Page 73 of Before I Loved You

Her eyes widen. “Stop saying you like me.”

“Why?”

“Because—”

I press two fingers to her lips.

“You’re going to say something to try to push me away. It’s a defense mechanism you have. And I’m telling you right now, it won’t work anymore.”

Her eyes water the slightest bit, revealing how right I am.

“I know you’re scared. You’ve repeatedly told me that you don’t do relationships, but that’s not true, is it?”

Her eyes close as defeat dances across her features.

“You’ve never been in a relationship because you keep your guard up. It’s not that you don’t do them; you don’t allow anyone to get close to you. But guess what?”

I remove my fingers from her lips.

“What?” she whispers.

“I’m not just anyone.”

Her big green eyes pierce mine.

“I’m the guy who will change that for you.”

Her body relaxes beside me as she takes in my words. “Okay,” she breathes.

“Okay?” I ask, a little shocked. “Just like that?”

She closes her eyes. “I’m tired of fighting this.” Her eyes open, vulnerability flashing across them. “But can we start slow? I just have some things I need to…figure out first.” She looks down, her hands fisting the blanket.

I grip her chin lightly, angling her face up toward mine. “We can go as slow as you want. Although we have covered all the bases…”

She shakes her head, but there’s a small smile on her face.

“And Sarah, if you ever refer to yourself as less than me again, we’re going to have a problem. I never want to hear the words ‘I’m nobody’ coming out of your mouth when you’re everything to me. Understood?” My thumb floats over her parted bottom lip.

She swallows and then hesitantly nods. “Yes.”

“Good. And you’re coming to Thanksgiving at my family’s house. It’s only a thirty-minute drive from the city in the suburbs.”

“That doesn’t really feel like starting slowly to me…”

“If I tell them we’re just friends, will that make you more comfortable to come over?”

She bites her lower lip and nods.

“Okay. Then that’s what I’ll do.”

“Thank you.” She reaches up, placing the palm of her hand against my cheek. Her thumb brushes over my stubble as her eyes fixate on my lips.

I lean down before I can stop myself, pressing my lips to hers. I can feel her body melt against mine until, suddenly, she pulls apart.

She looks down. Anywhere but at me. “What about all those other girls?”

“What other girls?”

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