Page 28 of The Heiress Bride
Alex steps closer, and it’s like I’m seeing my best friend for the first time. Not the college kid I first met, but the man. Tall, dark, and so fucking handsome it hurts. All his doubts, triumphs, desires, and confusion twisted up in one sinful package.
“Alex—” I don’t recognize my voice. His name on my lips sounds more like a cartoon frog croaking.
Is he serious? I’ve watched and waited and daydreamed so long I can’t trust my own mind. Or my eyes.
He’s finally looking. Like he sees me. Allof me. His dark gaze traces the tie dangling from my neck, down one side, then up the other.
He takes another step, slowly closing the chasm between us.
“I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t understand what’s going on in my head, G, except that I’ve been so twisted up since you started falling for Katherine and King. You make it look easy, like you’re not afraid to get hurt. To risk everything.”
My head replays his words and lingers on ‘twisted up.’
“That’s not good.”
He shakes his head. “But it’s the truth. You know how messed up I was?—”
Alex doesn’t finish the sentence, and he doesn’t need to. I know exactly what he’s thinking for the first time in a while. Courtney.
“Yeah.”
He’s an arm’s length away. So close I could reach out and press my hand to his heart. But I don’t. Not yet.
I don’t know if I can survive if he changes his mind.
“It’s just—” His lips twist like he’s trying to find the words. “Scary. Like you said. We could mess this up.”
He waves a finger back and forthbetween us. My gut tightens, burns with desire, and at the same time, I’m sick from yearning for him every single day. Knowing it’s best to keep those feelings to myself.
Before I can second-guess myself, I clasp his wrist and press a hand to the center of his chest.
“We’re not going to mess it up. This is us. You and me. We’ll only mess it up if we keep hiding.”
He doesn’t look entirely convinced, but gives a single nod of agreement.
I squeeze his wrist. “It’s always been you, Alex. You’re my rock. My support. My... everything.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t. I’m—not—I can’t?—”
“No. We’re getting this out now. I’m done biting my tongue. Accepting 90%. I want it all, even if you don’t.” My hands shake and my eyes water. I’ve never felt such intense, raw desperation. Like I might hyperventilate if I can’t get the words out fast enough. Maybe that’s the problem. I’ve given him all the space and respect I can while I waste away.
He’s been happy to keep himself locked down tight. Protecting himself as he protected everyone else.
“It’s all the little moments,” I whisper. “Sharing sweet and sour pork after work. Sweating on the court first thing in the morning. Diving in the Maldives. Going home to your parents’ for Thanksgiving and your mom teaching me how to make pie. Ilove all of that. I love having you under my roof, where I can see you more and we don’t have to fight traffic to work out in the morning.”
He’s nodding, leaning into my touch. I know him well enough to understand that’s his way of saying ‘yeah, me too.’
That quiet admission gives me the push I need. Gut churning, I say, “I know this isn’t—normal. For you?—”
“What isn’t?”
“Giving voice to your feelings.”
He grunts but doesn’t correct me. We both know a refusal would be a lie.
“I love you, Alexander Hunt, and I’m sick of keeping that to myself.”
The confession tears from my chest, and I stare at him wild-eyed, looking for any hint that he feels even a quarter as deeply as I do. Praying to any deity that will listen. Excited and terrified at the same time.
