He takes my hand in his free one and brings my wrist to his lips. He places an open-mouth kiss on the skin there, then blows air, his eyes fixed on mine.
“Have I told you how brave I think you are, Snowflake? You’d have scars on your face and I wouldn’t even notice. Being strong doesn’t necessarily mean doing things so the world can see how brave you are and applaud. It’s how you win the battle that matters. That is what makes you strong.”
I swallow hard. I try to find the words to express what his words mean to me, but fail miserably.
“Thank you,” I say, smiling.
“Thank you for the silver lining.”
I laugh, unable to keep the joy inside me anymore. His smile is slow to appear but when it finally does, it’s powerful and sexy.
“Are we good?”
“Yeah, we’re good.”
He takes my hand and leads me back to our lounge chair, takes a seat and pulls me down. He cups a hand on my cheek, while rubbing the other one down my arm. I love his hands. They are big and the skin on the palms is rough, likely from the hard labor he does at his father’s construction company. But the way he’s holding my face in his palms, I can’t believe they’re the same hands that hold sharp and heavy tools like nails, saws and hammers.
His finger traces a path along my nose, my shoulders and finally my forearms. “Everything. I. . .see. . .everything. You are breathtaking.”
I can’t breathe. Cole reached inside me and stole the air from my lungs and now I’m drowning, while at the same time basking in his words. For a guy who never says much, he managed to rock me off my axis with just seven words.
“Cole. . .” I can’t find the words to express what I’m feeling. How much his words affect me. “Thank you.”
I throw one leg over his, sitting astride his lap, and wiggling until I feel his erection snuggled between my legs. He groans, grabs my shoulder and crushes his lips to mine. His tongue urges my lips to part impatiently and I’d be stupid to refuse him because the same fire that’s burning inside him is setting my body ablaze.
He lets go of me and slightly leans back, the look on his face fierce. He points at himself, crosses his arms over his chest and then points at me. I know what the sign means, because I’ve spent the past few weeks practicing over and over. He repeats the same gesture, his mouth tipped at the corners in that almost smile now. “I love you.”
Air whooshes out of my lungs. My heart flips inside my chest, as I take in the honest to God emotions shining in his eyes. The eyes that seem to see my fears, chaos and insecurities and the girl who just wants to be loved. To be told that she is beautiful. A little crazy sometimes. Sitting here on his lap, I feel like a princess. Cole has just stripped away my proverbial tattered clothes, dressed me in a beautiful gown and put a crown on my head.
I’m Cinderella and I don’t need anything else in the world. Just him and me.
What started as curiosity on my part has grown into something huge. Love. Sometimes it’s so overwhelming it scares me. I’ve wanted to tell him how I feel for a while now. What I feel for him.
But then doubts swoop in. Feeling like this, having someone who pays attention to me like Cole does is unreal. It’s like living in a dream. My wildest fantasy. An illusion. I’m terrified I’ll wake up and it will all be gone. My heart is too invested in Cole. So I’ve kept my mouth shut and just reveled in it.
“Nor?”
I snap out of my thoughts, and offer him a shaky smile. For a moment, the confidence I’ve built up over the past few years wavers and I start babbling, “I’m a mess sometimes. I live inside my head too much. I. . .I—” I pause to gather my thoughts. “I don’t care. I’ve been falling for you since that first night on the roof. I can’t explain it, but it happened.”
I realize that his confession changes everything. He needs to know the truth. My truth. “Being in love with me is a risk.” I tell him.
He grasps my chin with his fingers and urges me to look at him. “I. Don’t. Care. I’m in love with you and all the little quirks that make up who you are. Your chaotic mind, your insecurities, your big heart. You think you’re not perfect but you are perfection to me.”
He narrows his eyes at me and drops his hands from my chin running his long fingers through his tousled hair. “Everyone has scars, whether they’re on the surface of our bodies or on the inside, hidden in our souls. We’ve just gotten good at hiding them. Give me a chance to love you. All of you. I want those parts you’ve hidden so deep inside you. . .those parts you think are unworthy of me loving. I want those. I crave them. I can’t promise to fix you but I promise to be there when you need me. I just want to be there to hold you when you cry.”
Tears roll down my face. He tucks me against him and wraps his hands around me so tight, I feel everything in me piece together.