Page 53 of Beautiful Ruin


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Harrison

It’s possible to fall in love anywhere. But here, in the dark, I understand why it’s possible to fall here.

She’s floating on her back, and I’m holding her by the hand, both of us swaying gently with the waves.

I keep touching her, but it’s leisurely and not desperate like before.

I could touch her forever. The curves of her body, its secrets.

When I saw her tonight, I was pissed. And proud.

She’s stronger than I ever gave her credit for. This past year, she’s gotten stronger still.

My Queen.

I understand why she’s wary with her heart. She was before I met her, and now she has reason to be. I gave her reason to be.

“I realized something tonight.” My voice cuts through the rhythmic sounds of the beach.

Rae turns toward me, shifting so her feet are rooted in the sand once again.

I tuck a wet piece of hair gently behind her ear. “If Mischa keeps us apart, he’s already won. I don’t want to keep you at a distance.”

She exhales but doesn’t answer.

The water flows around us, between us.

“I found my mother’s wedding ring the other day. Sebastian and I did, technically. It says, ‘Through everything.’” I don’t know what they went through, what choices they made. But God, did they love one another.”

“You envy them,” she reads.

“I respect them. Because I know how fucking hard it is,” I admit, threading my fingers through hers. “Last year, my entire past was called into question. If my parents weren’t good people, why the fuck should I be? I didn’t deserve more. I didn’t deserve you. After Kings burned, the only thing I could see a path to was vengeance. I thought I was doing the right thing, the noble thing. I thought I could win you back when it was over. But in trying to save our future, I gave it away before it had begun.”

Her troubled eyes search mine. “Your past can only define you if you let it. If there’s a chance for us—if,” she goes on as if she can feel my jaded heart leap, “we need to be equals, Harrison. You can’t make decisions without me.”

She presses up on her toes, her full lips coaxing mine. I taste her, the faintest hint of my favorite whisky, but under it is strength. Resolution.

When I pull back, I murmur, “You’re a force.”

“So are you. Unafraid of jerking off in a tux with a club full of witnesses.”

My lips curve to match hers. “You enjoyed that.”

I recall how she looked on stage, daring me with her eyes, full lips parting with appreciation when I started.

“Not nearly as much as you did.” Her teeth flash white in the dark.

My laughter rumbles through my chest. God, I love this woman. More than I knew I could love anything.

“A cottage,” she says.

My brows rise. “A cottage?”

“Somewhere quiet. With a lake. No paparazzi. No work. That’s where we’ll go when this is all over.”

“Ahhh,” I say, getting into the possibility. “No internet either.”

“But how will you watch Great British Bake Off?”

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