Page 93 of Somehow You Knew

“Would you believe me if I told you that your brothers helped change my mind?”

My eyebrows draw together. “My brothers?”

“Yeah.” He clears his throat before continuing. “They said they could tell I was struggling with how I feel about you and that I needed to make a fucking decision—or at least tell you where I stand.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat, nervous for what he’ll say next. “What did you decide?”

He buries his hand in my hair, pulling my forehead to his. “I want you, Hazel, even though I shouldn’t.”

“Why shouldn’t you?” I ask breathlessly, my heart in my throat.

“It’s complicated.”

“So then un-complicate it.”

He shakes his head and releases me. “All I know is that not giving into my desire for you—for both your body and mind—was causing me more pain than I stand to feel later. So, I’m waving my white flag. I think my aunt may have been right.”

I snort. “Oh my God.”

That smirk of his returns to his lips. “It’s insane.”

I lean forward and press my lips to his once more. “I think she might have been right too.” As the words leave my lips, a weight lifts from my chest, like all the resistance between us was preventing us from admitting what’s been there all along—a connection, and it’s not just physical.

“You drive me crazy, Spitfire, but getting to know you, fighting with you, has made this the best three months of my life. You amaze me,” he says, cupping my jaw. “The way you speak your mind, the way you see the world through your camera, the way you continued to care for me even when I was trying to push you away.” A pinch forms between his brows. “God, I hated every minute of it.”

“Then why did you do it?” I place a hand on the center of my chest. “I’ve been going out of my mind trying to understand you, Gage. Because everything that you just said? I feel that too.”

“Because I was scared, Hazel. Scared of falling for you and hurting you, or losing you, or doing anything to fuck things up. I don’t know what the future holds and—”

I hold up a hand to stop him. “No one does, Gage. So why don’t we forget about the timelines and deadlines, just take it one day at a time?”

He’s quiet while he considers it, and I’m glad he doesn’t reply right away—because although I am truly starting to see a future with this man, I know that admitting his feelings was a huge hurdle for him. My romantic heart wants to believe this was all kismet, but the little sliver of a realist in me is bracing for the eventual crash that every other relationship has ended in.

“Okay.”

One word. That’s all I needed to hear.

My heart is pounding as I stare at the man I married for 5.1 million dollars but eventually found myself wanting in every way imaginable.

I move to straddle his lap and admire his ink, my hand gliding across his shoulders and down his arms, memorizing the array of roses and skulls, with the occasional random object like a boat and a compass-looking thing.

I have so many questions about him that I’ve been afraid to ask for months. “Do your tattoos mean anything, or do you just throw a dart at the wall and go with whatever it lands on?"

Gage chuckles, shaking his head. “Honestly, I just thought they looked badass.” He points to the compass. “But this is the Viking Compass. I included that to pay homage to my heritage.”

“What does it represent?”

“Traditionally, it symbolizes a safe passage through wind and rough water.”

I drag my finger over the black ink. “It’s beautiful.”

“Do you have any tattoos?”

I gape at him, dumbfounded. “You’ve seen me naked.”

He cups both of my breasts in his hands. “Sorry. I was more focused on these and your pussy.”

Fighting the urge to forgo the conversation and ride his cock that’s hardening beneath me, I reply, “No tattoos. I want one, though.”

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