Page 169 of Nash

“I’m sorry.” He sounds so warm. “I truly am. Alena can forgive me, but it won’t be right.Iwon’t be right until I earn your forgiveness, too.”

“Why should I forgive you? If I had a dollar for every time you lied to me,” I tremble, “I’d be rich.”

“Youarerich. You have a life of me giving you everything I have: heart, body, and soul.” Slowly, he rises. “I’m a flawed man living a dangerous life. I warned you, Vale, but you said you wanted it, so I need you to understand it, too. Understandme. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you and Alena. So, let me inside, and we’ll talk about it.”

I don’t know if I can talk because I already understand him. Nash is a beautiful beast who protects the ones he loves.

But me? I’m a storm of emotions I don’t understand, so I rely on my lonely habit. It’s gotten me this far. “I wanna be alone.”

“No, you don’t.” He cups my flushed cheek. “You’re not alone, and you never were. I’ve been here all along, and I’m not leaving. If I have to kneel, watching a tulip wilt in my hand while I fight for you every day, I will.”

I mutter, “No, you won’t.”

No man’s ever fought for me.

Well … Nash did. Hekilledfor me.

Twice.

“Wanna bet, poison?” he asks, letting my hand go so I can swing my door open.

He waits at my threshold while I blink, my pupils adjusting from the bright sun outside to the muted shadows of my apartment. It takes a moment to look around. To realize…

They’re everywhere.

Dozens of red tulips in glass vases circle my apartment. They’re nestled between my stacks of books. They’re on my dresser. They’re in baskets on my loveseat. On my bed, there’s a blanket of their red petals, and on my laptop stands a sculpture of hand-blown glass tulips, two intertwined.

“Oh my god,” I sigh, knowing Nash did this and not believing it.

Then, I glance left to my kitchenette, to the bistro table, and I choke down my sob. My happy sob.

Two Happy Meals.

They sit in their red boxes on gold trays.

When I don’t understand my emotions. When they flood me with pain and memories … Nash anchors me. He’s strong enough to feel them with me. Lust, love, or loss; it doesn’t matter. He holds me until my storm passes. He slings his sunshine and makes it all okay.

He’s right.

He’s always been here.

He’s always fought for me.

He’s always loved me.

And me?

I’m the queen who belongs beside him.

“Bet on us, Vale.” His lips press to my ear. “Let me love you. Let me inside forever, and I promise I’ll never leave.”

How do you start forgiving someone when, deep down, you always will? You’ll always love them? You’ll always give them a chance because they’re the only one you’re willing to take?

I turn around and give him my kiss. He’s the only man who gets it, as Nash gives me his, too, tender and slow at first. Like he’ll always understand my past while he kills for our future. While his tongue finds mine, claiming even more of me.

“You have so much groveling to do,” I warn over our heating lips.

“Poison, I’ll fall to my knees for you.” And he does.

---