Page 55 of Desperate People

Real. Open. Brave.

“If you don’t want this, it’s okay. I’ll go. I promise. But,” Lucy whispers and swallows, takes a shaky breath. “If there’s even a chance you want me as much as I want you, then why shouldn’t we, Balor?”

My hands clench against the bed on either side of her, jaw locked so tight it aches.

“You’re right,” she whispers, still going like she has to convince me to want her or something, and I swear my heart cracks wide open when her desperate, pleading eyes stay on mine.

“Anything could’ve happened tonight. He could’ve been waiting for me instead of leaving that rose. And if that had happened?—”

Lucy pauses, her body trembles, and for an instant my fury rises again, high and fast like the tide. Then she continues, “If things had gone bad?—”

“Not gonna happen, Angel. I won’t ever let anything bad happen to you,” I tell her, frowning at the mere idea of it.

She pauses.

Leans in.

“But if it did happen, the only thing I’d regret is not being with you.”

The words punch the air from my lungs.

She’s right.

Fuck, she’s right.

I’ve wasted too much time convincing myself I wasn’t good enough. That I didn’t deserve her. That walking away was noble instead of cowardly.

But she’s here.

She wants me.

Not the polished version.

Not the cleaned-up boardroom act.

Me.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” she starts to apologize, squirming to get away from me, and I realize it’s because I’m frozen like a fucking moron.

“No. Stop,” I say, stilling her movements.

Because the truth is I want her like I’ve never wanted anything in my entire fucking life.

I lower myself back down, foreheads touching, breaths mingling.

It’s truth time.

“Lucy, you should know, I want you, too. I’ve always wanted you,” I confess, and the smile she gives me in return is like the fucking sun coming out.

So, I go for broke.

“Ever since I saw you. I’ve been trying to stay away, cause I knew, if I touched you, you’d be mine. Understand?”

She’s so close. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly against mine.

The thin cotton shirt is too much between us. I want to rip it off her. But I wait for her to respond.

“I understand, Balor. I want that. I want you.”

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