Page 132 of The Pucking Date
“You stayed. You showed up, even when I gave you every reason not to. And I didn’t let myself believe it, because if I did...I’d have to admit I didn’t love myself enough.” His eyes finally meet mine, and I feel myself breaking apart piece by piece. “I should’ve told you the second I knew. You deserved that. You deserved everything I couldn’t give you.”
His hands clench into fists, then release. When he finally speaks, his voice is raw. “I still wear the bracelet you tied on my wrist,” he says slowly. “Even when I thought I’d lost you forever. Because it was the only piece of you I had left.”
My breath catches. “You kept it?”
“Never took it off.” His eyes meet mine. “Couldn’t.”
“I love you,” I say. “I think I started falling the moment Iwalked into the Defenders complex and you began circling me, charming, relentless, impossible to ignore. You were all in from day one. I just wasn’t brave enough to match you.”
He still doesn’t move. But slowly, his arms uncross. His hands fall to his sides, no longer fists, no longer armor. Just open. Exposed. Like maybe, he’s not trying to guard his heart anymore.
“I’m not here to ask for forgiveness. I’m just asking for a chance. This time, I show up. This time, I stay. Not because of the pregnancy. Not because it’s right. Because I’m in love with you, and I’m done running. No escape plan. No exit strategy. Just me, ready to be yours…if you’ll still have me.”
Silence. His gaze stays locked on mine. I wait for the blow that will break me.
But it doesn’t come. What comes is worse.
Nothing.
He grits his teeth. His hands flex at his sides, his whole body coiled.
“You should’ve told me,” he says finally. Quiet. Devastating. “You should’ve trusted me with this.”
I nod. I don’t argue.
“You broke something,” he adds, jaw working like he’s fighting a war between his head and his heart. “And I don’t know if I can put it back the way it was.” He runs both hands through his hair, and for a terrifying second, I think he’s going to walk away. Leave me standing here with my heart in pieces on this gym floor.
‘Finn, please?—’
He just stands there, shoulders rigid.
“I’m not asking for the way it was.” My voice cracks. “I’m asking for a shot at what it could be. I’m asking you to let me earn back what I threw away. I’m asking you to let me love you the way you deserve.”
For a heartbeat, we just stare at each other. And I see it, the exact moment his walls crumble. The moment love wins over fear.
He drops the towel. Takes two slow steps that feel like forever. And then he’s crushing me against him, desperate, fierce, like he’s afraid I might disappear again.
“I thought I lost you,” he whispers against my hair, voice broken. “Christ, Red, I thought I lost you forever.”
“Never,” I breathe into his neck. “You’re stuck with me now. No more running.”
“Good,” he growls, pulling me closer. “Because I’m never letting you go again.”
32
WORTH THE WAIT
FINN
The second the words leave her mouth—let me love you the way you deserve—I’m done.
Done pretending I don’t want her. Done holding the line. Done pretending my world didn’t tilt the second she walked into that gym.
I drop the towel and grab her like she’s oxygen and I’ve been drowning for weeks. My hands fist in her hair. My mouth crashes down on hers. She tastes like regret, hope, and mine.
I back her into the nearest ring post, cage her in, and kiss her harder. Deeper. Like I can rewrite everything that went wrong between us with my tongue.
She moans into my mouth, soft, broken, and holy hell, I’ve never heard anything better.
