Page 69 of Orc'd At A Wedding
Three solid, deliberate strikes that rattle the frame.
I wait.
Footsteps approach from inside, light and quick.
The door swings open.
Bliss is standing there in an oversized sweatshirt that falls halfway down her thighs, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy knot, her face completely bare of makeup.
She is holding a spoon in one hand and a pint of ice cream in the other.
Our eyes lock.
Her eyes are red.
She has been crying.
My chest compresses in a way that has nothing to do with tactical analysis and everything to do with the fact that I am the reason she looks like this.
"Bliss—"
"No." She cuts me off, her voice flat. "Absolutely not. You don't get to show up here and?—"
"I was wrong."
She stops.
I take a breath and continue.
"I was wrong. I told myself I was protecting you, but I was protecting myself. I was afraid you would eventually realize that being with me came at a cost, and I would rather hurt you first than give you the chance to hurt me later. That was cowardice. I am sorry."
Bliss's grip tightens on the spoon.
"You can't just?—"
"I love you," I say. "I have loved you since you yelled at your aunt for implying you needed a man to validate your existence. I have loved you since you fell asleep on my chest during the thunderstorm. I have loved you every single second since I walked into that hotel lobby and saw you standing there, terrified and brave and willing to hire a complete stranger just to survive your family. I love you, and I will spend the rest of my life proving that I am capable of being the partner you deserve if you give me the chance."
Bliss observes me, her mouth slightly open, the spoon hanging limply in her hand.
"I—"
"You do not have to answer now," I say quickly. "I understand I have damaged your trust. I am willing to work to repair it. I am willing to be patient. I am willing to?—"
"Olog."
I stop.
She steps forward, sets the ice cream and spoon down on the narrow table by the door, and grabs the front of my suit jacket with both hands.
"Shut up," she says.
Then she pulls me down and kisses me.
CHAPTER 19
BLISS
The kiss is desperate and messy and tastes faintly like salted caramel ice cream, and I don't care.
