Page 66 of House of Roots and Ruin
He traced his fingers down my cheeks and I was suddenly, acutely aware that neither of us wore anything but nightclothes. Alex’s eyes flickered over the tassels of our robes, tangled together. His dark green and gold, mine a light jade.
“What a pair we make,” he murmured.
Breathing felt too heavy an act. Speaking, impossible. I nodded.
“Tell me the truth—are you all right?”
“I am now,” I promised.
“I’ve heard the most horrible stories of people who—”
“Alex,” I said, trying to cut him off.
“I’m sorry, I just…I had this awful image in my mind that when I came in, you wouldn’t be here, that you’d be…” He swallowed back the thought. “And I…I’m not ready to live in a world without you, Verity.”
“I’m here. I’m better. I’m not going anywhere.”
His hands framed my face, cupping my cheeks and directing my gaze to him. “I love you,” he said clearly, breaking through my assurances. “I’m trying to tell you I love you.”
My breath caught, stilling me.
Alex’s eyes were impossibly large, earnest and vulnerable, as he waited for my response. I could feel the weight of his anticipation, his hope, pressing against me with tangible heft. I did not want to let him down. “You love me?”
“It’s probably too soon to say it—much too soon, I’m sure—but the feelings are there. They’re true and they’re real, and, Verity, I love you.”
“I—”
He stopped me with a swift finger to my lips. “You don’t have to say it just because I did. I know…I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks, a month, at the most, but I’ve loved every moment of our time together, talking and laughing—you’ve no idea how much I love to see you laugh. When we’re apart, I count down the minutes, the seconds till I get to see you again. Sometimes I feel as though I’ve lost my mind, but I know I haven’t. I just…”
“Oh, Alex.” Even in my confusion, a smile broke across my face. I felt like a flower, turning its face to bask in the sun’s warmth.
I didn’t love him, not yet, not in the way he described, with fervor and zest, but I appreciated him. I enjoyed his company, respected his thoughts, worried over his welfare.
That was love, wasn’t it? Of a sort?
“I care about you too.” The words were out of my mouth and I meant them.
The foundation was there. The rest would come later.
I was sure of it.
He froze, his relief palpable. “You do?”
I nodded, determined. “I do.”
Alex’s breath came out in a rush. “Really?”
“Really.”
With a whoop of joy, he leaned forward, catching my mouth in his.
Instantly I froze, surprised by the sudden change from conversation to intimacy. His lips moved over mine, gentle but persistent. How did he know how to do this? I didn’t dare reciprocate, terrified any movement would be wrong.
His fingers curved at the back of my neck and I marveled at how confidently he touched me. Wasn’t he concerned I might think him too forward? Didn’t he worry I might not find his caresses appealing?
Alex murmured noises of appreciation, drawing me farther into my tailspin of thoughts. Shouldn’t he sense I wasn’t with him in this moment, as present and eager to explore him as he seemed to me? We shared everything with one another, all of our thoughts and dreams. Now we should be together in this physical space and I couldn’t help but feel left behind.
His breath deepened with obvious enjoyment.
