Page 57 of Fake It Till We Fall
The way Harper had come apart in my arms. The way her body fit mine, like it always had. Only better now. The way her eyes had locked on mine like she was feeling every ounce of what was racing through me.
I’d tried to deny it.
I’d tried to ignore it.
But I couldn’t help it.
I was in love with her.
I always had been.
For years, I’d told myself letting her go—pushing her away—was an act of love. I told her I didn’t care. I pretended I didn’t want her so she’d leave town and chase her dreams. I’d been young and stupid and full of bravado. But even at eighteen, I’d known that if I hadn’t done it, Harper would have given up her dreams for me.
It had damn near broken me, but at the time, I’d been so sure I was doing the right thing.
Now, lying with her in my arms again, something I never dreamed I could have, I no longer knew whether I’d done either of us any favors.
I also didn’t have any idea how it was going to end this time.
The one thing Ididknow was that no matter how many times I’d tried to tell myself it wasn’t real, I knew with certainty that, at least for me, it was.
She shifted against me, sighing softly. I let the sound sink deep into my bones. If this was all I got, I’d damn well make it last as long as I could.
Chapter Fifteen
Harper
Iwoke before dawn, my head on his chest, right where it had been when I drifted off to sleep the night before. At some point, we’d moved from the rug in front of the fire to the luxurious king-sized bed.
I could remember not wanting to close my eyes, not wanting the night to end, unsure what the new day would bring.
Had we made a mistake and gone too far?
Being with Grayson never felt like a mistake, but…
For a long moment, I let myself lie still, listening to his steady breathing, feeling his heart beat beneath me, before I moved out from under his arm to look at him properly.
He slept on his back. His features seemed softer in sleep. Almost boyish again. The same boy I’d fallen in love with all those years ago. Only he wasn’t a boy anymore.
My chest ached as I studied him, letting myself imagine what might have been if I’d never left all those years ago.
Would we still be happy in Trickle Creek together?
Would we be married? Have children?
Would I have gone to culinary school?
Would we have traveled together? Or stayed and put down roots?
I knew the answers to some of those questions; others I could only guess at before my thoughts shifted to whatcouldbe if it were realthistime.
What would it be like waking up to Grayson every morning?
Having coffee in bed before he went to the store, and me to the restaurant.
Would we spend our weekends curled up together, content with a simple life? Or would we be planning adventures, eager to travel together?
Would a small-town life be enough after all this time? Or would I always yearn for more?
