Page 127 of Not in My Book

“None of it was.”

“It all was.” She hiccupped between her words. “I really hate you sometimes, Hunter, I really do.”

“Well, I hate you, too,” I said, softly. “I hate the way you laugh at every joke in a TV show, even if it isn’t funny, because I know you just get caught up in the moment. And I hate how you get caught up in the moment, too, because it feels like you go somewhere without me, and I wish I was your shadow so I could never be apart from you.”

She shook her head. “Hunter, it’s not that easy. I—”

“But I love you too,” I said softly. “I haven’t told you enough just how much I love you. I love the way you look at me and make me feel like you’re shining a spotlight on just me. I love the way you smile at me first thing in the morning, even though you’re not a morning person. And I love the way you always have to win every fight we have—and you can win, Maxine. You can win this one. Because I miss you more than I’ve ever dreamed of missing another person. And I’m sorry. I know I’m not easy to love, either. I’m too angry and jaded, but I want to be someone you can see yourself loving. The kind of guy that you instinctually look for. You can win every fight we ever have for the rest of time, just don’t give up on me.”

I tentatively grabbed her hands. She gripped them back tightly, her eyes shining with tears.

“You’re lucky you’re wearing your peacoat.”

I choked on a laugh, pulling her into my arms. Moments like these, when we were bundled up in each other and I had no clue where she started and I ended, made me believe in Happily Ever Afters.

Rosie, I’m sorry. I love you. You once told me that when you fell in love, you didn’t want to have to second-guess what you felt. I’ve never second-guessed what I feel for you. I know you prefer what’s in your books, and I pretend I don’t want to be like them, but I do. I want to be the person you picture when you’re reading and dreaming because you’re who I picture every single time. I love you. In light and dark, in romance and litfic. In this lifetime and the next.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

True to his word, Aiden was waiting for me at Honeybee Coffee. I’d read the final pages in five minutes, speeding through to read every word Aiden had written to me. Then I read it a second time, carefully analyzing each line because Aiden didn’t waste words. Then I read it until the sun set and there was no light left in my bedroom except for the streetlight in front of my house barely brightening the room.

Honeybee was closed now, Aiden’s car the only one in the parking lot. The hatchback of the car was open, and he was lying inside it on his back, his legs swinging back and forth, skimming the gravel.

When my car pulled into the lot, Aiden sat up and stepped out from his trunk. His suit jacket was off, his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi,” Aiden said cautiously.

My heart swelled at just the sight of him, the frantic hammer in my chest screaming at me that he loved me. That the imperfectly perfect man standing just a few feet away loved me, and he was here and wanted me like I wanted him.

“Before you say anything,” he said, “I want you to hear it from me because you deserve tohearit. You deserve more than a second-hand I love you. And I do—I love you. I love you so much. And I’m so sorry.If I could, I’d go back in time and change the way I handled everything so you knew how much I cherish what we had.”

“Aiden—”

“I’m sorry I was an asshole about the fellowship and that I’ve been an asshole about romance. I should’ve told you that I applied. I went to Ida first thing in January and tried to rescind my application because I knew by then how important this was to you, but she said the applications had already gone through, and I was too late. I wished every day I wouldn’t get it and then, when I did, I tried to pretend like it didn’t matter. But it did and it does and I’m sorry. You deserve everything I can’t give you, but I swear every single day, I’ll try.”

I didn’t say anything, I just pulled the two sheets of papers from behind my back and stepped toward him, handing him his copy.

He frowned. “What’s this?”

“You wrote your last chapter, and I wrote mine.”

He looked down at me, a little dazed it seemed, and carefully took the paper, slowly unfolding it. I watched his green eyes skim the first few lines until they snapped up to meet mine.

“Rosie—”

“I’ve got mine, too,” I said. I held up my stack of papers and cleared my throat. “Hi.”

When he continued to stare at me, I nodded at his paper, prodding him to continue.

“Hi,” he read.

“I’ve spent my whole life defending what I love. Prepared to jump to the defense of romance with nothing else in sight. But it wasn’t fair for me to not celebrate your success. Love should be come hell or high water, and I’m here for all of it with you. I’m sorry. I should’ve listened to you instead of just running away when it all got too hard. But the truth is I’m scared. Because you’re right that I’ve set every expectation too high, but it’s because I’m scared of showing who I am and for it to not be enough. I’ve always wanted to be someone somebody canlove.Not just like or admire, butlove.I’ve yearned to find someone who looks for me in crowded streets and smiles in relief. Or wishes for me every chance they get. Someone who genuinely knows me and wants to figure out how to know more. But I feel like I never figured out how togivelove, too.”

Aiden looked down at his paper and said, “Do I really have to start a sentence only for you to interrupt me?”

“Yes.”

---