“The timing just felt so wrong. You were still in high school. I was going to college across the country. I was afraid that if we tried to make it work that we’d fail and I’d lose you for good. And I couldn’t bear the thought of that. I couldn’t bear to lose you.” His eyes were pleading with me for understanding. I was too astonished to even know how to react. Rory paused and took another swallow of ale, his gaze never leaving mine. “So I chickened out. I didn’t let you know how I felt, but I broke up with Jessica the week after that night on the beach. I knew that I loved you and I couldn’t give her what she wanted. And then I waited and promised myself that someday I would tell you the truth. I told myself I was waiting for you to graduate from high school before I told you how I felt, but then so much time had passed I was scared to try to explain myself to you. You were already so furious with me I didn’t know how to make it right again. You’d told me never to contact you. I was afraid that if I told you how I really felt, that you’d reject me, that you would smash my heart flat. I thought I was being patient, but I think I was just being a coward. And you know what?” He paused, waiting for my response.
I shook my head, managing to say, “What?”
“I’m done being a coward. I’ve been stuck for three years. In lovewith you but not courageous enough to tell you. That’s no way to live, it’s a shell of a life, a half life. So I made up my mind. I don’t want to live with just the hope of you, Lolly. I’ve tried and I can’t do it anymore. Holding on to the hope of you isn’t enough. I want you.” He took a deep breath and reached across the table, grasping my arm firmly. I glanced down at his lean, strong fingers gripping the sleeve of my coat, then up at him again, trying to comprehend his confession. His tone was ragged with pent-up emotion.
“Lolly, you are my whole heart. I’ve always been yours whether you knew it or not. I’m absolutely, completely, hopelessly in love with you. And I’m not asking for anything. But I had to tell you face-to-face. I love you, Lolly Freya Blanchard. I always have and I think I always will.”
The moment of silence stretched long as I gaped at him, as his glorious declaration burst over the table like fireworks, raining down on me in a shower of dazzling golden words. Rory loved me. He’d always loved me.
“Ah, sorry. Shall I come back then?” Stephen cleared his throat from behind Rory’s shoulder. He met my eyes and I saw hurt and surprise in his expression. Oh, Stephen. Good, polite, pleasant Stephen. He’d stepped into the middle of something so much stronger than he and I could ever be. He was a thoroughly decent man, but when I glanced between him and Rory, I saw the truth plainly. My heart had never really been free.
I walked Stephen to the street, where we both labored through my awkward explanation and apology. Ever the gentleman, he took it stiffly but didn’t protest. We were both embarrassed, wanting the entire situation to be over.
“I’m so sorry, Stephen. It isn’t you,” I said again, wincing as I spoke the trite phrase. I felt terrible for putting him in such an awkward position. He wished me luck and without a backward glance, walked off down the passageway as fast as his long legs could carry him.
Back in the beer garden I slid into the bench seat opposite Rory and crossed my arms, my discomfort melting away at the sight of him. He was sitting back in the chair, arms crossed too, looking a little nervous. He raised an eyebrow.
“I have some things to say,” I said calmly, although my heart was racing. “First, I forgive you for being a coward.”
He gave a surprised laugh. “I don’t remember apologizing.”
“You didn’t but you should have.” I raised my chin and looked him in the eye. “You can do it later. You put me through hell. I deserve an apology. Now, there are some ground rules.”
He waited, a faintly bemused expression on his face. “Okay, ground rules for what?”
I ignored his question. “If we are going to do this, I want us both to be in it completely. No trying this out and seeing what happens. My heart can’t take that. If you want me, I’m yours, but that’s it. We’re each other’s person from here on out. No cold feet or games, no giving in to fear. We will be honest and strong and together.”
“Wait, are you saying...?” he asked, sitting up straight, suddenly on the alert, his expression eager and hopeful. “Are you saying you still... care for me?”
I leaned forward across the small table until I was close enough to press a kiss on his lips, then I paused a scant few inches away from him. “Rory Shaw, I’m absolutely head over heels in love with you,” I confessed for the second time in my life. And this time I knew I wasn’t alone. He loved me back. The knowledge was momentous. It changed everything.
He broke into a grin, incandescent with relief. “Can I ask you a question?” he said almost shyly.
I nodded.
“Can I come sit next to you on your bench? It’s freezing and I’m starving and I really, really want to kiss you. And after I kiss you for avery long time, I plan to order everything on their menu, even the weird stuff like haggis.”
Laughing, I sat back and scooted over invitingly. “I don’t think they serve haggis here. That’s Scottish.”
We cuddled close on the bench next to each other and talked and talked and kissed and talked some more.
“Do you remember the first time we touched? When I cut myself on New Year’s Eve?” I smiled at the memory and nestled against his shoulder.
In the dim golden light of the beer garden, Rory pulled back and looked at me. “I’d been wanting to touch you for months,” he confessed with a bashful grin. “I’d lie awake and imagine what it felt like to hold you, to slip my arms around your waist, to have you lay your head on my shoulder. You cutting part of your thumb off was a convenient excuse.”
“And was it all you hoped and dreamed?” I murmured teasingly, rubbing my cold nose against his neck. My heart was inflating with joy, pressing against my rib cage. I felt like I could float.
“Better,” he murmured against my temple. “With you it’s always better.”
Before the kitchen closed for the night, Rory made good on his promise. He ordered a wide selection of British pub delicacies—steak and ale pie, fish and chips, Cumberland Scotch egg, and something called a sticky pickle sausage roll.
“We can’t possibly eat all this in one sitting,” I protested, laughing and surveying the plates of food covering the table.
He pressed a firm kiss against my mouth and took a swig of beer. “Doesn’t matter. I’m starving. Just got off the plane, remember, and came straight here. I want all the food and then I want you.” His gaze was intense.
I took the pint out of his hand and set it down, then clambered ontohis lap and kissed him until I was dizzy. He tasted of ale and prawn crisps and Rory. I couldn’t get enough of him. “I don’t think I ever need to eat again.” I sighed dreamily, settling back against him while he held me with one arm and tucked into the steak and ale pie with the other hand. “I can just live on love. I’m the happiest girl in the world.”
“We finally got it right,” he said around a mouthful of pie, giving me a lopsided, entirely Rory smile. I nestled against his shoulder, warmed by the brazier and a feeling of contentment I hadn’t experienced in so long. I knew we faced a few bumps in the road ahead. Navigating a long-distance relationship on opposite coasts until I could graduate and we could be together would be a challenge. Rory had years of medical school and residency ahead of him to achieve his dream of being a physician for a professional sports team. And I had already drawn up plans for Toast.
