Page 114 of Faking It
“It feels like there’s a knife in your heart that’s twisting constantly.”
“Yes,” he murmurs.
“And all you want to do is eat three gallons of ice cream even when your stomach hurts all the time.”
“Something like that.” When he smiles this time it reaches his eyes for the first time. “Can you help me fix it, Harlow?”
He leans in and brushes his lips against mine as another tear falls.
This is where I belong.
Here.
With him.
God, how I missed him.
“It takes a lot of groveling to fix a broken heart.”
“I messed up, Harlow.”
“You did.”
“I let you walk away without a fight.”
“You did.”
“I won’t do it again.”
“Why should I believe you?” I ask, needing to hear the answer.
“Because being with you changed me,” he says and my heart swells in my chest. “Because all I’ve ever known, all I’ve ever allowed myself to see is the negative side of relationships. Then you walked in, gloves on, fists up, and you fought your way into my heart. I didn’t even know it happened and the next thing I knew you were gone, and I was left understanding those stupid fairytales you say your mom espouses for the first time in my life. I’m not a knight in shining armor, Harlow—far, far from it—but I know I can be the man you deserve. I know I will work hard to make you happy so I never have to feel this misery again.”
“You’re not the only one who was miserable.”
“No?” he asks.
“No.”
“Should I kiss it and make it better?” He steps in and kisses me so tenderly I want to melt into him. When he leans back, he lifts his eyebrows. “Better?”
“That’s a start.”
He laughs against my lips. “Be patient with me? This is all new to me. It’s uncharted territory that scares the hell out of me but being without you scares me ten times more. So I’ll make mistakes. I’ll mess up . . . but I’ll keep trying to wade my way through this so long as I know I get to have you as the reward on the other side.”
It’s my turn to kiss him. I snake my hands up the front of his chest, thread my fingers through his hair, and pour all of my pent up emotion into the kiss. Into showing him what it feels like to love and be loved.
When the kiss ends, he rests his forehead against mine and we stand like this for a few moments just absorbing the moment, each other, and the possibility that is now between us.
“Can I say it now?” I ask, needing to get it off my chest and out in the air.
“What’s that?”
“I’ve fallen in love with you, Zane Phillips.”
I can feel his body hitch at the words, his breath catch, and then his lips meet mine as he accepts the words that I know scare him.
“Harlow, I promise that—”
