Page 83 of Not So Happily Ever After (British Bad Boys)
“Look. About yesterday. Bringing your stuff back was just an excuse to see you.”
I might’ve half guessed that, but I never expected him to admit it. “Since when do you need an excuse to see me?”
He frowns as though my question doesn’t make sense. “I didn’t think you’d want to after the things I said on Saturday.”
Don’t melt all over the table.“Well, I said some nice things, too.”
At least he smiles at that. “No. You told me stuff you’d never told anyone else. And I just chucked that in your face like it didn’t mean anything to me. That’s why I’m sorry. It’s what I wanted to say to you last night, but I couldn’t find the words.”
There’s a strange tickling sensation in my throat. His wordsdidrip me apart, but I never expected he would realize how badly he’d hurt me. “Apology accepted.” And I owe him one, too. “I feel terrible about the way I behaved. I just got so tied up in knots over the whole art exhibition thing.”
“You’re not a mind reader. It’s not like I told you what was happening.” He pauses. “Even though I wanted to.”
“But I should’ve been there for you.”
“What are you talking about? You’ve always been here for me.”
That’s one of the nicest things he’s ever said to me, even if itisan exaggeration. Before I can tell him that, the door swings open, and a couple of my friends breeze in.Nooo.I don’t want to share Will with them yet.
I get up and give them a hug. “Can you give me five? I’ll be right with you.”
They give him speculative glances before making their way to the bar. I let out a relieved breath and return to our table.
He gives his beer a brooding look. “Thing is, Mac. What I said on Saturday about not wanting us to split up.” He drags his gaze from his beer, and I just about dissolve from the heat in his gorgeous dark eyes. “Now you’re not at Oxford, I need to know if there’s a chance we could get back together.”
I don’t think I can bear just being friends-with-benefits.
It’s no good. I want to be with him more than anything, but things are different now. I don’t want to keep our relationship a secret. If we’re going to sleep together, I want commitment. “Will.” I only just stop myself from taking his hand, and I flatten my fingers on the table between us instead. “You talk about us splitting up. But we were never really together, were we?”
“I know.” There’s a hollow note in his voice that tears me up. “After what happened with Jenna, I was so sure I didn’t want to get serious with anyone else. And you only wanted a fling because of Uni. But I have to tell you. I was wrong. I’ve always been serious about you.”
Oh my God. Did he really just say that?
“Have you?” My voice is a whisper, and I don’t even care that my question is the dumbest ever.
He looks as though he’s about to face his executioner. “I need to know if I stand a chance with you, now you’ve changed your plans.”
I can’t even find adequate words to think, never mind say. I grip his hand and hang on tight, in case he vanishes if I’m not touching him.
In case this is just a lucid dream and not the best birthday present I’ve ever had.
He squeezes my fingers. “You not speaking isn’t a bad sign, right?”
I sniff. “You want to date me for realandgo public with it?”
“I’ll sky-write it above Notting Hill if you want.”
“I might hold you to that.”
He grins. “Is that a yes, then?”
I shake my head. “Come here.” I tug his hand across the table, and he leans toward me. Our kiss is featherlight, but I feel it all the way down to my toes. “That’s a yes, Will.”
He pulls back, and we gaze at each other. I’m sure we look completely besotted, but I don’t care that, from the bar, my friends are making whooping sounds our way.
“I got you something for your birthday.” For some reason, he seems unsure. Does he think I won’t like what he’s got me? Seriously, I’m stoked he got meanything.
He pulls an envelope from his pocket and slides it across the table. Intrigued, I pick it up and pull out a cream, embossed card.
