Page 113 of Faking It
“I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Zane’s smile cocks up at one corner, and I can’t for the life of me figure why this is amusing to him.
“I don’t think it’s wise.”
“You’re going to be living with me so why wouldn’t you be able to travel with me too?”
“Because I . . . what did you just say?” I stare at him, my eyes blinking several times as if it will make me believe what I think I just heard him say.
I fight back the hope that threatens to grow.
“I said you’re not making any sense. Since we’ll be living together, what’s the big deal if we travel together.” He folds his arms across his chest and digs in.
“Who said I’m moving in with you?”
“I did.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because it’s been almost two damn weeks since you left, Harlow and I can’t sleep for shit.”
“I’m sure many women would be willing to wake up next to you.”
“Because every time I get my coffee, I wait for you to make fun of me for making it too weak.”
“Sounds like your own problem.”
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”
I don’t have a comeback for that one other than a cautious smile that says I want to believe but am too hurt to hope.
“That’s your own doing,” I whisper.
“It is.” He nods. “I’ve been miserable without you, Harlow.”
I don’t trust myself to speak because as good as it feels to know that he’s been suffering like I have, it doesn’t change his views on love.
“Good.”
“Good?” he chuckles, and I nod as tears I don’t want to show well in my eyes. “I missed you. Everything about you. I haven’t slept, I’ve been an asshole to everyone, I . . . Christ,”—he scrubs a hand over his jaw—“SoulM8 is taking off through the roof—I should be the happiest guy on the planet and yet the only thing I can think about is you and how badly I screwed up.”
“Okay.” I draw the word out because I’m trying to stay true to my promise that I deserve more and with each word he speaks, it makes it that much harder to not rise from the chair and kiss him senseless.
“I’m screwing this up, aren’t I?” He laughs and draws in a breath as I shake my head and wipe away the first escaped tear. “Please don’t cry.”
“Zane . . .”
“I told you love was bullshit but you know what? Right now I think it feels like complete misery. Like I have the stomach flu and am having a heart attack at the same time because that’s how I feel without you. So you see, I need you back. I need you to love me so you can show me what it is. So you can prove to me that it’s this wonderful thing that everyone says it is because right now it just feels like shit.”
“That’s because you’re experiencing heartbreak,” I murmur.
“Is that what this is?”
I rise from my seat and nod my head. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”
“God, yes.” He smiles and reaches out to frame my face in his hands, and hi
s touch. . . oh, how I missed his touch. And his smile. And his laugh. And everything about him.
