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“Fine. You got it. I already told you what you meant to me last night.” He paused, his eyes growing wide and wild as he stared at me. A smile crept up the corners of his mouth. “And now I get to tell you again.” He laughed like he’d surprised himself with that revelation. It made no sense to me whatsoever, but Gray had just told me he loved me. I’d listen to him recite the books ofMatthew, Mark, Luke,andJohnback-to-back if he asked me to. “I get to see that look on your face all over again.” He leaned forward, kissing me with everything he had in him. When he pulled away, I was a confused, love-drunk mess of a man, but I wasn’t complaining.
“I broke up with Sarah last night,” he said, sliding his fingers between mine. “When you called me from the bar, that’s what I was doing. I hadn’t talked to her since that night at Shooters, and I just needed it to be over. I couldn’t keep hurting you. Couldn’t keep hurting myself. These last two weeks have been bad, baby. I’ve barely slept, I can’t concentrate. Heck, I fired Rhonda four times last week alone. When you saw that ring—when I had to take it away from you. You said yes. You said you’d marry me like it was the easiest thing in the world. Why would you do that?”
“Because it was,” I whispered, almost ashamed to hear the pathetic words leaving my mouth. “I love you, Gray. I don’t know if you’ve realized, but you’re kind ofitfor me. You’re my home. I just want to come home.”
“Then come home.” He leaned forward and pecked me on the cheek.
“What changed? She said yes. She took my ring.” I closed my eyes, trying to center myself. “Thering. She tookthering.”
“When you brought Christian to the bar. When he kissed you. That’s when I knew it. When I knew I couldn’t fight it anymore. That I didn’twantto fight it anymore. It took everything in me not to fire him on the spot. You told me you loved me.” He kissed me again, his hands combing gently through my hair. When he broke the kiss and stared at me, he had an angry look on his face. “I can’t keep doing this. I’m almost forty and I’m still more scared of disappointing my family than I am of hurting you. I’ve been hiding for so long, Half-pint. I’ve had to live this life I never asked for. One I’ve never wanted. All I wanted—all I ever wanted—is you. I should’ve never let Trevor take you that night. I should’ve followed him out to our lake and stood right by your side and made him pour that gas on me. I begged you to love me when we were at the lake, and then I just sat there like a coward while you cried out for help. I still hear you screaming out for me sometimes. Twenty years later, and it’s still crystal clear in my head.” He pulled his hand away from mine and let it rest under my chin, tugging my face up until we were eye to eye. “That day at the lake. After Dottie left, when you called me to come get you. You asked me if I ever thought about what we could’ve been if you’d just gone home.” He stared at me for an uncomfortable amount of time, barely blinking. “You remember that?”
“I remember.”
“What I wanted to say—what I should have said—was that it’s all I think about. Every day since you left, I’ve thought about it. Prayed for it. I wanted to tell you so bad. There were so many times I wanted to tell you. In the stockroom, on that ladder. At the lake. When I yelled at you in the breakroom. I thought about you every day that you were gone. I missed you every single day. After you left, I used to lay in bed and imagine the life we never got to share. You saved me, Kent. You saved me so many times. When the lie got so big that it felt like I was losing myself, I’d lock my door, lay in bed, and I’d come home to you.”
“Tell me. Tell me about our life.” My voice cracked, and it took everything in me just to hold myself together.
“It wasn’t anything special, but it was a life worth living. We left town when we graduated. Hopped on the bus and headed out west. You got a job in an office, and I sang. We had a house and a dog. At one point we had a kid, but you got really jealous of him, so I had to pretend like he was just a part of a fever dream. At night, we’d share the white chocolate chip cookies you’d baked for me—’
“Did I remember to leave out the nuts?”
He smiled at me, big and bright. “Of course, you did. You know how much I hate them.”
I nodded. “Little white liars. I remember.”
“You made me watch scary movies with you, and then I’d force you to sit through the Joyce Meyer sermon I recorded earlier in the day.” He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Gosh, you complained. Always ranting about how her haircut makes her look like a lesbian, and that her lipstick’s like the Joker from Batman. The entire time she was on, you just griped, and griped, and griped.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, kissing his cheek. “I know I’m a lot sometimes.”
He shook his head emphatically. “You’re not. I swear to God, you’re not. I loved it. Every single second of your shade.”
“Please don’t say shade, Gray,” I said, wiping a tear from my face. “We’re almost forty, for God’s sake.”
He rolled his eyes. “Then I’d scoop you up off the couch and carry you to bed.” He pulled me in even closer, his grip almost unbearable. “I’d hold you right up against me, and then I’d sing you your song. You saved me, Half-pint. Every time I thought of …” he sniffled, turning his head away long enough to wipe a tear from his cheek. “Every single time. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. So, you see? It’s notnothing,Kent. You’re everything to me. You’re my world.”
“Jesus,” I whispered. How the hell was I supposed to respond to that?
“Sorry, that was too much, wasn’t it?”
I shook my head. “No! No, it wasn’t. It was perfect. It was beautiful. Seriously, best love declaration ever, Two-liter. Jesus Christ.”
“Do you need me to go?” He leaned back, resting his head against the sofa. “You’re sick and miserable, and I just unloaded all of that on you. I’m so sorry.” He looked up at me and winced. “I should go, right? I’ll go.”
“Don’t. Stay with me. My stomach is spinning, and I feel like there are drunk fish swimming in my esophagus. I need you.” I peered behind him and stared at the staircase. “Do you want to come upstairs? Nothing sordid, I promise. Maybe you could just hold me? I want to feel you next to me. It’ll help.”
He placed his hands on his hips, puffing out his chest like a superhero. “I’d nurse you back to health any day, Half-pint.”
“Nurse-man, healer of boyfriends—” I stopped myself, realizing that it was already too late to come up with a grand recovery for that fumble. “Oh fuck, I just ruined it, didn’t I? I’m sorry, I know you’re not ready for—”
Gray nodded, his brows lifting halfway up his forehead. The excitement on his face left me giddy. “Boyfriends,” he half-said, half-shouted directly into my face. “Healer of boyfriends.”
“Boyfriends,” I agreed. I gave him one last kiss on the lips before pulling away. “Number seventeen.”
“Number seventeen,” he agreed. “More than I ever have, Kent.” He slid one hand behind my back and the other under my thighs. As he lifted me off the couch, his knee popped, and a wince spread across his face.
“Would it be a bad time to mention that I’m genuinely concerned about your knees? I swear to God, every time you stand up, they crack.” As I held on to him, he stared at me with a curious expression. “What? What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to make it about me,” he whispered. “I didn’t go through half of what you did, that night. They didn’t pour gas all over me. Whatever happened to me doesn’t begin to compare.”
