Page 116 of The Longshot

“Believe him?” I can’t seem to comprehend exactly what she’s saying. “What are you talking about?”

“Simon.” She shakes her head, visibly betrayed by herself. “He convinced me that you hadn’t shown because you were off with someone else.”

I jerk my neck back in disbelief as I’m reminded of Simon’s accusation, the only real accusation of the night.

I would never cheat on Chelsie. I’d be stupid to. I made her a promise when I said that I’d never hurt her. That I’d never ever let anything happen to her, and that’s the truth. That will always and forever be the truth.

“Cheating?” I’m almost at a loss for words at this point. “I would never… you know I would never…”

“I know.” Chelsie falls off my lap and wipes away her tears. “I… I know you wouldn’t, Gary. I know.”

“Then why did you believe him?” I question. “What did Simon say to you, Chels?”

Chelsie shakes her head, and she can hardly look me in the eyes as she rests a hand on her forehead. “I knew better than to ever trust anything Simon says, but before he said anything, I was at the train station where I saw a group of girls all wearing Crawfield shirts, saying things about you…”

“About me?” I raise a suspecting brow. “Things like what?”

“Things about your past,” she clarifies. “About how many girls you’ve been with. About how you were recently just with one—Felicity.”

My stomach drops to my feet at the familiarity of the name, but before I can clarify that that “fling”, if that’s even what you want to call it, was before the two of us even got together, Chelsie continues.

“I didn't want to focus on it, Gary, but then Simon had this picture of you. A picture of you kissing another girl. He said it was recent. Felicity said your thing was recent. I got scared, worried. I felt like I had no other choice than to connect the dots. I know you’d never hurt me, but… what was I to think?”

“Oh, Chelsie.” I pull her back in, soothingly rubbing up and down her spine before I whisper against her forehead. “I never cheated on you, I swear. Whatever Simon showed you would’ve been taken before we were ever together, I swear, baby girl.”

I look directly into her doe eyes.

“But the truth is, yes, I did spend a night with a girl named Felicity. That was the night I was going to Tenners with the lads. The day we had that conversation outside of the bakery, and I blew my chances. I was a mopey mess at the bar and one thing led to another, and Felicity and I started making out. By the end of the night, I don’t know how it happened but somehow, she ended up coming back to my place, but we didn’t sleep together. I can promise you that. Christ, that morning, all the two of us did was speak about you.”

“Me?” Chelsie tilts her head to the side. “What do you mean you spoke about me?”

I run a hand through my hair. Shit, I really just admitted that, didn’t I. Well, here goes nothing.

“I couldn’t help but talk about you, Chelsie. All I could do was think about you. Hell, I was on an internet deep dive that morning trying to figure out why I was such an idiot when we were talking. I felt like I’d blown it. I wanted you, Chelsie. I wanted you so badly. I always have. From the moment we first met, I felt it. I knew it.”

The way Chelsie’s eyes soften is enough to make me believe that not only is she hearing what I’m saying, but she’s feeling just how sincere my words are. It’s not enough, I need her to know.

“The fact is, I don’t care what people call me. If they want to say I was a man-whore then let them. I was. But it was never about sleeping with the most women, Chels. It was always about one thing—finding the person I belong to.”

I run my hands along her face before they trail down her arms, and finally, they secure themselves around her waist.

“And the truth is, I belong to you, Chelsie. I’m yours, baby girl. I’ve been waiting for the day where love found me, but in reality, I found love. I found you, and I don’t care if it’s too soon, or terrible timing. I can’t hold back from telling you any longer. I love you, Chelsie,” I finally admit those three words that I’ve been dying to say. That I’ve been saving to say to the person that they were always meant for.

Her.

“I love you when you smile. I love you when you laugh. I love you even when you’re mad at me. I love you on your good days, and I love you on your bad. Christ…” I brush away a single tear that rolls down her cheek. “I love you when you cry, even though…” My heart sinks. “Nothing pains me more.”

She lets out the faintest laugh as a flush shade of pink rises to her cheeks.

She’s perfect—she’s beautiful—she's mine.

“I love you, Chelsie.” I press my forehead against hers, kissing the tip of her nose softly. “I. Love. You.”

Without skipping a beat, she presses her lips against mine. I can feel the residual dampness of her cheeks as our lips move in sync, yet all I can think about is how long I’ve waited for this moment.

I’ve waited for that someone who wakes you up in the morning and puts you to bed at night.

I’ve waited for that someone who consumes your thoughts every hour of every day.

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