Page 83 of Fight

He laughed low, the sound curling around my spine. “You’ve accused me of flattery, but now it’s you who flatters me. No, I didn’t see a way to do good. I saw a way to impress my boss.”

I tilted my head and looked at him skeptically. “How did my debt give you a chance to impress your boss?”

“It was my debt, P. The second I stood, your debt became mine. I never wanted anything from you for it, would never take anything from you,” he said.

“And did you? Impress your boss, I mean?” I asked, his words, the depth with which I believed them making it impossible for me to talk about it.

“Eventually I was able to win his favor. But I got something even more important.”

His eyes deepened, and I knew what he was going to say, was desperate to hear him say it.

“What did you get?” I asked, whispering.

“You,” he said.

Then he pressed his lips against mine and kissed me in the way that only he ever had and that only he ever would. I fell into him and into his kiss, my fingers wrapped in his shirt, my body pressed as close to his as I could get. From all the pain and sadness had come this joy, the love for this man. I kissed him harder, wondered how I had ever lived without him.

I broke away and looked into his eyes, deciding in that moment that I never would.

“I love you,” I said. “And I’m never letting you go.”

He laughed, kissed me, and then whispered against my lips, “Whatever you say, jefe.”