Page 22 of Say When
I look at the fire. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He closes the distance between us but doesn’t touch me. “Just talk to me. Please.”
I exhale. “The text from Mark hit every insecure place he spent years carving out. I let it in. I let it convince me that maybe he’s right. Maybe I’m too old for you. Maybe you’ll wake up one day and see it too.”
Jake’s jaw tightens. “He’s wrong.”
“I know.” I meet his eyes. “But knowing and believing are different things. I spent three days missing you so much I couldn’t breathe. I spent three days telling myself space was safer. I spent three days realizing I’m more afraid of true happiness than I am of being alone. I don’t want to feel that way.”
He steps close enough that I can feel his warmth through the night air. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I want to believe that.” My voice breaks. “I do believe it in my heart, but I’m scared, Jake. Scared of how much I already love you. Scared that if I say it out loud, the universe will find a way to take you away. Scared that I’ll ruin this because I don’t know how to hold onto something this good.”
He reaches for me slowly, carefully, giving me time to pull back. I don’t. His hands frame my face, thumbs brushing away tears I didn’t realize were falling.
“I love you too,” he says quietly. “I’ve loved you since you walked into my shop asking for sunscreen like you were afraid I’d bite. I love the way you laugh when you’re nervous. I love the way you dance barefoot like no one’s watching. I love the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. I love all of you, the messy parts, the scared parts, and the parts you think are too much. I’m not asking you to be perfect. I’m asking you to let me love you exactly as you are. Right now. Today. Tomorrow. Forever.”
Fresh tears spill. “I don’t deserve you.”
“You do.” He pulls me against his chest, arms wrapping around me like they were made to hold me. “We deserve this. Whatever it looks like. Whatever it takes.”
I bury my face in his hoodie, breathing him in. “I’m still scared.”
“I know.” He kisses the top of my head. “But you’re not alone in it anymore.”
We stand like that for a long time, wrapped together, fire crackling at our backs, waves whispering against the shore. The rain has stopped, and stars prick through the clouds one by one.
When I finally pull back, he cups my face again, thumbs stroking my wet cheeks.
“Stay with me tonight?” he asks softly. “No pressure. Just sleeping, talking, or whatever you need.”
I nod. “Yes.”
He smiles. It’s small, relieved, heartbreakingly tender. “Good.”
We sit together on the blanket. Jake pulls me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me. We talk, our words quiet, honest, unhurried.
He kisses me slowly, deeply, full of promise. No rush. No demand. Just love poured into every brush of lips, every slide of tongue, every soft sigh.
We stay by the fire until the flames burn low. Then he stands and offers his hand.
We walk back to his truck hand in hand. The drive is quiet and comfortable. His fingers lace through mine on the console. When we reach his apartment above the shop, he leads me inside without turning on the lights. Moonlight spills through the windows, silvering everything.
We undress each other slowly. We’re not in any hurry. He kisses every inch of skin he uncovers, murmuring words of love against my skin. He tells me I’m beautiful, perfect, and his.
I trace the lines of his body with shaking fingers, memorizing him the way he memorizes me.
We fall into bed wrapped in each other. He moves inside me slow and deep, eyes locked on mine, whispering how much he loves me, how much he wants me, how much he needs me. I come apart under him with his name on my lips, tears in my eyes, and my heart wide open.
Afterward, he holds me against his chest, heartbeat steady under my cheek.
“I love you,” he whispers into my hair.
“I love you too,” I answer.
I feel worthy of his love now and can’t wait to spend our future making sure he knows just how much I love him.
EPILOGUE
