Page 92 of Edge of Whispers

“Oh, yeah?” I sat down on the futon with an undignified thump. “Don’t tell me what to do, Knightly. I’m done with your lectures and your bullshit ultimatums.”

“I love you,” he said roughly.

That cut my tirade off and left me gasping. “H-h-huh?”

“I’m sorry for all the stupid shit I said. I was scared. I was reacting to old stuff that had absolutely nothing to do with you. And I’m so sorry I did that.”

I rocked on the couch, my hands over my mouth. “Old stuff,” I repeated.

“Yeah. Stuff I never worked through. But after what happened, I had to. I couldn’t go on like that. Smothering to death in a box I made for myself. Trying to keep everything under control. It was grow or die. So I grew. I’m trying to, anyhow.”

“Um. Okay. Growing how?”

Liam sank down onto his knees. He pried one of my hands off my mouth and kissed it, reverently, slowly. In the silence, it felt like a sacred ceremony.

“I love you, Nancy D’Onofrio,” he said.

I was vibrating with emotion, but this thing between us was a maze, a confusion of entrances and exits, full of dead ends and traps and pitfalls. My heart shook at the idea that there might actually be a narrow, winding way through it.

If we could find it together.

“Why didn’t you call me?” I asked.

Damn it. I’d blurted out the question I’d sworn I wouldn’t ask. It had just sprung up and asked itself without my permission.

He hesitated. “I couldn’t for a while. First, I was numb. Then I was scared. Then I was just embarrassed. I’ll regret making you wait for the rest of my life.”

That startled me into smiling. “Oh, come on. Don’t get melodramatic. The rest of your life is a long time.” I paused. “I hope,” I added delicately.

“Do you?” He slid his arms around my hips, pressing his face to my belly. “I’m glad you feel that way. But no matter how long it is, it’ll be too long without you.”

Whoa. He’d caught me in a weak moment. He was just waiting for me to cave.

And oh, how I wanted to cave. I ached for it.

I rested my hands on his shoulders, I suppose with a vague notion of pushing him away, but as soon as my body made contact with his, my fingers dug in. He felt leaner, harder than I remembered. His body was taut. Tension thrummed through it.

I couldn’t push him away to save my life. I sank down like a wilting flower. I draped myself over him, my face resting on his shoulders, feeling his breath.

“How’s your nose?” My voice was muffled against his shirt.

“Healing,” he replied. “It’s no big deal.”

“It was for me,” I said. “You saved my life. Again. Thanks.”

He lifted his head. “Oh, yeah. Speaking of which.” His voice was disapproving. “Why the hell are you here alone? It’s not safe. I just came here from your sister’s house. Nell and Vivi told me you’d come here.”

“Don’t start with me,” I said. “I’ve been very good, for the most part. I just needed to be alone tonight. I was in a mood.”

He looked dubious. “What mood is that?”

“That question is off limits,” I said crisply.

He was silent, pondering that. “Okay. So how did it all go, anyhow?”

“How did what go?”

“The gig. Peter and Enid. The Jericho. Are they mega superstars now?”

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