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My mind races back to Palmer and her journal. I swallow, wishing to get my point across. “So then you know what it entails and ... howeasyit can be to mix it up with true love.”
I step inside the shower, waiting for him to join me.
When he finally does, I wonder what it’d feel like to have him be all mine. To truly have him. To have him love me.
Marry me.
I feel like Damon doesn’t give himself easily to people, but if he does, he hands them the world.
“Are you trying to say I didn’t love Palmer?” he asks suddenly, his head tilting to the side.
“What? No, I know you love her.”
The corner of his eyes crinkle as he watches me pour shampoo in my hair. He takes a step forward, my breasts almost touching his chest, as he starts massaging my hair.
“Are you going to explain your point?” His brow arches.
I close my eyes and brace myself for impact. Brace myself because this might be it—this might be the end. The part where he leaves me. The part where he disappears. But what better time to do it than now, when we’re in the warm, foggy shower, where he can’t easily run away?
I open my eyes and wrap my hands around his neck. “My point is that I loveyou.”
Even when he freezes—when his eyes leave my own—even then, I keep going. Because if I can’t be honest with Damonout of fear of losing him, then our ship will sink faster than anticipated.
“You shouldn’t say that when you love someone else.”
I shake my head, gripping his neck, forcing his gaze back to mine. “I’m crazy in love with you, Damon. There’s no comparison—none whatsoever.”
“Gemma—”
“No, wait. I love you, Damon, so much it hurts.”
His hand grips my hip, while the other palms the back of my neck as he listens to each syllable pouring out of my mouth, coming straight from the heart.
“I found something that I want for the rest of my life ... withyou. Even at the expense of hurting Harvey.”
And because I don’t want to force him to say anything back, I slam my mouth over his, pulling him in as he roughly brings our bodies so close we might mold into one.
It feels good telling him.
He needs to hear it.
I love him. Ilovehim.
We part, and we’re silent as he rinses the shampoo out of my hair. We wash ourselves, staring at one another, swaddled in our own little world.
I want to kiss the hard line of his jaw.
So, I do.
I step closer and lift myself on my toes before pressing a row of kisses over his jawline. I watch as the water drains the bodywash from his magnificent body.
Everything from his collarbone down to his V-shaped stomach makes my sex clench as I watch him looking like a dark unicorn, ready to teach me the deadly rules of the forest.
We end up in my warm queen-size bed, both naked, our bodies warming up in proximity.
I don’t want to dwell on the fact that he didn’t say he loves me back. Maybe he does and he’s not ready to say it. Maybe he doesn’t.
It doesn’t matter. What matters is that he now knows the depth of my feelings for him.
