Page 91 of Under Pressure

“I, um,” he starts, shifting his feet and swallowing heavily. “I started seeing a therapist.”

Now that grabs my attention. “You did?”

“I spoke with her on the phone yesterday and then went in for an appointment today.”

I hold my breath, watching him wrestle with whatever it is he’s trying to express.

“I’m tired of living my life closed off. You made me see I want more.”

“And what do you want, Tyler?”

He looks me fully in the eye, no hesitation on his face. “You.”

My hardened heart softens, my body physically swaying toward him for a moment before I stop myself.

“Some, uh, revelations about my family prompted it too,” he continues, “and I realized I need to open up and trust, especially to the people who have shown me over and over again they’re worth it.”

He steps closer, running a thumb down my cheek, his gaze tender. “I’m not claiming to be cured or anything. I know I still have a lot of work to do. But you are the most amazing person I’ve ever met.” He cups my face more fully, his touch everything I’ve been missing from my life. “And I want to explore this thing we have further. If you’ll give me another chance.”

I swallow back tears, giddy with hope. “Are you saying you want a relationship?”

He nods. “I want to be your boyfriend,” he whispers, so full of longing, it makes my chest physically ache. “If you’ll have me.” He’s calm and steady now, no hint of the previous steadfast refusal to acknowledge what’s been going on between us.

My body yearns to hug him close, pepper his face with kisses, and demand him to take me here and now.

But my heart… I still can’t let go of the number of times he’s claimed he doesn’t want a girlfriend. “How can I be sure you won’t have a change of heart?”

His face drops, dejected. “That last time… in bed… you asked me to trust you. I’m asking you now to do the same. Even though it’s completely unfair.” He reaches for my hand and I let him, intertwining our fingers together. “I can’t guarantee the future, but I do know I’m going to work on my trust issues, and that includes putting my trust in you, no matter what you decide to do with it. My—” His voice falters for a moment before he continues on, looking me in the eye. “My heart is in your hands.”

My own heart melts at the sentiment, his vulnerability. Has he ever exposed himself like this with someone before?

I step closer, every movement increasing the hope in his eyes, and place a hand over the left side of his chest. “You can trust me with it.”

He leans forward, groaning as his lips meet mine for the first time in weeks. There’s urgency lurking behind his kiss, but he keeps his movements slow, purposeful, cradling my face tenderly. “I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers. “I didn’t realize how deep under my skin you were until you weren’t there anymore.”

He doesn’t give me a chance to respond as he backs me up against the wall, his hands in my hair now, teasing my mouth with light strokes of his tongue. The way he kisses me, it feels richer somehow, deeper. Like he’s truly making an effort to emotionally connect with me.

I moan, greedy for him, then remember myself, untangling from his hold. “I’ve spent weeks trying to get over you. You’ll have to give me a minute to process all this.”

He nods regretfully, sticking his hands in his jeans pockets.

I bite my lip, watching him anxiously await what I’ll say. As if I’m the one who determines his fate. I admit, the power is heady.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

He startles, eyes narrowing. “A date?”

I smile at him. “Yeah, you know that thing where two people who like each other go out?”

He grins back at me, cupping my face gently. “This is so far past just liking, but yes. I want to go on a thousand dates with you. A million. Every night. I can’t imagine ever running out of things to say to you.”

My breath catches at his sensual tone, the tender look in his eye. I can only focus on so much though, going back to what he first said. “It’s past liking?”

“God, yes. Do you think I could stand here and say all this with just anybody? I couldn’t stop this from happening with you, no matter how hard I tried.” There’s a softness in his face I’ve rarely seen, lending added meaning to his words. “I love you, Mia.”

A hiccuping sob escapes me, along with immediate tears that drip down my face in hot splashes. I wasn’t expecting any of this. It’s almost more than I can take.

His softness morphs into concern. “Was that the wrong thing to say? Was it too soon? I thought you’d want to know—”

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