure I’m following this train of thought out of the station.
“Yes. It’s difficult. I didn’t expect you were going to have feelings—”
“I love you,” I say, interrupting him, frustration swelling in me.
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I never meant for this to get so…messy.”
“But here we are,” I say. “You love me, and I love you.”