Page 113 of The Kiss of Deception

Miles laughs more, harder, louder, and I hate that I love the sound so much.

“Look at us, two fools irrevocably in love, yet so afraid of loving each other.” Mirth makes his gray gaze glint—or maybe it’s the reciprocity—while he shakes his head, coming for me again. “I’m done pretending that I’m pretending, Zoe.”

He brushes my hair behind my back, securing my face in his hands to make sure his words penetrate.

“This, you and me, it was never just pretending. No matter what we’ve been saying all this time, no matter what excuses we’ve been hiding behind… it was never just pretending. Not for me.”

My heart stalls, stutters, sprints, unsure how to proceed, my lungs following the same script.

I knew he wanted me, though that didn’t mean he loved me. I knew he cared for me though that didn’t mean he was in love with me.

But didn’t I know all this time? Didn’t I see it?

I did, yet the smoke in my head snuffed out the hope in my chest as soon as it dared to be born. The ghosts in my head played with my demons, blinding me to what stood in front of my eyes.

All his actions are loud in their love for me, yet I chose, time and time again, to silence them with empty excuses and explanations.

“Please tell me you are not that great of an actress.”

Desperation drips in his voice; hope pools in his eyes, and I am undone.

“I don’t know when I stopped,” I whisper, “but I haven’t faked in a long time.” Longer than I’d be willing to admit. It had been long since it stopped being about Grandpa’s feelings—and it was all about mine.

“Yeah?” He’s so close that his chest punches against mine with every violent inhale, like he’s been living underwater holding his breath, and he finally found oxygen. Almost like he was scared too. “What else?”

“Haven’t I told you?”

“I’m hearing you’re in love with me. And that’s fan-fucking-tastic. Trust me, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear those words from your mouth.” He brushes my bottom lip with a rough thumb. “But it doesn’t mean you want me. Or this—us.”

Of course he wants to hear me say it word for word. I’ve spent so much time denying us that it’s only natural, his need for reassurance and clarity.

“I do. I want you. I want you so much I don’t even care that I don’t deserve you. You deserve—”

“Do you want—”

“Stop interrupting my love confession!” I interrupt his interruption, baring my teeth. “Dude, are you not listening?”

“I’m listening.” He smoothes the lines between my brows. “And what I hear is you trying to convince yourself that you’re not right for me. When I know for a fact that you are the only one for me. What I hear is, as you tell me you want this, you’re preparing yourself for my leaving. And I’m not letting you go. This is it, Zoe. I’m not letting you run away.”

My shoulders drop in defeat. Is he right? Of course, he is.

No matter how hard I run, this fear of abandonment always catches up, racing ahead of me and throwing itself on my way, tripping my feet.

“Miles… What do we do?”

“We make it work,” he answers. No hesitation, no reluctance, only utter conviction.

Work. This will take a lot of work. And I’m in for it.

Still, I must warn us. I must say, “This isn’t going to be easy.”

“Yeah, I kinda got the idea you’re the furthest thing from easy,” Miles says, all devilish dimples.

“I’m gonna have the urge to strangle you a lot. In fact, my fingers are itching right now.”

Grabbing my hand in his, he skims a digit over each one of my knuckles. “These pretty fingers would look prettier around my neck. All you have to do is ask.”

I snatch my hand, swatting his bicep. “I might actually injure you one of these days. Accidentally.”

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