Total pages in book: 206
Estimated words: 207638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1038(@200wpm)___ 831(@250wpm)___ 692(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1038(@200wpm)___ 831(@250wpm)___ 692(@300wpm)
“I did.”
“So I don’t wanna break your heart anymore. I want to heal it. Like you did mine. I want to keep it. Safe and protected and warm because you get cold so easily. I want to make you sweaters that you wear. And I want to dance for you. So you don’t have to stalk me at the studio anymore. I want to make you cupcakes and I want to laugh. For you. I want to be for you, Roman. So you don’t have to look at me from a distance. So you don’t have to get angry when I fall if you’re not there to catch me. And…”
I take his hand off my face and without taking my eyes off him, I drag that hand down, the one that has a grease stain on the inside of his wrist. And still watching him, I rub that wrist on the side of my neck, painting my skin with dirt.
“And I don’t want you to stop touching me just because you think you’ll get me a little dirty.”
His eyes flare at the mark; his stomach contracts.
“I’m not afraid of a little dirt, Roman. I never was. Or falling. I’m not afraid of all that. You know why? Because I survived you. Because I survived the heartbreak you gave me and I kicked your ass. You survived it too. And I’m done, okay? I’m done hurting each other. All I’ve ever wanted, ever since I danced for you, was for you to love me. That’s all. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to keep me. I want you to keep me with you. Forever.”
“Forever.”
I nod. “Yes. Ask me why.”
He swallows. “Why?”
“Because I love you too, you idiot.”
He goes still, only his eyes are moving, going back and forth between mine. “You… you love me.”
God.
What am I going to do with him?
Why is he so… crazy and adorable and such a big, clueless idiot?
I dig my fingertips into his unforgiving jaw. “Yes, Roman. I love you. I’ve loved you for two years now, okay? I loved you when we were at Bardstown High and you were my sweet Roman. I loved you when you became a jerk and broke my heart that night and I stole your car. And I loved you for the two years after that even when I shouldn’t have. And I love you now. Every time I see you with Halo, I love you more. Every time I see how you love her, I fall in love with you more. Every time, Roman.”
“Holy fucking… Christ. I didn’t think… after everything. I didn’t…”
“I do, because I never stopped. Even though I’m very angry at you.”
“Angry.”
“Yes.” I sniffle. “Because you made me wait.”
He frowns. “Made you wait for what?”
“For this?” I purse my lips. “For telling me all this. And just so you know, I figured it out four weeks ago.”
“Figured out what?”
“That you’re in love with me.”
His eyes pierce into mine. “You figured it out.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
I go up on my tiptoes. “Because I’m smarter than you.”
Finally his lips twitch. “You are.”
“And because you told me that you had my sweater in the trunk of your car. You know who would do such a thing?”
“Who?”
“A guy in love. A guy who’s obsessed with me. You’re obsessed with me, Roman.”
Those twitching lips of his break into a lopsided smile, a smile that makes him look boyish. “I am.”
I move my hands and tug at his hair then. “And you never said anything. As usual. But it’s worse, isn’t it?”
His own hands move and his fingers go into my hair, burying themselves, and his body loses its rigid quality, sliding against me. “How is it worse?”
I shake my head at him, letting my anger show. “Because you’ve been obsessed with me for the past thirteen years. Since you saw me at that playground. And I don’t even remember that day.”
Not that my anger is making a dent on his amusement, no.
He’s all relaxed now, totally opposite of how he was only a few moments ago and yes, I want to be relaxed too that he told me. And I’ve been waiting for it.
But I’m not.
Because my anger is catching up to me.
“You don’t, huh?” he rasps, massaging my scalp.
I don’t let his magic fingers deter me though. “No. And now I want you to tell me every single detail about that day. Every single thing, Roman. The weather, the time. What were you wearing? And what I said to you and —”
“You said thank you,” he interrupts me, his small smile still in place, his fingers slowly working their magic on me. “Like a good girl. I dirtied your dress and you gave me your big blue eyes and said thank you.”
My breath hitches at the tenderness, the heat in his tone. “From now on, I want you to tell me everything. Everything. All your secrets and your fears and your desires. Your dreams. Everything.”