Page 105 of See My Words

“How could I, Rylan?” Scott stared off into the distance. “When I was eighteen, I was a complete fucking mess, yet you said you loved me.”

“I did love you when we were kids. As much as a teenage boy can love someone, I loved you. It was real, and it mattered.”

“I told you it didn’t.”

Rylan flinched, but he didn’t move away, and Scott went on relentlessly, “Six years later, here I am, still a fucking mess—I just hide it better. And yet you say you love me.”

“Because I do.”

“So here’s the thing that kept running through my mind, Ry. Why? What the fuck do you get out of this? An uneducated asshole who treats people like shit? Someone who constantly makes poor choices, choices that hurt not only me, but now you, too?”

“Scott, stop it—”

“I did not trust it. And if I didn’t trust your feelings, there’s no way in hell I’d trust mine.” Scott let out a shaky breath. “I kept thinking, what if this isn’t real?”

Rylan pressed his forehead to Scott’s cheek. “Scott, do you love me?”

“Maybe how we feel about each other isn’t real. Maybe what you think is love is nothing but a—a convoluted mix of responsibility and pity. Maybe what I feel for you is some sort of twisted gratitude.”

“Do you love me?” Rylan’s voice was whisper soft.

“I needed to see if it was real, Rylan.”

“Do you love—”

“Yes!” Scott burst out. “God yes, I love you. And all I wanted was to not be a fucking mess before telling you that.”

The wind picked up, whirling around them, and Rylan yelped as a clump of wet snow blew from a nearby tree and landed with a splat on the back of his neck. Scott brushed it off quickly before hauling Rylan into his lap and wrapping him up in his arms until he stopped shivering.

“Ugh, I’m a Florida boy,” Rylan moaned, teeth chattering. “Beaches, humidity, not snow!”

Scott gave a husky laugh, and Rylan looked up at him, his eyes luminous with emotion. They stared at each other for a breathless moment until Scott leaned down and kissed him.

“I love you, Rylan Mahoney,” he whispered against his lips. “I love you.”

Rylan wound his arms around Scott’s neck, burying his face in his shoulder, body shaking. “I’m—I’m so—”

Scott kissed him again tenderly before boosting Rylan to his feet. “C’mon, Ry, let’s get you home.”

They set off down the trail, arm in arm, Rylan tucked in close to Scott’s side. “Thanks for showing me all this,” he said at last. “I just can’t help but think we could’ve gotten to this point on our own without separating, you know? If you’d told me—”

Scott shook his head. “No, it’s not that simple, Ry.” His voice was gentle but firm. “You can’t tell me you didn’t notice a pattern to our relationship, even as far back as Florida.”

Rylan didn’t reply, his mouth set stubbornly, and Scott went on before he could dredge up whatever argument was brewing in his head. “Think about it for a moment. I’d fuck up and shut down, and you’d end up doing the emotional work for both of us, over and over again.”

“Part of being in love, though, is taking the difficult with the easy,” Rylan said fiercely, “because I’m not in this for your hot body and perfect face. I never was, and I love all of you.”

“But if you’re being honest, you were already getting tired of my shit, and I was getting resentful of you, even as I smothered you with my neediness. It wasn’t healthy, and something needed to change. That last night at the club, what I said to you, what Byron did—”

His words choked off, and Rylan tightened his arm around Scott’s waist. “We would’ve gotten through it. We would have, Scott.”

“Rylan.” Scott stopped walking and took his shoulders in his hands, looking down at him. “We weren’t on equal emotional footing, and you know it.”

Rylan closed his eyes, and he reached up and grasped Scott’s wrists. “Jesus, why I’m arguing with you about this? Maybe I’m just exhausted and overwhelmed, but the whole time I was gone, I was so afraid I’d get back and you wouldn’t need me anymore.”

“I don’t.”

Rylan’s eyes flew open, and he made a stricken sound. He tried to pull away, but Scott held him fast. “Listen to me. I don’t need you to constantly build me up. I don’t need you to reassure me I have more to offer than my hot ass. I don’t need you in order to make a good life for myself—even a happy one.”