Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
A pressure was on my chest, pressing down.
I clung to his wrist, the one he had cupped around the back of my neck as if he were anchoring me. As if I needed my own touch on him to keep me grounded. I didn’t want to slip away, but the implications of what he said, the thought if I’d been taken? I knew it was true. I remembered more than a few older men giving me looks that made my skin crawl, and then they’d be gone the next day, and I remembered being relieved. I felt safe.
Creighton did that too.
“Creighton,” I choked out, a tear falling from my eye. “No one cared about me before you came along.”
He cursed, dragging me to him, and he caught the tear, wiping it away. “What are you talking about?”
Another tear fell. And another. “What you did for me? The good and bad. I’m not worth it. I didn’t deserve it. I don’t deserve it. I—” My chest was there, caving in. Just so much pain. It was paralyzing. “I’m not worth this.”
“Blake.” My name came out hoarse, broken, from him.
I’d never heard that sound from him.
A new tenderness was there, as if he were seeing me for the first time. A new gentleness. A new warmth. He was Creighton, but he wasn’t. He was staring at me as if he loved me.
I asked, my throat hurting, “You’re looking at me like—”
I reached up to touch his face.
He caught my hand, squeezing. “I’m looking at you like I love you because I do.” His eyes flared, hot. “Of course I love you.” He let go of me, and his hand slid into my hair, fisting it. “I’ve not told you because you wouldn’t believe me. I’m not so black and white, Blake. There’s gray in me. I can feel emotions. I love you. I know I do. The problem is if you’ll accept that or not. Before this conversation, I don’t think you would’ve. It’s not just obsession. It’s love. I love you.”
My chest cracked under the pressure, except there was an opening there. Light streamed in. Rainbows. Warmth. That was love. I could feel it. Love in a place I didn’t think I ever deserved to feel before. I was feeling it now. I whispered, “I believe you.”
“Do you?”
I nodded, pressing my fingers to his wrist again, moving so I could feel his pulse. It was skyrocketing.
“I’m not worth this, though.”
He leaned close again. His other hand went to my hip. “You are what’s invisible to the eye. You give me a glimpse of what a normal person thinks and feels. You are that window for me. You are the bridge that helps me understand what makes someone love another person where they would give them the world if they asked. All just to make the other person smile. That’s what you give me. If that’s love, yes. I love you, Blake. When you entered my life, your soul was so big that it filled me as well. You share it with me. I’m just the selfish prick that takes it when I can.” He kissed me, long and slow and cherishing. “You are worth everything to me.”
Was I?
I didn’t think I was, but good came from Creighton’s destruction too.
I would remember that.
I had no words after that. He’d taken them from me, and left all these emotions in their place. Except four little ones.
My voice broke. “I love you too.”
Epilogue
Creighton
A month later
Blake was upstairs getting ready for this event. Since she’d been invited, she began talking more about how she hadn’t been able to experience the city. Hence, she now wanted to do the tourist experiences so she could say she’d done them. And I knew she was loving this “normal” way of life, so I had no problem doing my part for her, being the normal boyfriend.
That meant dates. Lots of dates.
We went to Broadway one night. Then we went to Ellis Island. Saw the Statue of Liberty another day. We took a trip to Times Square. Walked through Central Park. Passed through Canal Street. Chinatown. Little Italy. Toured the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Saw a show at Café Carlyle. Got cheese at Zabar’s. Did a culinary tour at the Chelsea Market.
I was tourist-ed out.
Blake was in heaven.
“Boss, my man.” Levi came over, thumping me on the arm before he poured himself a drink. “You ready for this?”
I eyed him, waited until he settled with his drink in hand before I reached up and tipped the drink out of his hands. It fell to the ground, and he glared at me. “Asshole.”
“I won’t repeat myself about you calling me Boss.”
“But you are my boss—” He’d begun to bend down to pick up his now-emptied glass when a burst of feminine laughter came from the top of the stairs. He paused for a second before grabbing the glass, or he would’ve.