Page 81 of Hate It with You

“Talk to me, Beth,” Alex says from the corner of the ring as I continue pacing back and forth in front of him.

I look at him, stopping in the middle of the ring, only a dim light above lighting a small circle around me.

“I’m scared,” I say, finally catching my breath as I wipe away my remaining tears.

“Of?” He asks, his voice calm as he listens.

“Everything. What if he comes back?”

“He won’t,” he says, his voice sure. “Not with me here. He’s never setting foot within one hundred miles of you again.”

I look at the ground. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

His body shifts as he takes a step toward me. “What makes you think I don’t intend on staying by your side?”

At his question, the words I’ve heard my whole life come flooding back in. “Because once you see who I truly am, you’ll leave.”

“And who are you, Elizabeth Rose?” Alex asks, taking another step toward me.

Looking up at the ceiling, I try to avoid another tear falling from my eye as I repeat what I’ve always been told.

“For starters, I’m lazy and incapable of growing a business. My bookstore is already failing.”

He shakes his head slightly. “Determined, resilient, a beginner ready to learn and take on new challenges.”

“I’m messy, disorganized,” I continue.

He takes another step toward me, a chuckle teasing his throat. “Free-spirited, carefree.”

“I’m a bitch, I never know when to shut my mouth.” The words flow free from my lips as I’ve heard them come from Frank’s so many times.

Another step toward me, Alex continues, “Witty, never afraid to speak your mind, strong.”

“I’m a loner. I have few friends, and I never let anyone in.”

Alex is close now as he places a hand on my hip, his fingers brushing the skin between my leggings and sports bra. “Independent and you care deeply for those you do let close. Something I envy about Sienna and Ben.”

I look up at him, as his words fight against the ones in my head, the one phrase I’ve heard my entire life growing louder. “I’m unlovable.”

He places his knuckle under my chin, lifting slightly as he stares down at me. “My heart says otherwise.”

“What are you doing?” I ask him on a breath, the words in my head snuffed out by his.

“Rewiring your brain.” My eyebrows twitch together as he continues, “I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for whatever it is that shitbag instilled so deep within you, because I love you.”

There it is. The confession I’ve been dreading for months. Though it doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. It’s not as scary as I thought it’d be.

Instead, my heart flutters at the words, my body buzzing to hear them again. I open my mouth to say what, I’m not sure, but he plants a kiss on my lips before I can get a word out.

When he pulls back from the kiss, he continues, “You don’t have to say it back. Not until you’re ready. I’d wait a lifetime if I had to, to hear you say those three words.” He smiles at me gently, an unspoken understanding passing between us as he holds me close.

He’s right. I can’t say the words back to him. Not when I’ve just come to terms with my love for him. I’m not ready to say it aloud.

Instead, I do what I can to show how deeply I care for him. Wrapping my hands around the back of his neck, I pull him down to me.

My lips touch his, softly at first before breaking away for a moment, only to be pulled right back to each other again. His hands roam my lower back, dipping to my ass, squeezing gently as he pulls me closer to him. My calves strain as I stretch tall to meet him at his height, him bending slightly to do the same.

My hands roam his body, our tongues colliding in a waltz, our movements slower than they’ve ever been, deeper than ever before. Every time we touch, our bodies cling to each other, working to solidify our connection. I don’t think either one of us will ever get enough.