Page 73 of Follow Your Bliss

She stiffened and my heart kicked into my throat.

She pulled back and peered sleepily down into my face. “What did you say?”

I paused, fear spreading from my heart to my toes. Rose wasn’t the marrying type, but was she up for commitment? I threaded my fingers through hers, twisting the rings still on her finger from last night. She was what I wanted. Why not tell her?

I gulped. “I said, ‘I love you so fucking much.’” I studied her wide eyes. “And I meant it.”

She parted her lips, a deer startled in the woods who was clearly not ready to hear those words from me. Seconds ticked by as she studied my face intently. I bit my lip to stop myself from taking them back. Because they were true. I felt them down to my core.

She tucked her hair behind one ear, fake wedding rings flashing in the morning sun. “Jason, I don’t know…”

“It’s okay.” I smoothed her hair from the other side of her face. “You don’t have to say it back. You don’t have to feel it back.” Even though each of her silent seconds was a little death.

“Kiss me,” she murmured.

So I did. She climbed up, pushing my back to the bed and straddling me. If we were only physical to her, surely she wouldn’t be licking the inside of my mouth like this right after my declaration, rolling her hips against my sex. If she wasn’t open to more, surely she would’ve just run from my bed in horror.

Right?

She wouldn’t be holding my face like this and kissing me like I meant the world to her unless she felt something too. Whimpering, she threw her head back and tipped her rosy nipple against my lips. I captured her breast in my mouth. If she didn’t want me to tell her how I felt about her, I’d show her.

Rose

Jason loved me, and all I wanted to do was cry. From the bliss and beauty of making love, the wildness of our release, the raw emotion surging in my chest. And afterwards, he kissed the top of my head and squeezed me, and I almost broke.

Jason loved me. And I didn’t know if I loved him back.

I murmured my thanks as he set a mug of coffee and a legal-sized pad beside his laptop where I was viewing the photos we took yesterday. I picked the mug up gratefully. Of course he’d fixed it exactly the way I liked it, and Lord knows I needed the caffeine.

He sat down beside me and smiled shyly, reaching past me to grab a pen with a ringless hand. He’d taken the fake band off before his shower, but it’d been there the whole time we made love. Mine too.

My heart thudded. Jason loved me.

Or…did he? He probably didn’tmeanit, mean it. Of the few men who’d ever said it, most of them just wanted to get me into bed or keep me in bed. Of the infinitesimal number who may’ve meant it, zero of them meant it for long.

Maybe the problem wasn’t that Jason loved me and I didn’t love him. The problem was that he was a man, and I didn’t believe himcapableof loving me. So how could I really love him?

Sipping from his own mug, he sat and leaned into my space with his arm around my chair. “What I like to do is make a list of my favorites, and then start writing down what the posts can be about. Wow, those are gorgeous.”

“You did such a great job. I think you’d give Lily a run for her money.”

“Nah, it’s not my photography skills. It’s the beautiful subject.” He pressed a kiss to my temple. “Finding a lot you want to use?”

I’d never known a man to be as affectionate as him, especially when he wasn’t actively trying to get my clothes off. A definite point in thehe might actually love mecolumn.

“Yeah! I think we got at least one to three good ones for each dress, which is amazing. I wish my other wedding dress had survived the storm, but I do still have that photo of Leslie’s gown to post.”

“And Becca’s, after the wedding. Ooh.” His index finger lightly poked the screen. “That one of you in front of the tattoo parlor is gorgeous.”

“That one’s great, but look at this hot one of us kissing here in the church.”

“Oh wow.” He reached across me and double-tapped the photo so that it filled the screen. “That’s my favorite.” He leaned his head against mine.

“It’s perfect. We both look amazing, and the gown—look at the fall of the lace, the way you can see the back of it.” I imagined the StudFinders contract unrolling between us like a royal proclamation.

He moved away and rubbed the back of his neck. “Can we not…post that one?”

My heart sank. “I guess Big Brother StudFinders wouldn’t like that.” I tried to say it flippantly, but even I heard the hurt in my voice.

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