Page 138 of Let It Breathe
“No, I’m telling you to trust me. I’ll earn it—believe me, I’ve been working on that. But I need you to give me a chance.”
She hesitated, then nodded. “You’re right. I owe you a chance.”
“Damn straight. Next doubt?”
She sighed and nibbled the corner of her toast. “You slept with my cousin.”
“You slept with my best friend. Actually, you married him. That’s much worse, but I’m not dwelling on it. You know why?”
“Why?” A shudder ran through her. She kinda liked this take-charge version of Clay.
“Because that marriage only lasted a year. And ours is going to last a lot longer than that.”
Reese choked on her toast. Clay handed her a glass of orange juice, patting her back until she stopped coughing.
She stared at him through watery eyes. “Did you just propose to me?”
“Of course not. I’ll be much more romantic when I propose. I’m only informing you that I will be proposing eventually, and when I do, you will say yes and we will live happily ever after.”
“You’re nuts.”
“That’s why you love me. And also why you’ll say yes to my proposal.”
Reese set her toast back on the plate, and Clay grabbed her hand. He lifted it to his mouth, kissing the back of her knuckles. A ripple of pleasure rolled from her wrist to the tips of her toes.
“Are you going to argue?” he asked. “Tell me you don’t love me? That you don’t want to be with me?”
She looked up from her toast and met his eyes. Despite the cockiness in his speech, she saw real fear there. Reese swallowed hard as tears threatened to clog up her throat.
“I can’t,” she said.
“Can’t argue or can’t be with me?”
“Both,” she said, swallowing again. “Clay, I’m scared. I don’t think I’m cut out for long-term relationships.”
“That’s bullshit.”
She laughed. “That’s your argument?”
“No, that’s just the start of it. Want to know what I think?”
“Does it matter if I do?”
“No, I’m going to tell you anyway.” He took a bite of toast and chewed, while Reese wiggled her fingers inside his grip. His hand felt good—warm and solid and strong.
“I think you need to stop judging yourself by other people’s relationship standards,” he said. “You’ve been listening to Eric wax poetic about relationships being hard work and your parents spout about soulmates and Larissa yammer on about the importance of good sex while Axl tells you—actually, I’m a little afraid to guess what your grandpa’s relationship advice entails.”
“Nudist colonies,” she said. “Also, he says I should ignore everyone else’s relationships and focus on setting my own standards.”
“Oh.” Clay tilted his head. “In that case, I agree with him. The last part, not the nudist colonies. Smart grandpa.”
Nodding, she bit her lip. “I hate to say it, but you’re right.”
Clay looked at her. “Really?”
She squeezed his hand. “Really. I know I’ve been a bitch. I know I’ve been a cynic. I know I haven’t given you the benefit of the doubt these last few days, but I’m going to change that. I want to change that. I want to be with you, Clay. I do.”
He laughed. “Damn. I didn’t figure you’d be this easy.”
