Page 151 of Rush
I step closer and touch his face. "You okay?"
"Yeah. I just thought maybe he came to convince you to leave me."
"He didn't. He came to make sure I'm okay and to actually listen to me for once."
"And are you—okay?"
"Yeah, I am. Are you?"
He pulls me close and buries his face in my hair. "I am now."
We stand there holding each other and I feel the tension slowly drain from his body.
"I was scared," he admits quietly.
"Of what?"
"That your dad would convince you I'm not worth it."
"Rush, my dad can't convince me of anything I don't already believe."
"And what do you believe?"
"That you're worth fighting for, that we're worth fighting for."
He pulls back and looks at me. His eyes are dark and intense.
"I love you," he says.
"I love you too."
He kisses me and it's slow and deep. His hands slide into my hair.
I make a sound against his mouth and his grip tightens.
When he pulls back we're both breathing hard.
"Stay tonight," I say.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I need you here."
"Okay."
He kisses me again and this time it's hungrier, more desperate.
I pull at his cut and he shrugs it off, lets it fall to the floor.
Then his hands are on my shirt, pulling it over my head.
I do the same with his, then run my hands over his chest and the ink on his skin.
"Bedroom," I say against his mouth.
"Yeah."
We stumble down the hall, hands everywhere, mouths fused together.
