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I kiss him. “I do have to thank you for being game to give Jay a revenge to remember.”
Gus chuckles. “You’re the first woman to thank me for attempting to ass-fuck her in front of her manipulative frenemy.”
“Frenemy? August, who taught you that word?”
“Read it in The Carraway,” he answers simply before he motions for me to come into his embrace.
He carries me back to the bed and places me on my preferred side before he weaves around to the other. He pulls me closer. When I’m in his arms, he smooths my hair and plants a kiss on the top of my head. Then his lips draw to my ear, where he nips my earlobe and says, “You good?”
He says it every time we have sex. Usually, he says it as a quick check to make sure we’re still on the same page. This time, it’s not about sex though. And emotions are such a funny thing because when he asks me that—when this stoic, icy man who the world universally recognizes as cruel and unfeeling asks me that—I realize I’m not okay.
I’m surprised when I start crying. Even as the tears rush out, I’m still in denial about what I’m doing. But the more I wipe my tears, the faster they come—and the tighter Gus holds me.
He doesn’t ask questions. He doesn’t try to unpack the layers of hurt that I don’t even understand yet. He simply holds me, his cheek resting on the top of my head while I remain tucked against his chest. My hands search for and caress his bare skin, begging him to stay with me. Not just here, not just now, but always.
“You’re so special to me,” he murmurs, speaking softly.
Another tear rolls down my cheek, but when I reach up to wipe it away, his thumb is already there.
“You’re so special to me,” he says again, a bit louder this time. “You’re also so goddamn smart, Julia. I love when you look around a room and clock all the details. I love listening to you ask a thousand questions and I love it when you learn something new and practically master it overnight.”
My tears have stopped and my heart is in my throat.
“And I love that you fear nobody, especially not me.” He breathes out. “And if you weren’t fearless, I wouldn’t have been able to share so much of myself for the first time.”
I move away from his chest so I can look at him. I know I must look horrible. My makeup is undoubtedly ruined from all the sweating and crying and showering. My eyes must be red. But when he sees my face, a small smile appears and he raises his hand to brush my hair back.
He gets it. He gets me. He knows I need to hear this, even if I feel it in my bones and with every fiber of my being. He wants to say it, even if it hurts him to knock down these demons.
He loves me.
“Julia…” he murmurs.
“Say it,” I whisper, knowing he needs my help.
Gus nods, but he remains silent.
“Say it,” I repeat, nodding my head too. “You know you want to say it. I want you to say it. So say it, August. Don’t be afraid.”
He still hesitates. He still stares at me with trepidation that I don’t resent because two decades ago, someone broke this man—this ridiculous, brilliant, (kind of an asshole, but still wonderful) man.
“I don’t stop moving,” I tell him, willing him to keep looking into my eyes. “I never have. Staying in one place makes my body tighten up. But when I’m with you, I don’t feel stuck.”
Gus continues to stare at me in silence.
“Part of it is wanderlust. But part of it was me running, wasn’t it? I was convinced that if I stayed in one place, I would realize how lonely I was, how desperately I wanted someone who could satisfy me but also see me as more than a pretty face and a good body.”
“A fucking unbelievable body,” he corrects, speaking for the first time in a while.
“Thank you, baby,” I say, putting a hand on his cheek. “We fucked and I ran because I was too afraid to stick around and get hurt. That first night in Montana, I realized you were different from the others. I wanted you because I knew this could be wonderful. It is wonderful. I don’t want to run anymore. You know you’re what I want, and I know you want me too. So say it.”
“Julia, there are things in my past…”
“I know.” I caress his cheek. “You had your heart broken. But if a woman hurting you motivated you to become a billionaire, imagine what you could do if you let a woman love you.”
He swallows and looks away. “One day, you’re going to leave me.”
“I won’t.”
