Page 82 of One Billion Reasons

“What did you say?”

“About what?” He presses a kiss to my lips and my body goes loose. No, focus.

“I’m the only one you’ve ever wanted?” My heart is thudding in my chest, slow and loud in my ears. If this is true, it means everything.

“It’s true.” His mouth kicks up at the side.

I search his face. His eyes, warm and full of affection. His soft mouth, relaxed and happy, for once. Nerves swirl in my stomach. I love him. I love him and I need to tell him.

His hand comes up to brush my cheek. “What’s that look, Laney?”

I love you. I can’t bear to be the one who begs, but for Miles, I’ll do anything. If both of us are stuck, we’ll never move forward. Maybe he needs the encouragement. Maybe he needs to hear it first. I take a deep breath, needing the courage.

“Miles.” My heart is thudding. I tip my head back to look him in the eye. I can do this. I think of all the times he wouldn’t let me see his weaknesses, of every time he was convinced he had to be strong for everyone around him. This is what he needs. I can be brave enough to take this step for both of us.

“I love you.”

His eyes go wide, and he takes a stumbling step back. “Lane. No.”

I suck in a breath. No. It feels like I’ve taken a knife to the gut.

“What do you mean, no?” My voice cracks on the last word. It’s happening again. With him of all people. After he told me not to fall in love with him.

His mouth twists. “I’m sorry.”

I shove off the rock and grab my dress. “What was all this then? Just fake? Just practice?” I gesture at the rock. My stomach is dipping and rolling, but I hold myself still while I wait for his answer. Please, Miles.

“It was never supposed to be permanent. We talked about that,” he says gently. The softness of his words cuts deeper than anger could.

It was never supposed to permanent, but I can’t imagine going back to being just friends.

“I can’t give you what you need. I’m sorry, Lane.” He’s shaking his head and the breath whooshes from my chest. I told him I loved him and he said he was sorry. I steel myself. This is worth fighting for. He is worth fighting for.

“We have something real. You feel it, too. And now you’re going to what? Disappear?” I feel fragile, like his next words might break me in two.

His jaw works. “I’ll always be there for you, Lane. I’ll always protect you.”

He shoves into his suit pants without looking at me. Irritation flares. I welcome it.

“Protect me? When have I ever asked to be protected? I’d rather have your love.”

“This is—” he swallows. “All I can give you. Protection. Isn’t that enough?” His voice is pleading.

I stalk toward him. “I love the way you make me feel. You love it too. We could be good together. You’re really going to give that up?” His eyes flare with emotion. Anger, maybe. Or possessiveness. Good. I want to push him, so he realizes what he’s doing to us. “You’ve taught me about pleasure. Now I’ll know how to recognize it.” A lie. No man can compare to Miles.

A low noise comes from his throat. “Enough taunting. I’ll kill anyone who touches you. I’m done pretending to be anything but ruthless. You’re mine.” His eyes shine with unholy light. He bares his teeth.

“You won’t be with me, but you’ll kill anyone who touches me? That’s bullshit.” My voice is shaking and I suck in a lungful of air. “I’m sick of hearing I’m yours and that you’d do anything for me. That I’m the only woman you’ve ever wanted. But nothing permanent. Nothing real.” My voice is rising, but I don’t care. “I don’t understand why you—”

“I’m obsessed with you, okay?” He shouts the words. His eyes are wild. “Against my better judgment. I tried to stop. But it didn’t work.”

“What do you mean you tried to stop?” My pulse is fluttering in my throat. I don’t want this. I don’t want a forced confession, or the way he seems to hate how he feels. The way he can’t even name it.

“Do you think I like this? Do you think I enjoy how deep you are under my skin?” He shoves a hand through his hair. “I have been obsessed with you since I was twenty. Twenty. That’s ten years of being distracted every time I saw you on social media. Ten years of waiting for you to notice me. Ten years of hating myself for being a creep when you counted on me to be your family.”

“Ten years?” I whisper.

He nods shortly. He hates this. His eyes are shadowed, and his face is tense. “Do you want to know why I stopped having sex?” His voice is low and rough. I nod, even though I sense something terrible is about to happen. “Because the first time I slept with my then-girlfriend, I pictured you.” He laughs, a small, unhappy laugh. “It’s fucked-up. But the most fucked-up part? Picturing you made it better.” His voice is rising. “Do you know why my reputation is shit? Why I’m such an asshole? Why I never want to be in love? Because when we had that fight, everything changed for me. When you stopped talking to me, the world went dark. I’ve never felt weaker in my life, and I never want to feel that way again.”

---