Page 75 of The Love Trick

Kiss her.

My heart jolts at the thought. She’d probably smack me across the face at this point. I’ve royally messedeverythingup.

I make it to my Jeep and tear open the driver’s side door.

Maybe if I give it some time, we can talk again.

And maybe during that time, I can figure out how to be a good boyfriend.

It sounds so stupid, but it’s the truth. Everyone says I just need to keep doing what I’ve been doing with Addy, but being someone’s life partner, holding someone’s heart in your hands, is a huge responsibility. I was never taught how to do that. Most of the foster families I stayed with were dysfunctional, and love was never a priority.

How do you learn how to be a good boyfriend when you’ve never had a role model to show you what that looks like? How are you supposed to know what it takes to have a healthy relationship? Especially when it comes to opening up and talking about the hard stuff…

If there’s anyone I could do it with, it’d be Addy.

That thought causes my heart to squeeze as I start the engine and make the short drive back to my house. I pull into the garage and shut the door behind me. My eyes land on a pair of her tennis shoes in my garage, covered in mud from when we went hiking. She didn’t want to get her car dirty, so naturally, she left them in my garage.

I chuckle at the memory, then quickly frown.

There won’t be any more memories with her if I don’t fix this.

I swallow hard and swing the door open, stepping inside my empty house. It’s always empty.

Slipping through my living room, I catch sight of the only picture I have on display—one of Addy and me at Disney World. She bought the frame, put it together, and set it there on my shelf. I stare at it for several long seconds.

We look like a couple.

My heart thumps in my chest as I think back to our picnic on the beach. The same picnic I wastryingto make up for my mistake—but ended upkissing her again. What’s wrong with my head? Why did I do that?

I know why she dared me to kiss her.

She had feelings for me.

But whydidIwant to kiss her?

I shake my head as I make my way to my room and crash down on the bed, haunted by the memories of my body wrapped around hers while we slept in Hawaii. Her fingers perfectly interlaced with mine when we held hands. Her hips beneath my fingertips in the sand. The sweet taste of her lips on mine.

I mean, I’dneverdo those things with any other woman.

I’d never be interested in it.

I just want to do those things with Addy.

Because I’m in love with her, too.

My heart races at the thought.

I’ve gotten so good at swallowing my romantic feelings that I somehow convinced myself nothing I felt was anything more than just close friends.

But it’s so much deeper than that.

I want to be the one who she comes home to after a long day, and wakes up next to in the morning. The one who holds her hand through all of life’s ups and downs. The one who wipes away her tears and makes her laugh when she feels like crying. The one who makes her feel safe and cherished.

I roll over on my back and stare at the ceiling fan swirling overhead.

“I’m in love with you, too, Addy,” I say to the fan, wishing I’d been brave enough to say that to her face tonight.

I close my eyes, trying to figure out where to go from here. In my head, it’s easy. I’d just get up in the morning, drive over to her place with a massive bouquet of flowers, and tell her how sorry I am—and that I love her, too. I’d kiss her until neither of us could breathe.

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