“Aaron,” she said sadly, “don’t you see that your offer—you’restillpushing me away?”
His hand fell away, and he blinked at her like he didn’t understand.
She shook her head, and it was like she had to dispel the ghost of his touch.
“The thing is,” she said, her eyes squeezed shut, “I understand you, Aaron. I really do. Maybe you covered your hurts with a layer of ice—I covered mine with joviality, with a constant search for adventure and novelty. I do understand. But…”
“But?” He grasped the word like a desperate man.
“But,” she went on, “if you’re still trying to send me away, then how can I trust that the ice won’t come back? How can I trust that you mean it when you say that you care about my happiness?”
The words were difficult to get out. Phoebe was almost certain that they were the words that would break her heart for good. She could see it all playing out—could see Aaron responding to the rejection, could see him leaving her here in the cold.
But he didn’t, and that one thoughtful pause meant more than she could put into words.
“You’re right,” he said.
“I am?” she asked, startled.
He nodded, the first time as though he was thinking the matter through, the second time with more certainty.
“Yes,” he said. “You’re right. I was wrong to offer to leave.”
He took both her hands in his, clasping her fingers between his, and even though his hands were still icy from the chill in the air, the way he cupped her fingers against his chest made them start to warm immediately.
“I amend my previous offer,” he said, gazing down at her with intensity in his hazel eyes. “I will not leave you here in London. I will not go where you tell me to go. I will stay by your side.”
He squeezed her hands, and it was as though he had reached directly into her chest and squeezed her heart. “I will stay with you always. I will stay, and I will let you in, and I will keep doing it until you learn to trust me. I will keep doing it however long it takes for you to trust me because there is nothing that I regret more in this life than hurting you. And then, when I have earned it—when I have earned your trust back—I will tell you that I have done it all because I love yo?—”
He did not make it all the way through his declaration because Phoebe had ripped her hands from between his, thrown herarms around his neck, and kissed him with all the passion she could no longer contain.
His coat fell off her shoulders and onto the damp ground, but she didn’t care. She kissed him and kissed him and kissed him, and the heat between them was enough to warm the city, let alone the gazebo.
She felt Aaron’s mouth go from surprised to smiling, and then he kissed her back with every ounce of anguish and passion that fueled the plea he’d lain at her feet.
“Wait,” he said, pulling back from her.
“No waiting,” Phoebe insisted, grabbing at his lapels and bringing him back toward her mouth. He didn’t do much in the way of resistance, but after another few deep, probing kisses, he pulled back again. She was really getting sick of that.
“No,wait,” he said more firmly. He held her back at the shoulders this time, as if he thought she might attack him—which, she supposed, was a fair enough thought.
“What?” she demanded when, for a moment, he just… held her there.
A look crossed his face that was far more vulnerable than it should have been, given all the kissing.
“Does this… Do you mean that you love me, too?” he asked shyly.
She laughed, bold and full of joy, then had to hastily retreat when he looked absolutely shattered. She clung even more tightly to his lapels as he tried to draw back.
“No, don’t—Aaron, I’m not laughingatyou,” she reassured him. “I’m laughing at the absurdity—because yes,yes.Ofcourse,I love you.”
He froze.
“You do?” he asked as though he scarcely dared to hope.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, yes, yes, ye?—”
This time, she was the one who didn’t get to finish her words ashehauled her in for a kiss.
