Page 133 of Always Love You More

Take it or leave it?

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He looks right at me, his face blank, devoid of any emotion. “Just what I said.”

This isn’t him. He’s put up the barrier his father taught him how to build.

“You’re doing it again.”

“What?” he barks. “I’m doing what?”

“Pushing me away,” I answer. “You’re trying to push me away.”

“Well, maybe you should listen this time,” he says, doubling down.

And that does it. His words tip me over the edge.

“Fuck you,” I spit.

“Yeah, sure,” he mutters. “Fuck me, ’cause this is all my fault, isn’t it?”

“You think it’s mine?”

“I warned you. I told you exactly what you’d get with me.”

My heart sinks. “I know, but …”

“But nothing,” he tells me, his voice flat. “You said if it got to be too much, you’d leave.” He shifts forward, his eyes locked on mine. “So leave.”

“I can’t!” I yell, the words slipping out on their own. “Don’t you get it? I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Because I fucking love you,” I confess. “I love you so much it hurts, and the idea of losing you—”

He grabs my face so fast I don’t even know what’s happening. Then he crashes his lips to mine.

My hands are already fisting his shirt, my movements frantic, trying to hold on to him, to get even closer.

He grips my hips, shifting me so I’m straddling his waist, our kiss never breaking. His hand moves to my hair, pulling my head back lightly. “You love me?” he questions, his eyes disbelieving as they search mine.

“Don’t you?” I ask. “Don’t you love me, too?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, answering without thought. “Yeah, more than anyone.”

Relief courses through me at his response, at how easily the words came. How much he sounds like he meant them. How much he sounds like himself.

“I can’t leave,” I tell him. “So, please don’t make me.”

“I don’t want you to.” He lets go of my hair and slides his hands down the back of my shirt, resting them on my hips. “But I don’t know if I can be who you need me to be. I can’t promise you that …” His hands flex against me. “I’m doing the best I can with what I have.”

“I know you are,” I whisper.

“I’m probably gonna go back to it, dealing at least.” When I lean away from him, he rambles on, “That’s as far as it’ll go, though. I’m not gonna get into anything more than that.”

“Just dealing?” I ask slowly, playing it out in my head.

He nods. “You gonna be okay with that?”