Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“You didn't do anything wrong,” I cut him off. “I did. I got so scared. I closed off because I didn't want my parents to keep using you like they did. Using me to get to you. The last thing I ever wanted was to drag you down or ruin a night that was so special to you. It wasn't fair to you, but I shouldn't have left like that. I should have stayed and talked to you—”
“We both should’ve done a lot of things,” Crossland said. “But now we know. We have to talk these things out. We can't assume what each other is thinking. So, I need you to know that I don't give a shit about your parents and their hopes to squeeze me for more money. I have people who can handle situations like that, but what I can't have is you trying to distance yourself to protect me. If that's what you're trying to do.”
“I thought you’d be better off,” I admitted, tears stinging the backs of my eyes.
Crossland cupped my face, shaking his head. “The only way I'm better off is with you,” he said. “However that life looks, I don't care, as long as you're in it.”
I took a deep breath, shuddering slightly as he wiped the tears off my cheeks with his thumbs. “Bangor, Maine?”
He grinned. “I can buy a coffee shop,” he said. “If you want to be a barista. Or we can build that bookshop bar you've always wanted. Or if you want to do nothing but self-care for the next decade, I don't care. I just want you with me. I want you to live with me, not because of any contract between us, but because you want to. And if you don't, I'll understand. I'll find a way to make sure I'll leave you alone—”
“Crossland, these last two weeks have been hell,” I admitted. “The last thing I expected was to fall in love with the billionaire who hired me to be his girlfriend, but I did. I fell in love with your playfulness, your heart, your ability to take care of those that you love. I don't want to spend another second where I'm not yours.”
Crossland's eyes guttered and he captured my mouth, kissing the breath from my lungs.
I pulled away, concern still lingering in my soul. “But what about my parents? Even if we move, they'll figure it out. They'll try—”
“You don't need to worry about them anymore,” he said. “You don't need to waste one more second of your energy worrying about them. It's time to let someone help you for a change, and in this, I assure you, they will not bother you again.”
A deep sigh of relief slipped from my lips, and I leaned my forehead against his. “I've never lived away from Brecken.”
“If you're not ready,” he said. “Then we’ll wait. We’ll wait until you are. Bangor isn't going anywhere.”
“You’d do that for me?” I asked, my heart expanding in my chest, his words knitting together every break that had been there before.
“I would do anything for you.”
My smile hurt, it was so wide. “I love you,” I said, and it was so freeing to finally say those words. “And I’m ready. I would love to move to Bangor with you.”
“Really?” he asked, his eyes hopeful. “No contract required?” he teased.
I shook my head. “No contract required. I just want you.”
Crossland kissed me again. “You have me.”
Epilogue
ASPEN
Icouldn't help but smile as I looked around the quaint restaurant, all lit up with golden twinkle lights and red and pink hearts decorating the walls for Valentine's Day.
“You know, for someone who swears he's not romantic, tonight has been epic,” I said.
Crossland smiled at me from across the small table we sat at before he shook his head. “I think I'm done claiming I'm not romantic,” he said, holding up his champagne flute to me. “It comes naturally with you.”
I clinked my glass against his before we both took a sip, the waiter clearing our plates before we ordered dessert.
It’d been two months since we moved to Bangor, and we’d fallen into this effortlessly wonderful domestic rhythm that I couldn't help but thrive in.
We were still drawing up plans for my dream coffee-bar-bookshop, and simply enjoying every single second we could together. It’d taken me a hot minute to adjust to not being so close to my sister, but we talked every day, and it helped to know that she was safe and doing what she wanted to do at NYU.
It also helped that it was only a six hour drive when I got to missing her just a little too much. Which had already happened. We’d driven out last week—not wanting to use the jet more than necessary—or a quick visit to see her and catch up with Jesse and the girls.