Page 139 of Dial L for Lawyer
"I was choosing you," I whisper, voice hoarse.
"Then let me choose you back." He pulls me closer, until there's no space between us. "Let me choose you publicly, messily, with witnesses and consequences and everything."
I close my eyes, trying to imagine walking into a hearing room, sitting in the witness chair, and telling a panel of stern-faced lawyers that yes, I love Caleb Kingsley. Yes, he made my legal help dependent on a date. Yes, it was improper and unprofessional and I don't care because he's the best man I've ever known.
The thought terrifies me. But for the first time, it doesn't make me want to run.
"They're going to ask me everything," I say. "Every detail of how we met. Every time we were together. They're going to make it sound sordid."
"So we tell them the truth." He tilts my chin up. "That I've been halfway in love with you since that first night at the bar. That I made the worst professional decision of my career because I couldn't stand the thought of you walking away again."
"Halfway?" The word slips out before I can stop it.
His smile is soft, devastating. "Full disclosure? I've been completely gone for you since you told me you hated the beach." He grins at me, equal parts fond and exasperated. "You remember that? You said and I quote—'if God wanted humans to be caked in exfoliating sand and fish piss, he wouldn't have invented hotel spas.'"
Now I'm laughing through my snot and tears, which is honestly the most on-brand thing I could do. "You keep a running file on all my flaws?"
He shrugs. "Not flaws. Just facts. I like knowing what makes you human."
I laugh despite everything, the sound watery and broken. "You're an idiot."
"Your idiot," he says, and then he's kissing me again, softer this time but no less desperate.
When we break apart, I rest my forehead against his chest, breathing him in. He smells like soap and anxiety and something fundamentally safe.
"Why do you keep doing this?" I whisper. "Why do you keep holding onto me even when I spend all my energy pushing you away?"
He doesn't hesitate. "Because it's what you need. And maybe, selfishly, what I do too. I spent a lot of years building a life on rules and structure and winning, but you…" He trails off, and there's a note of awe in his voice that makes my stomach flip. "You are the only thing in my life I can't out-logic. You're the only thing worth being reckless for."
I have to look away, because if I look at him for one more second I will absolutely let myself believe it, and then I will fall apart in some way that will take months—maybe years—to fix. I don't know how to just let myself have this, not when every instinct screams that good things are always already halfway to leaving me.
"So you want me to just… let them destroy your career, for me?" My voice is small. Ugly with self-loathing.
He exhales, shaking his head. "I want you to fight. With me, not against me. For once, Serena, just stand still and let good things find you."
I pull back to look at him. This man who walked into my disaster of a life and decided I was worth saving. Who saw through every wall I built and never stopped trying to reach me. Who's standing here now, willing to lose everything, and somehow making me believe that maybe I'm worth losing everything for.
"Caleb."
"Yeah?"
The words are right there, pressing against my throat like caged birds. I've been carrying them for weeks, maybe months, too terrified to let them out. My hands shake. My chest tightens. I can barely breathe around them. But if I'm going to fight for this relationship under oath, in front of a room full of strangers whose job it is to judge us...
"I love you." The words tumble out in a rush, raw and unpolished. "I love you so much it scares me senseless. I love you enough to stay and fight harder than I've ever fought for anything in my life. I love?—"
He cuts me off with a kiss that steals my breath and stops my heart. When he pulls back, his eyes are bright with something that might be tears.
"Say it again," he whispers.
"I love you." This time it comes easier, like a dam breaking. "I love you, and I'm terrified, and I don't know how to do this, but I'm not running anymore."
"Good," he says fiercely. "Because I love you too. Completely. Irrationally. Forever."
He lifts me then, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carries me toward the bedroom, past all the boxes and chaos and deposits me on the edge of the bed. Then he kneels in front of me, hands on my knees, looking up with reverence and heat and that persistent awe. Like every time he touches me he can't believe it's real.
"Again," he demands, and it's almost a plea.
I smirk, wiping at my wet face. "You're ridiculous."
