Page 114 of Book Boyfriends
“Cecily. She should have married Simon Davenport, not me. The third act breakup, as Owen calls it, should have been ourend. I do not deserve the happy ending the book offers. Simon should have beenherDavis, not me.”
I blink. “But you claim to love her. You said you did all of this because of her. To get back to her.”
“I do love Cecily… And I did do all this for her, but now, I wonder how much of it is love for her, or my need to win. To beat my fellow fictional brotherhood of would-be suitors and Davis, here, for your affection. Even the book’s happy ending is tarnished by the fact that it still gives me what I want, while taking away everything from her. In marrying me, she loses her family. Her father may be a bastard, but he is good to her and was all she’s had since her mother passed as a girl. I may want the ending promised in the book, with her carrying my name and my child, but I do not deserve it. Not at her expense. Nor at yours.” He meets my gaze, his eyes shimmering with regret. “I was willing to take everything from you to get what I want. Men like that, like me, do not deserve happy endings.”
The raw emotion in his voice stills my breath. I believe him. James may be inspired by Will, but he’s not him. Just as Owen isn’t Hope, and Lars isn’t Jackson. Nor am I any of the women I wrote about. The seeds of who each of my book boyfriends is may have been planted by me, but they have grown into their own people.
“I won’t take her, nor anyone else’s happiness to ensure mine. I don’t want to be thatman anymore,” he says, his voice quiet.
“Youtrulymean that,” I murmur, certainty coursing through me.
“I do.”
“I accept your apology,” I step forward, holding out my hand.
“Georgia, I do not deserve?—”
“It’s not about what you deserve, but what I want.” I look between Davis’s cautious expression and then back to James. “Idon’t know what the future looks like for us, but what I know is that I accept your apology.”
“Thank you.” A phantom smile flexing, he takes my hand. “You truly are spectacular, Georgia Lane.”
“You really are remarkable,” Davis whispers, his watchful gaze locked on James, who strides away. “I don’t know if I can forgive him.”
“You don’t have to.” I turn to face him and wrap my arms around his middle. “Acceptance of someone’s apology doesn’t equate forgiveness. It just means that I accept they are sorry. Forgiveness is a longer journey, and I’m not sure if that’s one I will walk with James or not, but I do believe he is remorseful.”
“Again, you are remarkable.” He leans in, pressing his forehead to mine.
“I think you’re pretty remarkable, too.”
“Shall we go get Wentworth from Hope and Rem?”
“Let’s make a quick stop at my apartment first.” I scrape my teeth along my lower lip.
“Someone’s insatiable.” He quirks his right brow.
“It’s your fault, you went all primal, protective caveman for a moment. And I’m choosing not to examine it through a feminist lens and just go with what it does to my lady bits.”
“Well—” he squeezes my ass, pressing me flush with him. “You calling me baby did cause a stirring in myman bits,” he says, his timbre low and playful.
“Someone best get to carrying me to my apartment.”
He hoists me over his shoulder. A barrage of obnoxious giggles belting from me earns me a playful swat on my butt.
“To your lady cave!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
THE WITCHCRAFT CONSULTANT
“Good thing Davis is leaving for a few days, or else you’d have trouble walking,” Hope teases from the passenger’s seat.
Not only did Hope schedule the appointment with the witchcraft consultant, but she insisted on coming. I’m not sure I’d visit a witch without her. In our two-decade-plus long friendship, there are very few moments—big or small—we haven’t shared. That includes my second date escapades with Davis.
“Thank goodness Rem and I were having lunch on the back patio or else your vagina would need life support.” She waggles her eyebrows.
Thanks to my brother and bestie catching us on our way to my apartment, me giggling about being hoisted over Davis’s shoulder, no sex was had. Within moments, Hope dragged me away to dish, leaving our fellas to play with Wentworth in the backyard.
Our fellas.Giddiness flutters in my chest with that.
