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A sappy smile breaks out on my face. I’m sure I’m not misremembering that.
And I know he meant it. I know it’s true. Because for so many years he’s always been there for me.
Anytime I need it. Never pushy or demanding. Exactly what I need when I need it.
I told him the truth the other night by the beach. My life wouldn’t be the same without him.
Without him, my world wouldn’t be anywhere close to as good as it is.
I mentally play with the memory of him saying those words. And something else that’s a little less clear about how his feelings for me aren’t going to change. The sentiment spreads over me like a cozy blanket, like the first sip of a hot drink.
It fills me. Warms me.
I’m honestly not sure how I functioned so long without understanding exactly what he means to me.
And without recognizing how incredibly sexy he is.
What in the world was wrong with me?
I suddenly don’t like that there’s a closed door between us. I need to see him. Touch him. Get close to him. I get out of the tub, pull the drain and towel off.
It’s only then that another slice of memory pierces into the rising fog of my mind.
I blurted out that I loved him last night. I just said it. I love you, Chase.
I have to reach mentally until I recall what came afterward.
You know perfectly well I love you too.
That’s what he said. I can even hear the tone he used. Half-dry and half-fond. Kind of tired. Maybe a little resigned.
Resigned. Like he’s been living with it for a long time and it’s starting to wear on him.
Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it? I’ve been completely clueless about him for way too long.
I pull on the thick robe I retrieved from the wardrobe where Chase stuffed it yesterday. Then I come out of the bathroom to see that Chase is lounging on top of the covers as he often does. Eyes closed. Listening to music through his earbuds.
His body is long and firm and relaxed and strong. Irresistibly masculine. I climb onto the bed, scoot over, and prop myself up over him.
He opens his eyes. When he sees how close I am, his eyes widen and he pulls off his earbuds.
“Hi,” I say.
He gives a huff—half-amused and half-confused. “Hi. What’s going on?”
Now that I’m here, I’m not exactly sure what I imagined I’d say to him right now. Tell him I love him again? And not just like a friend? Tell him I want more from our relationship? I want everything?
That’s way too much. Way too scary. I’m not remotely prepared for such a confession. Not when I barely have a handle on what I’m feeling.
Plus I’ve always been too much for men. Moved too quickly. Wanted more than they were ready to give.
They always eventually pull back because who I am is simply too much.
I’m not going to mess things up that way with Chase.
So instead, what comes out is “I want to kiss you.”
His eyes close slowly in a prolonged blink. “What?”
