Page 184 of The Blame Game

“What?” Shea blinked, suddenly shaky. Was he dreaming?

“I know we’ve—we’ve come a long way since we first met.” Dom smiled a little. “And when you moved in here, it was because of the PR stuff. But you have to know how I feel. How much you matter to me. And I know I haven’t done a good job showing that to you but I will. I will if you’ll let me.”

“Dom,” Shea whispered, barely believing this was happening.

Dom lifted their clasped hands to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to Shea’s knuckles. “I’m never going to be the guy who shouts my love for you from the rooftops. That’s not me, but I want you to know that I do love you.”

He took a deep breath. “You don’t have to say it back if you don’t want. If you don’t feel it too, but I hope—”

Shea blinked back tears, rasping, “Dom. I’ve been wanting to tell you that for months. Maybe a year. I don’t know exactly how long, but—”

“What?”

Shea sighed. “You ridiculous, stubborn, closed-off man, I’ve been in love with you for so fucking long and I’ve been trying to be patient, hoping you’d get there too.”

“Say it, please,” Dom whispered. “Say the words.”

Shea smiled, reaching out with his free hand to brush his fingers along Dom’s cheek before tucking his hair behind his ear. “I love you, Dominic Olson.”

Dom trembled. “I love you too. God, Shea, you have no idea …”

He leaned in, pressing their lips together. His lips were soft and tender against Shea’s, careful and reverent.

When they drew apart, Dom was smiling. There was a light in his eyes that Shea had never seen before.

Shea didn’t want to make that light go out, not for anything, but there was one thing Dom needed to know. “When you woke up after your surgery, you told me you loved me,” he admitted.

Dom blinked. “I did?”

“Yeah.” Shea nodded. “I hoped you meant it but I wanted to give you time to be ready to say it when you weren’t under the influence.”

Dom gave him a crooked smile. “Huh. It seems like I get very honest when I’m impaired.”

“You do,” Shea agreed.

Dom’s smile became a frown. “But I don’t want that to be the only time I’m honest with you.”

“You’re sober now, right?” Shea asked.

Dom rubbed his face. “Yeah. Hungover but sober.”

“Then we’re off to a good start,” Shea assured him.

Dom pulled him close. “God, I don’t deserve you,” he whispered against Shea’s temple. “But I want to. I want to be better for you.”

Shea carded his fingers through Dom’s hair. “How about we both try to do our best?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” But Dom drew back a little, his frown deepening. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Anything you want.”

“Didn’t it hurt you?” Dom asked, softly rubbing his thumb across Shea’s cheek. He looked worried. “Loving someone who couldn’t say it back?”

“I felt your love sometimes,” Shea said quietly. “I wasn’t sure but I thought—well, the night of the fire, and what you did after the JockGossip article …”

“Yeah?”

Shea nodded. “You might not have said it until recently but you showed it.”

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