I need to say something about how I’m feeling. I never expected any of this to happen, and I sure as hell never expected to feel emotions like possessive and proud and sparkling, pinwheeling happiness around Rory Miller. Anger knots in my stomach at my hesitation.
“Thank you for coming today,” he says.
“Of course.” This guy has no fucking clue what I’d do for him.
I think about Nicole and how happy she was to see him today. How she clearly threw the party together after she invited us because she wanted to see him so badly. When the downstairs washroom was occupied, she sent me upstairs, and I walked past her office.
“Your mom’s office was filled with your hockey stuff,” I tell him, and his brow creases.
“She hates hockey.”
“She had the newspaper clipping from the day you were drafted, all your jerseys, and a bunch of Storm merch in there.” An ache throbs in my chest for him and for her. “She misses you, Rory.”
“I miss her, too,” he says softly in my ear, and my throat tightens.
He’s so honest with me, even when it’s hard, so I push myself to give him more of myself.
“Connor said guys like him don’t end up with girls like me,” I rush out. I can’t tell him the truth about how I feel, but I can give him this. I can take this tiny step forward with him.
His eyes sharpen, going hard at Connor’s name. I cross my arms over my chest, frowning at the floor, and in my head, I’m back there, years ago at the party, feeling the burning shame of not being enough for someone.
“I wasn’t enough for him.” I can barely get the words out. They’re slicing up my throat as I say them.
He shifts under me, moving so we face each other, hands framing my jaw while he wears the most urgent, earnest, furious expression. He tilts me up so he can look into my eyes.
“He’s wrong, Hartley.” Our eyes hold, emotion flickering in his gaze. “He’s so fucking wrong.”
My heart beats hard in my chest. I want to believe him. When we’re sitting here, wrapped up in each other like nothing else exists, I want to believe he’ll never grow sick of me or discard me.
I think I’d just die if that happened.
What have I gotten myself into? Panic spikes as I stare up into Rory’s eyes. There’s no way to extract myself from this without getting hurt.
“He’s wrong.” Rory looks down at me like I have to believe him. “He was never good enough for you, and he knew it. You’re perfect, Hartley.”
Something drums inside me, urgent, insistent, desperate to get out. This is agonizing, keeping the feelings inside like this.
“It’s not fake anymore,” I whisper. “Is it?”
Rory shakes his head. “No, Hartley. It isn’t.” His gaze moves over my face like he’s trying to take in every detail about me, and he swallows like he’s nervous. “It hasn’t been fake for me for a long time.”
There isn’t enough air in the room, and I can’t look away.
Connor said I wasn’t enough, but maybe he’s wrong. Rory sure looks at me like I’m enough. I want this, whatever we’re doing. I want all of this.
“Can I tell you something?” he asks, tucking my hair behind my ear.
My pulse trips at his earnest and nervous expression, but I nod, biting my lip.
He searches my eyes, sucking in a breath. “I love you.”
The world stops, fading away, and it’s just me and Rory.
“What?” I suck a shaky breath in, like I’m scared, but I’m not.
“I love you.” The long column of his throat works as he watches me, hand slipping back into my hair.
Two months ago, this would have been the last thing I wanted to hear. Now, I want to hear Rory say those words a thousand times.
“Don’t look so surprised, Hartley.” His smile is gentle and crooked. “How could I not fall for you? It was always only a matter of time.”
My lips part, but I’m speechless. The girl from years ago who had her heart smashed can’t believe how insanely lucky I am to have found Rory. And at the same time, I’m terrified it won’t last.
“You don’t need to say anything.” He laughs quietly at my silence. “I know you’ll say it back eventually.”
He says it like he knows. He says it like he can see right through me, like he believes I’ll catch up.
A glow expands through me. “So cocky,” I murmur.
I’ve been avoiding the emotion, turning away from it, but I can’t ignore it anymore.