He takes every bit of me, the shattered trust, the deep, never-ending grief, the bold and loud, the soft and quiet, both the confident and the timid, and he makes a space for all of it, for all of me in his big heart, and he never asks for anything more.
Is this what love feels like? Is this what it’s like to be loved by someone with no obligation to be anything other than myself?
Warm and fuzzy, like curling up on the couch on a cold, snowy night in my favorite of his hoodies and a mug of hot chocolate after a long day. Like my favorite person smiling down at me, pressing his lips to mine before he lifts the blankets and slides in beside me, pulling me into his warmth, the safety net he casts around me every time he’s near.
Because with him, I’m safe. Safe to be myself, safe to feel, safe to want, safe to be.
If this is love, I’m in it.
If this is love, I never want to let go.
Upstairs, I stare at each carefully wrapped Valentine gift, pretty packages finished with red silk ribbons.
I ditched the dress the second I walked in, sitting here now in his hoodie and a pair of sleep shorts. My face has been scrubbed clean, and despite the overwhelming exhaustion that runs rampant, adrenaline keeps me moving while I watch the clock.
I don’t know how this night will end, but I can’t wait any longer. Bottling up these emotions is wreaking havoc on my brain; I need to let them free.
So I slip my feet into my slippers, shuffle over to my door, and throw it open.
“Garrett,” I gasp softly, coming alive as I stare up at the only love I’ve ever craved.
The gift bag he’s holding lands at my feet, his gaze searing and intent as he sweeps into my apartment, locking the door behind him.
“I’m so fucking tired of pretending.”
“Pretending what?” It’s nothing but a breathy whisper as he prowls toward me, matching each of my steps backward.
His strong hands cup my face, piercing gaze locked on mine as he looms above me. My heart slams in my chest as his thumb sweeps across my lower lip, and his eyes dip, watching as my lips part on a jagged inhale, before flipping back up to mine.
“I’m so fucking tired of pretending I’m not in love with you.”
CHAPTER 34
LIKE THE STARS
JENNIE
Something’s short-circuiting, and I think it’s my brain.
“I think you said…no, because you…Garrett, I think you accidentally just said—”
“I’m in love with you,” he finishes for me, which is great. Pretty sure we’re about to do that thing where we switch spots, where he becomes the confident one and me the mindless rambler.
I don’t know how it’s possible for my heart to beat as fast as it is, but there it goes, galloping away. My throat keeps squeezing, and I don’t know how to get my words out.
“Are you…Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been surer of anything.” His words are tender, like the fingers he presses to my jaw, forbidding me from looking away. “I love you, Jennie.”
Nobody’s ever loved me before, not like this. And to be loved by the only person I want to love me…I can’t wrap my head around it.
“Maybe you could, like…” I draw in a sniffle, rubbing furiously at my eye while gripping Garrett’s forearm so I don’t do something ridiculous, like fall straight to my ass. “Say it again.”
There’s that smile, breathtaking, goofy, just the right amount of arrogance. With my face in his hands, he sweeps the tears from below my eyes and whispers, “I love you.”
No. Nope. Now’s not the time for strange, choking sounds, Jennie. Be cool.
“Again?”
“I love you.” He presses a kiss to my cheek. “I love you.” The other cheek. “And once more, Jennie, for good measure. I fucking love you.”
“I’m not crying,” I cry. “Just in case you were wondering.” I choke out a pathetic sob. “It’s allergy season.”
“It’s February.”
“Shut up.”
Garrett laughs, pulling me into his embrace. He’s warm and solid, and I can’t wrap my head around how ferociously I missed him when he wasn’t even gone long.
“But what about Susie?”
He shifts back, holding my stare. “I took Susie outside, told her I was in love with the brunette who fell off her chair and then whacked her head off mine, but that I hadn’t even told her yet because I’m a dumbass. Then I said you’d call me a twat-waffle, not a dumbass.” Broad fingertips sweep over my cheekbone, brushing away wisps of hair. “There’s nobody else, Jennie. There never has been and never will be.”
“But why?”
He frowns. “Why do I love you?”
I nod. What does he see that no one else ever saw? What does he love that everyone else thought was too complicated, too time-consuming?
“Hmm.” He scoops me up and carries me to the kitchen island, setting me on top. He steps between my legs, bracketing my body with his hands on the countertop. “The short and simple answer is why not? There’s nothing I don’t love. But I think you need to know all the reasons, and I came prepared.” He winks, tapping his temple. “Got ’em locked up here in my Jennie bank.”
“Jennie bank?”
“Like spank bank, except all things Jennie.”
Giggling, I swipe the remainder of my allergies from my cheeks before slinging my arms over his shoulders. “Okay, have at it.”
“I love your toys.”
I shove him away. “Not a good start, you donkey.”
Laughing, he reclaims his spot between my legs, draping my arms around him again. “You didn’t let me finish. So impatient. I love that you took your satisfaction into your own hands. That you created boundaries for yourself and explored within them. I think it’s sexy, not because of what’s in your drawer, but because you’re not afraid to be the person who makes yourself feel good.”
“Good save, big guy.”
“Circling back to your impatience…I love that too. It’s not selfish or tiring, but the opposite. You’re so genuinely hyped up about so many things that you want to take them into your hands right away. It makes me want to experience everything with you. Your happiness is addicting.”
My face heats, teeth tugging at my lower lip. “Go on.”
“I wanted you to let me in so long ago.” He cups my cheek when my face falls at his quiet words. “Because I wanted to know everything, Jennie. Why you sometimes shut down on me, why you were against things like sex, and didn’t have many friends. But I realize now that’s not what I really wanted. You made me practice patience, and in doing so I learned to trust you, to trust myself a little more. Your walls were there for a reason, and you didn’t let me push you into tearing them down on my own schedule.”
He smiles. “I like that your walls were there. You committed to knowing yourself better than anyone before letting someone else in, and I admire that. So many people have shallow, empty relationships because they don’t really know themselves. But I only know you so well because you do, because you’re able to be unapologetically yourself.”
Hooking my legs around his hips, I tug him closer. “You think you know me?”