Page 90 of If You Were Mine (After We Fall 3)
“You disappeared awfully quickly after the cake was cut.” Jaime raised her eyebrows and picked up her drink.
“I said goodbye, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but you were already halfway out the door.” She smiled knowingly. “How was the rest of your night?”
“Good.” My breath caught at the memory of that night—the drive home, the stairs, my bedroom.
And what I’d said.
He hadn’t said it back yet, and I was OK with that. I understood it would probably take some time for him to be comfortable with the words, especially since I was the first person to say them to him. I knew I had to be patient. But something had felt a little off with him ever since that night. It was nothing I could put my finger on—he just felt a little distant. Maybe Jaime would have some advice.
“I told Theo I loved him that night.”
Her eyes widened. “You did?”
I nodded, focusing on the wine in my glass. “But I’m thinking it may have been a mistake.”
“Why? He didn’t say it back?”
“No. He didn’t. But it’s not that so much. I sort of knew he might not be ready to say it back. I was prepared for that.”
“Did he say anything?”
“Yes. He told me I was the first person to say those words to him.”
“Whoa. That’s fucked up.” She narrowed her eyes. “How’s that even possible?”
I sighed. “I haven’t gone into Theo’s background much, but he had a really tough childhood. Mom left when he was one. Dad was abusive. He took off too eventually, about the time Theo was eight.”
She blinked. “Holy shit. That’s a lot of baggage. He seems so well-adjusted and happy-go-lucky.”
“He’s a good actor,” I said sadly. “Anyway, I don’t think emotional attachment comes easily for him.”
“How could it?” She shook her head. “Poor guy.”
“So I get that saying ‘I love you’ might not come naturally to him.”
“Love might not come naturally to him,” Jaime pointed out. “He might not even recognize it in himself. But Claire, the guy is crazy about you.”
My lips turned up a little. “You think so?”
“Yes. It’s totally obvious. You should see the way he looks at you.” She imitated a cartoonish lovestruck stare, sighing heavily and propping her chin in her hand.
I laughed. “He does not look like that.”
She sat up again. “Yes, he does. So don’t let it bother you that he’s not all verbal about it.” She shrugged. “Some people aren’t.”
I toyed with the stem of my wine glass. “He just seems quieter than usual this week. A little removed. It’s giving me a weird vibe.”
“I bet you’re imagining it because of what you said. You’re worried you’re not on the same page, so you’re looking for things to confirm your fear.”
“Am I?” I bit my lip. It was possible she was right.
“I think so. Are you still having sex?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“And he still stays over?”
