Page 134 of Wrong For Me

Apparently, Rose’s bubbly, excitable cousin has a tough side.

So no help came from Everly. Or from anyone else we tried, including Will at first, though Everly’s little sister Santana did mention that Rose was no longer in LA. We tried to camp out in front of her apartment, but Will never came home, even though I stayed there all night. The next day I went to his tattoo shop and refused to leave until he gave me five minutes.

Will is a big guy. A big guy with a bunch of tattoos and a pretty intimidating beard. He told me I had thirty seconds to get lost before he kicked my ass. I told him he could go ahead and punch me, so long as he let me talk after. That, apparently, convinced him to hear me out.

“I could see that,” Rose says, drawing me from my thoughts. I’ve barely slept for the last two nights and I’m running mostly on adrenaline. My brain is a jumbled mess. “But,” she continues, “I don’t understand why.”

My heart sinks as she seems to confirm my worst fears. She blames me for this.

“I went to Will’s shop and convinced him that I just wanted to talk to you,” I explain. “He agreed to help me find you.”

She cocks her head. “And the blindfold?”

I shift on the ground. Maybe that had been a stupid idea, like Will said. But it seemed meaningful at the time. A gesture. Jesus, am I totally fooling myself here? She’s probably going to send me away no matter what I do.

You need to stop beating yourself up all the time, Bodhi’s voice echoes in my head, and I straighten. I got this far. I’m going to have my say.

“You didn’t invite me, Rose. I know what this place means to you—it’s your refuge. I don’t ever want you to feel unsafe here. I needed you to know that I could never find my way back—unless you asked me.”

She swallows a few times, eyes blinking rapidly, but doesn’t say anything. The frustration of not knowing what she’s thinking is killing me. She looks so beautiful sitting here under the canopy of pine trees in her faded jeans and a flannel shirt, hair wild around her shoulders, water gently rushing behind her. My free-spirited, bohemian girl.

“I didn’t do it, Rose,” I whisper. “I swear to God. I’ve never talked to a reporter about you. I wouldn’t. Icouldn’t. There’s not enough money in the world to get me to hurt you like that.”

“I know.”

“It must have been someone in the bar,” I continue, completely babbling now, desperate to make her believe me. “Someone must have overheard us that night. You can have your dad’s lawyers hire a private investigator and they can dig as hard as they want into my life. I’ll show you all my bank accounts—hell, I’ll give you my social security number. That’s probably enough for them to verify I haven’t received any payments.”

“Leo—”

“I love you, Rose. I never thought I could deserve someone like you, but I’m done thinking like that. I’m going to fight for you. I’m going to prove to you that I didn’t—”

“Leo, Iknow,” she says loudly. Even then, it isn’t until she cups my jaw with her sweet, soft little hand that I stop talking and hear her.

“You know?”

She smiles and my heart practically leaves my chest. “I know. I know you didn’t do that to me. I know you wouldn’t.” Her eyes are shining. “I didn’t know you love me, though, so you could say that part again if you want.”

I stare at her. “Are you teasing me? Right now?”

She shrugs. “We’ve been teasing each other since the very beginning. Why stop now?” Then she leans forward, still cupping my jaw, and kisses me.

My head is spinning. It doesn’t feel real. Sitting here with her in a place so beautiful it could be the setting of one of her fairy stories, her lips moving against mine, her hand warm and steady on my face—none of it feels real.

Then she shifts, deepening the kiss, and my brain finally wakes up. Rose believes me, and she’s kissing me, and I’m just sitting here like an idiot. I grab her so fast she yelps into my mouth. I pull her to my lap so I can wrap my arms around her. I can’t get close enough, even with our legs tangled and our bodies pressed together.

“You believe me?” I ask when we finally pull back to breathe.

Her eyes are soft and wet. “I do. I think I always knew it.” She swallows, pain flashing across her eyes, and I have to pull her even closer, hating to see her hurt. “Honestly, I think I went into survival mode when I saw the story. I couldn’t let myself really even think about it. All I knew was I had to get out of there. So River brought me here.”

“And your parents?”

She lets out a shaky exhale, her breath warm on my skin with our faces only inches away. “They were in New York. They got here this morning.” Her blue eyes search mine. “We talked a lot. It was…good. I’m going to try not to hide things to protect them, and my dad is going to try not to hide things to protect me.”

“That sounds like a good plan.”

I hold her for a moment, just breathing her in, so thankful that I can still touch her, that she’s here with me.

Then she looks up at me, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Can we get back to that part where you said you loved me?”