Page 74 of The Promises We Broke
"Stop." I squeezed his hand. "I don't want apologies. I want promises. I want to know that if I let myself fall in love with you again, you won't disappear the first time things get difficult."
"I promise," he said immediately. "I swear to you, on my grandfather's grave, on everything I hold sacred. I will never leave you like that again. Whatever happens, whatever we face, we face it together. I will stay and fight for us instead of running away."
The sincerity in his voice, the steadiness in his eyes, it was enough to crack the last of my careful defenses.
"Okay," I whispered.
"Okay?"
"Okay, I want to try. I want to see what we could be now, as adults, with everything we've learned and everything we've lost and everything we've found again. I don't want to pretend we're only friends, I don't want casual and slow. I want it all. I want you, Gage."
The smile that spread across his face was radiant. "Really?"
"Really. But Gage?"
"Yeah?"
"You might have to be patient with me. Because I... this might be difficult for me."
"I can be patient," he said, bringing my hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles. "I can be anything you need me to be."
"I don't need you to be anything but yourself," I said. "The real you, not some perfect version you think I want."
"The real me is pretty messed up," he warned with a self-deprecating smile.
"Good," I said, surprising us both. "I don't want perfect. I want real."
His arm came around my shoulders and he pulled me into his side. My head nestled against his chest and I sighed at the solid feel of him beside me. We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of our conversation settling between us like a bridge we'd just agreed to build together.
"So," I said finally, "what happens now?"
"Now," he said, "I walk you to your bedroom door like a gentleman and kiss you goodnight and try not to think about how much I want to stay."
Heat flooded my cheeks. "And tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow I take you to lunch and hold your hand across the table and let the whole town see that Billie Schulster is giving Gage Farrington a second chance."
"It's not like they didn't just see that at the festival. Kissing me on the dance floor wasn't exactly subtle. They'll be talking about this for weeks."
"Let them talk." He stood and pulled me to my feet, his hands settling on my waist. "I'm proud to be seen with you. I want everyone to know how lucky I am."
I looked up at him, this man who'd broken my heart and was now offering to help me put it back together, and felt something click into place in my chest.
"Kiss me," I said.
"Billie..."
"Not goodnight. Not goodbye. Kiss me like you mean it. Like you're staying."
He stared at me for a moment, searching my face for something. Whatever he found there must have satisfied him, because he cupped my face in his hands and leaned down until his forehead was resting against mine.
"I love you," he whispered. "I never stopped loving you."
"I love you too," I whispered back, and felt the last of my walls crumble. "I tried to stop, but I couldn't."
When he kissed me, it was nothing like the sweet, careful kiss we'd shared at the festival. This was deeper, hungrier, full of ten years of longing and the promise of all the tomorrows we were choosing to believe in.
I melted into him, my hands fisting in his shirt, and he pulled me closer until there was no space left between us. He tasted like hot chocolate and promises, and when he traced my lower lip with his tongue, I made a sound that was half whimper, half plea.
