Page 93 of The Goat in the Bedroom
We were maybe two feet apart now, both breathing hard, both clearly on the edge of something monumental.
“Vegas wasn't practice for me.”
“I wasn't practicing in Vegas.”
We both blurted our words out, one barely after the other.
The words hung between us. My heart stopped. Her eyes went wide.
“What?” I breathed.
“You felt it too?” she whispered.
“Felt it? Artie, I…” The words I'd been holding back for months, maybe years, came pouring out. “I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you for so long I don't remember what it feels like not to be.”
“Gryff.”
“Vegas wasn't practice for me. It was... it was everything. I gave you everything because I thought it was my only chance to show you how you should be loved. How I want to love you. Every day. Forever. If you'd let me.”
She was crying now, tears streaming down her face. “I can’t date Tyson.”
“What?”
“Tonight I couldn't even hold his hand because he wasn't you.” She took a shaky breath. “It's only ever been you. Even when I was dating other people, even when I thought I was broken at intimacy, it was because none of them were you.”
“Artie…”
“I love you,” she said, the words coming out in a rush. “I'm so in love with you it's eating me alive. Vegas wasn't about learning to be intimate. It was about being with you. You're the only person I've ever been able to be completely myself with.”
“Why didn't you say anything?”
“Why didn't you?” She laughed through her tears. “And why are we such idiots?”
“Complete idiots,” I agreed, moving closer. “I'm sorry I kept saying it was practice.”
“I'm sorry I let you.”
We were inches apart now. I felt her breath on my face, saw every tear track on her cheeks, felt her heart beating as if it was my own.
“I love you,” I said again, because now that I'd said it, I never wanted to stop.
“I love you too,” she whispered.
I cupped her face with both hands, thumbs wiping away her tears. “This is real?”
“So real.”
When I kissed her, it was different from every kiss we'd shared before. There was no pretense, no practice, no holding back. It was just us, finally being honest, finally letting ourselves have what we'd both wanted for so long.
She made a soft sound against my mouth and pressed closer, her arms coming around my neck. I backed her against the wall, needing to be closer, needing to make up for all the time we'd wasted.
“Wait,” she gasped, pulling back slightly. “How long? How long have you been in love with me?”
“I don't know, a long time,” I admitted. “But when you said yes to being my roommate, I realized I didn't want to do life without you. You?”
“Probably the same, but the bathtub incident that shall not be named clinched it for me,” she said, and I groaned.
“The bathtub?”
