Page 146 of Into These Eyes
And it feels that way to me, too. I know I’m right where I’m supposed to be, in his arms, just being loved and loving him back.
After accepting his comfort and giving him mine, I pull away enough to touch the one remaining torn piece. “This one?”
His thumb stills on my neck, then resumes the reassuring circles. But he remains silent and, when I meet his gaze, he seems more hesitant to tell me about this last piece than the others. Just as I think he’s clamming up, he takes a deep, resigned breath.
“That one’s for the loss of love, for the wife I’d never have, the family of my own that’d never exist. Why would anyone want me—a convicted killer—in their lives? All the things people take for granted … I’d never hold someone I loved or be held by someone who loved me. I’d never touch someone with the love I have to offer or feel a loving touch … that’s what ripped the last piece apart.”
Now I understand his hesitation. This piece was all about the love he wanted to give and the love he wanted to receive. My heart aches for this beautiful man who deserves all the love in the world.Doesn’t he see that?
Tracing the piece with my fingertip, I ask, “Why didn’t you tell me … that this piece is redundant too?”
When our eyes lock, his thumb stills on the back of my neck. The utter vulnerability in his gaze wrenches at my heart. “Because I don’t really know, with certainty, that it is redundant.”
He’s right. I’m showing him how I feel, but without the words to back it up, he’s left wondering. While I feel loved by the way he looks at me, touches me, holds and talks to me, I can’t be certain either. I’m as vulnerable as he is. Without voicing how we feel, we’re both flailing around in the dark, relying on hope alone.
I’m just not sure if I’m brave enough to be the one to put myself out there first. But if he doesn’t feel as deeply for me as I do for him, isn’t it better to know?
“You’re holding someone right now,” I say softly, “and someone’s holding you back. You’re touching someone, and you’re being touched in return.”
He tightens his arm around my waist, pulls me flush against him, and rests his forehead on mine, the tension between us sparking.
Oh God. He noticed. By the look in his eyes, he’s not about to let me get away with it. And I don’t want him to. I need his words, just as much as he wants mine.
“You skipped over the one word that gives all those things meaning,” he points out, his voice strained.
“Love,” I whisper.
“Do you love me … the way I love you?”
If I had a weak heart, I think it’d give out right about now.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
He lifts his forehead from mine, his eyes unguarded and full of turmoil.
“Because,” I continue, “I don’t know the way you love me.”
“I love you,” he says without hesitation, “for the way my day can’t even begin until you look at me. I love you for the way you care with such genuine affection, it brings me to tears. I love you because you don’t judge me when I break. I love you for the way you chase away my darkness. And I love you because you make life look so much brighter than I ever thought possible. I’m so in love with you, Jamie Evans. You’re the reason this tiny little fucking life of mine is worth living.” He inhales deeply and lets it out. “So, do you love me the way I love you?”
Staring into his beautiful, vulnerable eyes, I don’t hesitate either. “Yes. God,yes. I love you in all of those ways, and all the other ways I’m in love with you, too.”
I want to say so much more, but the palpable relief on his face has my heart pounding like a sledgehammer, smashing against my chest and beating a drum in my ears. Saying those words for the very first time was exhilarating. Especially since I didn’t have to risk rejection. That was all on Gavin. His own thundering heart beneath my palm tells me just how much courage it took.
He cradles my face with such tenderness, I’m engulfed by a wave of euphoria. Then he kisses me. And it’s the first kiss I gavehim, our mouths joined and pressing in that wonderful offering of love and affection.
Chest rumbling, he tilts my head and moves his mouth over mine, his lips full and soft as we drink each other in. When he moves us away from the wall, I wind my legs around him as he spins us in circles, my mind dizzy in this magical moment.
Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead against mine. “Pinch me,” he demands on a ragged breath.
Grinning, I slip my hand down to his backside and obey. “Awake?”
“Thank fuck.”
“That makes you happy?”
“You have no idea.”
“I think I have every idea,” I say.
