Page 113 of Rebellious

My heart sinks, knowing he was giving me the stupid space I asked for.

“I’ve waited for you, and now I’m done.”

I cock my head to the side. “You’re done doing what?”

He tosses the marker onto the nightstand and pushes his hand through my hair. “I’m done living without you.”

I swallow. “What about the rules?”

He smirks. “I already sent all the ones I had.”

“The texts?”

He nods. “Can you live with those or not?”

This is so confusing. “Bennett, maybe I’m just sleep deprived, but I don’t understand what you’re talking about. What about your father and mine?”

Isn’t this what the last twenty years were all about? Our fathers staying friends at all costs?

Bennett pulls me closer, leaning his head in and inhaling. “Your father gave me his word.”

I laugh. “My father gave you his word about what?”

Bennett places a kiss to my neck. “He said, and I quote, ‘nothing—not even the two of us will drive Jameson away. If it would have, I’d have used it a long time ago.’”

A deep laugh seeps out of me, followed by a hiccup. “And your father?”

Bennett tightens his grip in my hair. “Said he was a grown ass man, and I’d do best remembering that.”

I stop breathing. That wasn’t a blessing. “How do you feel about it?”

He nuzzles under my ear. “I’ve had months to get used to just taking care of myself.”

I pull back so I can look at him. “You learned to give yourself shots?” He nods. “Our fathers suggested I learn how to handle my shit and stop worrying about theirs.”

For the first time since Bennett showed up, I allow myself to touch him. Running my hands over his shoulders, I take in the additional muscle he’s put on since we’ve been apart. “I’m proud of you,” I tell him.

He kisses my ear and whispers, “Don’t be. I should have done this a long time ago.”

Eh. Maybe.

“I’m so sorry, Aspen.” His eyes are alight with excitement, but his body is tense. “There’s nothing I can ever say to make up for all the wasted time and pain I’ve caused you.”

I wrap my arms around him, consoling him like I’ve done all his life. “I forgive you.”

He pulls back, serious. “Don’t bullshit me,” he says. “Make me beg for your forgiveness. I deserve it. All my life you’ve been there for me, endured and took everything I threw at you and made the best of it. You didn’t deserve the relationship I strapped you with.”

I trail a finger along his clenching jaw, memorizing every frown line. “I wanted any piece of you I could have,” I admit. “I was okay waiting for it.”

He sighs. “I know you’ve made a life for yourself here, but I’d—” He swallows, hesitating.

“You’d what?”

His eyes close briefly. When they open, nothing but determination remains. “I’d like to make a life here with you too.”

Everything in me wants to pinch him and make sure this is real. And while I’d like to ask him a million questions and yell at him for waiting so long, I don’t. Because none of it matters.

Sure, I made a life, but it wasn’t a happy one because he wasn’t in it.

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