Page 61 of The Loophole

I wrapped my arms around him more securely. “I’d never do that, Em.”

His voice caught as he whispered, “You don’t know how bad it is.”

“It doesn’t matter. Absolutely nothing could stop me from thinking you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever known.”

After a moment, he glanced over his shoulder at me. “I feel ridiculous, sitting in a bath with a shirt on. And I know you’re not the type of guy to reject me for something like this. But that’s happened to me before, and it made me really self-conscious.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

He shifted around so he was facing me and said, “I’m just going to get it over with and show you. If you think I look gross, I’ll wear a shirt from now on. Okay?”

“Do whatever makes you comfortable, Em. No pressure.”

He pulled off his tank top and clutched it to his chest. His slumped shoulders and the way he hung his head broke my heart. He hesitated before finally lowering the wet fabric, exposing an old, faded scar that covered most of his chest. The skin was uneven and his nipples were misshapen, but it really wasn’t that bad—to me, anyway. To him, it came with a lifetime of negative emotions, so it seemed worse than it was. “Go ahead and say it. I know I’m hideous,” he whispered, looking completely defeated.

“No, you’re not.” I sat up and ran my hands down his arms, in what I hoped was a comforting gesture. “That scar doesn’t make you ugly, Em. It makes you a survivor, and it shows you’re so much stronger than you realize.” I couldn’t stand the thought of how much it must have hurt, or how easily a burn like that could have killed him at such a young age.

He glanced at me from under his lashes. “It does?” I nodded, but he wasn’t ready to let go of the negative messages he’d been telling himself for years. “It was all my fault, though. I’m too clumsy, and?—”

“It wasn’t your fault. You told me you werethree years oldwhen you got burned, Em. If we’re looking for someone to blame, I’m going with the adult who should have been looking out for you.”

“The end result is the same though, no matter who’s to blame. I look horrible.”

“You’re wrong. That scar can’t touch how beautiful you are, inside and out.”

He’d lowered his gaze, but then he ventured another glance at me. “You still think I’m beautiful?”

“Of course I do. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, Em. You’re ethereal.”

He flung himself into my arms, and as I hugged him he murmured, “Thank you for saying that.”

“It’s the truth.”

After we finished our bath, we both put on warm, comfortable sweats and went downstairs to the kitchen. Since we’d been planning to have dinner at my uncle’s house, I didn’t have anything special on the menu. But there were enough ingredients to make savory crepes with a cheese filling, along with a side of roasted root vegetables. I also made mini tartlets for dessert, using some cherries I’d frozen at the height of their season.

Embry watched closely while I prepared dinner, eagerly tasting the samples I offered him along the way. He still treated every meal I made like it was a big deal.

We ate side-by-side at the kitchen island, our barstools so close that we were almost touching. Afterwards, I made him some hot chocolate, and we went into the lounge and curled up together on the couch.

“I have a silly little fantasy,” he said, after a while.

“Tell me.”

“I love it when you feed me while you’re cooking. Would it be weird if I said I wanted to eat an entire meal that way?”

“That sounds wonderful. When should we do it?”

“Surprise me.”

“Okay.”

Embry put his head on my chest and admitted, “I’d been thinking about that dinner idea for a while. I was too embarrassed to bring it up, but after tonight, I feel like I can tell you anything.”

I knew what he meant. Something had shifted between us this evening. Our connection felt deeper and stronger than ever before. The sex might have had something to do with it, but I thought it was because we’d both let our guard down and allowed ourselves to be vulnerable, especially Embry.

It made me happy and optimistic—two things I hadn’t felt in a very long time.

16

---