Page 83 of His Heart

Sebastian

Brooke’s breathingwas slow and even, her body warm against mine. I caressed her silky skin and took a deep breath, smelling her hair. Her scent was warm and feminine. Intoxicating.

The darkness and quiet sheltered us, as if nothing existed beyond the feel of her in my arms. I was relaxed—sated in a way I’d never been before. It was more than the physical release of an orgasm. More than the glow of amazing sex—and it had been amazing. I’d felt something deeper as I made love to her. Something primal—maybe even spiritual. As if our souls had mingled while our bodies connected.

I wasn’t sure if she knew it, but I’d given her a piece of myself. And I didn’t ever want it back.

I pressed my lips against her forehead and she stirred.

“Hi,” she said, lifting her head to look at me. Her voice was sleepy.

“Sorry,” I said. “Did I wake you?”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” she said. “Just relaxed.”

I touched her face and kissed her mouth, slow and soft. A gentle caress of my lips against hers.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

“For everything,” she said. “For keeping me safe the other night. For forgiving me. For not giving up on me.”

“You’re worth it,” I said. “But no more of that, okay?”

“No,” she said. “I’m not using, Seb. I promise. Not like that. I took some stuff the other night, but that was the first time since I met you. And Olivia flushed the rest of what I had down the toilet.”

“Good,” I said. “I guess you’re not angry with me for calling Mrs. Harper?”

“No, I’m not angry,” she said. “But why did you?”

“I had to do something,” I said. “I couldn’t sit back and watch you self-destruct.”

“So you brought in the big guns,” she said with a little laugh.

“Can you blame me?” I asked. “I knew they cared about you, and they’d find a way to help. I wasn’t exactly expecting to pick up Olivia at the airport today, but she called this morning.”

“I still can’t believe she came. I didn’t think she ever wanted to see me again. And then, there she was, knocking on my door. Here, in Iowa.” She paused, her fingers absently caressing my chest. “I didn’t think you wanted to see me again, either.”

“Of course I did.” I rolled her onto her back and leaned over her. “I’m in love with you, Brooke. I don’t say that lightly. If I’m going to do something, I give it my all. I learned that when I was a wrestler. So if we do this, I’m going all in. I’m too familiar with my own mortality for casual flings or that friends-with-benefits bullshit. I want to be with you. But I need you to want to be with me too.”

She looked into my eyes and I could see her taking it in. Processing what I said, and what it meant. I was glad she didn’t answer right away. This was important. I’d held back, trying to hide my feelings from her, because I hadn’t known if she was capable of returning them. If she wasn’t, I had to stop this before it went any further, regardless of how much I wanted her. How much I loved her. Because me loving her would never be enough if she couldn’t love me back.

But I knew it was there, inside her. I’d felt it in her body. In the way she’d responded to me. In the way she’d surrendered. Heard it in the very breaths she took. She’d said it, let the words escape her lips, and I’d heard the truth of them. I knew she loved me. But she had to know it too.

Her eyes moved to my chest. To the scar that ran down the center, right between my pecs. She trailed her fingers across the raised skin, caressing me with a light touch, then met my eyes.

“I’m in love with you, too. I want to be with you. More than anything.”

I leaned down and kissed her. She tasted so good. So sweet. There were so many things I wanted to show her. Do with her. It was as if a whole new world had opened—a world in which maybe Brooke Summerlin could really be mine.

She giggled and I pulled away. “Is my beard tickling your face?”

“A little.” She stroked my jaw. “But I love it.”

“How do you feel now?” I asked.

The corners of her mouth turned up and her eyes sparkled. “Happy.”

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