Page 32 of Fake It Til You Break It

Wait. What?

“You didn’t think to maybe tell me about that?” I laughed as I leaned back against the railing, but it lacked any real humor.

“I thought the agency would have notified you.” He shuffled closer, his shiny wingtips scuffing over the concrete floor, and took my hands. “Nick is a friend, nothing more. He was a lifeline for a long time, but I’ve never had any romantic interest in him.”

“I know.” I did, truly, but I hadn’t been thinking rationally. “I just love you so damn much, and sometimes—”

“You love me?”

Fuck. I hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that, but I sure as hell wouldn’t take it back. “Isn’t it obvious?” Another self-deprecating chuckle fell from my lips. “I’ve been half gone over you since you showed up in basketball shorts and called me Mr. Shaw.”

“Thank you.”

Okay, not the response I wanted, but I’d take it. At least he hadn’t flat out rejected me. Yet.

“For saying it first,” he continued, his mouth curving on one side. “It makes it easier for me to say that I love you, too.” Leaning into me, he brushed his lips to mine and squeezed my hands. “I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out. In my defense, though, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. It’s kind of terrifying.”

“It’s absolutely terrifying.” Framing his face between my hands, I dipped my head and brought our mouths together, slow, tender, and filled with all the words I didn’t know how to say. “You cussed.”

His lips pursed, and his eyebrows drew together. “What?”

“Inside. You said you didn’t give a damn where we were.”

“Yes? And? I still stand by that.”

“I don’t like it.”

His laughter was so damn infectious, and I wanted to listen to it for the rest of our lives.

“Really? You don’t like that I said damn?”

I shook my head. “It’s not you.”

“It’s just a habit so I don’t slip up around the kids. I’m not as innocent as you think I am.” Arching against me, he pressed his lips to my ear and lowered his voice. “Sometimes, I even say fuck.”

“Jazz,” I growled in warning.

He laughed again and pulled away. “Fuck,” he repeated, his eyes blazing with challenge. “Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

I had created a monster, and I couldn’t have been prouder. “Wait until we get home.”

He stilled and cocked his head to the side. “You know, that’s not really the threat you think it is.”

“Have you been drinking? You’re mouthy tonight.”

His laughter faded, and he returned to my side. “No, I haven’t been drinking. I just feel safe with you.” Resting against my shoulder, he glanced at the closed doors and frowned as if he could see the party beyond. “I don’t really want to be here.”

“Then don’t. We can leave right now if you want.”

We stood in the moonlight for a long time, breathing in the smells of the city, before he finally spoke again. “Take me home.”

Epilogue

~ Jasper ~

Five years later…

“Mr. Shaw, where is my sweater?”

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