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Our eyes met. I knew I was blinking like crazy. My heart begged me to open up, to take a chance, to dive into the deep end and try to swim, but my brain reminded me my one and only “relationship” had ended in emotional carnage I still hadn’t recovered from.
“But now?” His pupils burned with darkness and determination. “Now I know what it’s like to have you. And I never want to fall asleep because, as it turns out, my reality is better than anything a dream could ever conjure. Who are we kidding with this casual bullshit?” Row asked, brushing his knuckles along my temple softly. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry, Dot. Loving you from up close is so much crueler than loving you from afar. It reminds me of all the things I’ll miss out on. All the shit that can’t be mine. Because the thing is…” He wet his lips. “You feel mine.”
“Am I your girl?”
“No.” He shook his head. “You’re my everything.”
Everything. The word was so final.
Panic skated through me. Not because I didn’t feel the same way, but because I did. I wanted to be with him too, consequences be damned. But if Franco had managed to break me so thoroughly with something that was puppy love at the time…what kind of wreckage would Row leave in his wake?
“We still have time to discuss this.” I tried to sound chirpy and bright, patting his thigh awkwardly. “Why don’t we—”
“Don’t do this,” he cut me off.
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t run away from us. I’m telling you something important. I’m in love with you.”
My stomach dipped like I had fallen off a cliff. And then I just kept on falling because the implications of that statement were going to be my ruin. “Again?”
“Still,” he said bitterly. “Forever and always. I never stopped, and I’m tired of trying to hate you. To look for flaws instead of enjoying all the good parts. You bewitched me, and if I can’t have all of you, I don’t want scraps. I’m not half-assing what we are.” He took a quick breath. “My heart has two rooms, and you occupy both.”
I just stared at him, tucked under his big arm. What could I say to that?
He was…Row. Gorgeous and successful and grumpy and perfect. I was a novelty. He liked that I made him laugh. That he had my legs and mouth on speed dial. But the fascination with me would wear off as soon as we’d get serious.
If I could even get serious with a man without screwing it up.
Even if Row did love me, my trust issues would never let me be happy with him. After being chased to my almost-death by schoolmates, with nearly two decades of being heavily bullied under my belt, I wasn’t so hot on the human race. Yes, Row was a part of the very narrow exception, but could I put my entire trust and hope in someone?
Bet all my chips on this one person?
Putting my heart on the line terrified me, and even though there was a part of me that was elated, there was another bigger part that told me to run for the hills.
“What are you asking?” I raked my fingers through my hair, realizing they were shaking.
“I’m asking you to fall in love with me.” His eyes didn’t drop from mine, clinging to my face, searching, pleading. “Please.”
I almost smiled. I knew how hard it was for him to use this word. “What if you don’t catch me?” I worried my lip.
“I will.”
“How do you know?”
“My arms have been wide-open and waiting for years.” He stretched his muscular arms, with the needles poking out of the veins, for emphasis.
I dropped my elbows to my knees and held my face in my hands, trying to breathe through what was fast becoming a panic attack.
“This is the part where you say something.” Row gave me a blank stare. “No pressure or anything.”
There were so many things running through my head.
I want you, but I’m scared to death.
This is too soon, too fast.
But I had to say something, so I said, “I need more time.”
