Page 78 of #Moonstruck

“Boyfriends?”

I realized I could really like a romantic boyfriend. “Depends on what he thinks is romantic.”

He slipped his arms around my waist, and I sank into the feel of him. The tiny sparks he generated set off small flames inside my veins. “I can think of something romantic both you and I really enjoy doing, if you’re interested.”

I was interested.

After kissing me for a very long time and more passionately than he probably should have, I finally told him good night and fell asleep quickly. I had always been a ridiculously light sleeper. When my mom was in full-on lecture mode of the “Do you know what I’ve done/given up for you” variety, she always brought it up. “Do you know how many times I had to get up in the middle of the night with you because you heard some small noise?”

It was how I knew when any of my brothers snuck out of the house. They still owed me so many favors for keeping my mouth shut all those years.

So when my bedroom door quietly opened, I was instantly awake. Not afraid, because I knew Ryan would never let anything happen to me. But alert.

“Maisy?”

“I’m up.” I glanced over at the small digital clock next to the bed. Three thirty in the morning.

I felt my mattress sink as he sat on it, next to my knees. I went to reach for the lamp on my nightstand, but he put his hand on my forearm.

“Leave the light off.”

At the sound of his deep, husky instruction, my blood thickened, and my pulse hammered inside me. He didn’t release my arm and instead locked his fingers with mine.

“There’s something I want to say, and I think it’ll be easier without the light on.”

My heartbeat had become so loud that I was surprised it wasn’t shaking the bed. I didn’t know what I expected him to say, but I could tell from the tone of his voice that it was important.

“I know what I said. That I wouldn’t pressure you or try to influence you. I wanted you to make a decision on your own. But, Maisy, I can’t stay quiet. I want this to be real.”

“What?” What did he want to be real? Us?

“I don’t want to pretend to date you. I want to be with you. Because I think ... I think I’m in love with you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Every molecule inside me froze and then sped up, threatening to burst.

“I’ve never been in love before. All I know is that what I feel for you is different from anything else I’ve ever felt, so ...” He let out a self-conscious laugh. “For someone who sings about it constantly, you would think I’d know.”

He loved me? Ryan De Lunalovedme?

I’d never been in love before, either. Did I love him?

I had spent so much time trying to avoid having any feelings for him that I’d totally suppressed them. I didn’t know how I felt. I wanted to be with him. I liked him. The physical connection was out-of-this-world insane.

But despite me trying to close myself off to him and what he made me feel, this was more than casual. If I wasn’t actually in love with him yet, I was definitely falling for him. It was like when I was younger and tried to stay away from music by picking a different career path. I kept telling myself that I couldn’t trust or rely on Ryan. That he would hurt me. That what we had was pretend.

No matter what I did, no matter how much I’d told myself I wanted anything else, it always came back to him.

Regardless of how much that frightened me.

I felt his grip tighten. “I kind of went out on a major limb here.” His tone was light, but I heard his vulnerability.

He deserved to know the truth. “I’m afraid to let this be real. You stayed away from me after the bee accident, and it devastated me. That was before we kissed. Before you said you ...” I sucked in a deep breath. “Before you said you loved me. How much worse would it be if you walked away now? If you cheated on me with some pleech?”

“I stayed away after you got stung because I realized then that I had fallen in love with you, and you didn’t respond. I thought you didn’t feel the same. Now I know you didn’t hear me.” He was right. I most definitely would have remembered him saying that. “I’m not going anywhere. I don’t want anyone but you. I don’t see that changing.”

“I’m scared.” Not just scared.

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