Page 180 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

He realizes he interrupted something when he notices the tears coating Hadley’s cheeks.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t know—”

I cut in. “Get out. We’re busy.”

“This can’t wait. Meet me downstairs in a few?” he presses, and I know the bastard’s not going to drop it until I hear him out.

“Fine,” I say dryly.

I don’t even wait for him to close my bedroom door before directing my focus back to Hadley.

“I believe you were in the middle of saying something.”

Her lips curl into a grin. “Was I? I don’t remember.”

“If that’s how you want to play it.”

I’m pinning her under me before she has a chance to protest, caging her in with my arms and relishing in her laughter as I bring my forehead to hers.

“Hadley,” I warn, needing to hear her say it back.

“What?” She plays dumb.

“Finish what you started.”

She has me on the edge of my fucking seat.

Then she says it.

“I love you, too.”

I was wrong.

This is better than anything I’ve ever done.

Better than performing, better than playing music.

Nothing can top this.

“Not to sound like a girl, but I just threw my bleeding fucking heart at your feet, and that’s all you’re going to give me?”

A chuckle escapes her. “What more do you want?”

“Like, how much are we talking? Do you love me a little? A lot? You’ve got to give me something.”

She responds by pecking the corner of my mouth. “I’ve loved you almost as long as I’ve been alive. If that doesn’t tell you what you want to know, nothing will.”

That’s what I wanted to hear.

We must make out for over five minutes. I have every intention of fucking her into this mattress until I remember that Scar’s waiting downstairs.

Goddamn it.

I’m ninety-nine percent sure I know what he wants to talk about.

It’s always the same shit these days.

Do you know what you’re doing?

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