“I wasn’t enough for him.” I can barely get the words out. They’re slicing up my throat as I say them.
He shifts under me, moving so we face each other, hands framing my jaw while he wears the most urgent, earnest, furious expression. He tilts me up so he can look into my eyes.
“He’s wrong, Hartley.” Our eyes hold, emotion flickering in his gaze. “He’s so fucking wrong.”
My heart beats hard in my chest. I want to believe him. When we’re sitting here, wrapped up in each other like nothing else exists, I want to believe he’ll never grow sick of me or discard me.
I think I’d just die if that happened.
What have I gotten myself into? Panic spikes as I stare up into Rory’s eyes. There’s no way to extract myself from this without getting hurt.
“He’s wrong.” Rory looks down at me like I have to believe him. “He was never good enough for you, and he knew it. You’re perfect, Hartley.”
Something drums inside me, urgent, insistent, desperate to get out. This is agonizing, keeping the feelings inside like this.
“It’s not fake anymore,” I whisper. “Is it?”
Rory shakes his head. “No, Hartley. It isn’t.” His gaze moves over my face like he’s trying to take in every detail about me, and he swallows like he’s nervous. “It hasn’t been fake for me for a long time.”
There isn’t enough air in the room, and I can’t look away.
Connor said I wasn’t enough, but maybe he’s wrong. Rory sure looks at me like I’m enough. I want this, whatever we’re doing. I want all of this.
“Can I tell you something?” he asks, tucking my hair behind my ear.
My pulse trips at his earnest and nervous expression, but I nod, biting my lip.
He searches my eyes, sucking in a breath. “I love you.”
The world stops, fading away, and it’s just me and Rory.
“What?” I suck a shaky breath in, like I’m scared, but I’m not.
“I love you.” The long column of his throat works as he watches me, hand slipping back into my hair.
Two months ago, this would have been the last thing I wanted to hear. Now, I want to hear Rory say those words a thousand times.
“Don’t look so surprised, Hartley.” His smile is gentle and crooked. “How could I not fall for you? It was always only a matter of time.”
My lips part, but I’m speechless. The girl from years ago who had her heart smashed can’t believe how insanely lucky I am to have found Rory. And at the same time, I’m terrified it won’t last.
“You don’t need to say anything.” He laughs quietly at my silence. “I know you’ll say it back eventually.”
He says it like he knows. He says it like he can see right through me, like he believes I’ll catch up.
A glow expands through me. “So cocky,” I murmur.
I’ve been avoiding the emotion, turning away from it, but I can’t ignore it anymore.
I’m head over heels in love with Rory Miller. I’ve never said the words to a guy. With Connor, I always sensed they’d be unwelcome, so I kept them to myself.
That was a watered-down version of love, though, and Rory’s nothing like Connor.
He’s hurt someone before, an ugly voice whispers in my head. He didn’t mean to, but he was careless with Ashley and broke her heart.
He could do the same to me, even if he does love me. Even if I love him back and we’re wildly happy together. People fall out of love all the time.
My mind goes to yesterday, when Rory said that Jamie was like his brother. They’ll be in each other’s lives forever, which means Rory will be in my life forever.
That would break me, if it didn’t work out after I gave him everything and then had to see him all the time.
“It’s okay,” he says again, running a hand over my hair, and I see that he understands. He smiles like he can read my thoughts. It’s just another reason my heart pounds for him—because he’s endlessly patient and gentle. Because he knows I’m broken and trying to put myself back together for him.
“I’ll wait,” he says.
Oh god. Yeah. I really do love him. I think I might have loved him for a while. Longer than I’m ready to admit. I tried so hard not to but I think that might have been the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, trying not to fall for him.
I move to straddle him, our eyes locked the entire time. His hands settle on my waist, and I bring my mouth to his.
“How’s your ankle?” he asks quietly.
“I don’t care about my ankle right now.”
Rory nods, eyelids falling halfway, and his throat works. He’s probably going to say something about me resting it anyway, but instead, I kiss him.
CHAPTER 66
HAZEL
While we kiss, Rory lifts me up and carries me to his bedroom, gently setting me down on the bed before kneeling on the floor in front of me. The air buzzes with electricity as his mouth moves over mine, pulling apart for a second at a time to remove each other’s clothes, until finally, I’m sitting on the bed in a lavender bra and matching thong.
“I really needed you today,” he whispers, throat working, and the look in his eyes is so heartbreakingly vulnerable that emotion pulses through me.
I know this. When it comes to his mom, he’s lost, and I just want to hold his hand and make sure he’s okay.
God, I want to be that person for him. So badly.
“Say those words again,” I whisper. “From earlier.”
He smiles, holding my face while he presses a kiss to my lips. “I love you.”
I sigh, practically floating, and he climbs over me on the bed. Like every time we kiss, I forget everything else except the feel of his mouth, his hand slipping into the back of my hair, his knee nudging between mine. He settles between my legs, and the impressive length of his cock pressing against my clit sends sparks racing through me. My lips part and his tongue slips between them, and when I suck on it lightly, Rory’s breath catches, and a low, pleasured noise comes from deep in his chest.
“Jesus,” he murmurs before stroking back into my mouth, tasting me. I arch against him because something in that one word tells me exactly how much he needs me, how he might lose his mind if he can’t have more. His hips tilt against me, fingers tightening in my hair, and shivers of delight and arousal dance down my spine. “I could come from just this, Hartley, I swear.”
An aching throb starts low in my stomach, and I must make a noise of protest or need or both because he lets out a low chuckle that I want to lick off his smiling mouth.
“But I won’t.” Another slow, lazy kiss. My panties are damp. “And not before you get what you need.”
Our kiss moves from slow and thoughtful to fast and urgent.
“Every time I jerk off, I think about the way your pussy tastes. I never fucking last, thinking about that.”