Page 93 of Fall for Me

She was moaning now, making high-pitched sounds that were going to send me over the edge. Then she came, wild and bucking and bouncing hard against me. She brought her own hand down to finish so I could repurpose my hands. I grasped her hips and with only one final thrust, my balls contracted and I released inside of her, clinging to her body like a drowning man.

“Fuck,” I whispered, floating, sailing, falling. “I love you,” I said, the words coming out before I could stop them.

She stiffened, still on me.

Fuck.I’d barely whispered it, but she’d heard.

Goddammit, of all the things I could have said, that was probably the worst.

She sat up, extracting herself from me. Her face was alarmed—no, slightly shell-shocked. Flushed and beautiful, but her lips trembling.

“Seamus, I don’t know what…” She swallowed, then searched around the floor for her clothes. Her beautiful, scarred face, looking at me like I’d done damage.

“Chelsea, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

She said nothing for a moment, just grabbed a paper towel from a roll on the desk, and turned her back to me while she cleaned my mess from her thighs.

I pulled my clothes back on while she reaffixed her bra and pulled on her underwear. But she stopped then, turning back to me and sinking into a crouch, holding onto her knees. For a moment, the only sound was the hum of the space heater and the faint rumble of traffic outside.

Her eyes didn’t meet mine. They stared at a spot on the floor. “Did you mean it?”

I swallowed. Could I lie? Would that help her? I was tempted. “Of course I meant it,” I said softly. I leaned onto my knees, my eyes on the floor now too. “I think I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you,” I said softly, my traitorous tongue speaking my truth.

Now would be the time to use the words I’d practiced earlier. The ones on the tip of my tongue. But different ones bubbled up; ones that had been swirling inside me since I’d woken up next to her that morning and known for certain how true those words are. I love you, Chelsea Kelly.

But I’d also known at that moment that I couldn’t say them, not the way I wanted to. I knew, on that hilltop, that if I told her how I felt, it wouldn’t be for her. It would be for me, to release a truth I’d been holding in, to relieve my own pressure. But I wasn’t the best thing for her, not right now. Maybe not ever. I may have loved her just the way she was, but she wanted to be someone else. She needed to be a different version of herself, one who didn’t hang on to the pain of the past. And I couldn’t be the one to keep that from her. That realization, while it was a hard punch to my gut, had given me peace.

Chelsea placed a hand on her head. “Seamus, this is all… I’ve been trying to be smart about things. To take things slow… I thought… you’re the one who said we didn’t need to jump right into a relationship.”

“I know.” I ran a hand through my hair. I’d said that because I wanted to prevent this from happening.

But I should have said something sooner. I shouldn’t have waited until tonight.

“Chelsea, I never expected you to feel the same way.” My voice was surprisingly steady for the emotion ripping through me right now. “I meant what I said.” I took a breath. “I’ve accepted a—”

But I was interrupted by a bang downstairs, making us both jump.

“Hello?” a voice called from downstairs as Chelsea scrambled into her dress. “That’s my dad,” I said, grimacing.

Chelsea’s hands shook as she fumbled for the zipper.

I placed a hand on her lower back, taking the zipper from her shaking fingers. I tugged it up, watching as her skin—along with the scar on her side like the one on her face—disappeared behind lacy green.

“Seamus?” Dad called again.

“Yeah,” I called. “Up here.”

Then to Chelsea’s back, I said, “Chelsea, I’m leaving.”

She whirled on me, her mouth falling open, her eyes wide. “Wait, what?”

“I’m moving to New York to do the hotel job.” I’d told her about the offer from Graydon, though I hadn’t given any indication I was even seriously considering it. I didn’t tell her I sent the email to him last week, confirming I’d be there tomorrow, two weeks earlier than I needed to be. “To acclimatize.”

Chelsea’s chin made the slightest wobble, but I knew I wasn’t mistaken at the hint of something softer in her eyes.

Relief.

This was the right thing to do. Even if it hurt like a motherfucker.

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