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Neil lifted his head. “Nothing has to change, Sophie. I love you. If this is finally happening, if we’re finally going to be together, I’ll take it. Even if it means you don’t spend your holidays with me or introduce me to your family. If you never even want to keep so much as a toothbrush here.” He kissed my forehead, and pulled me into his arms.
“I’m arguing with you about being in love with you,” I muttered, feeling foolish. “I was trying not to bring love into this. I didn’t want to complicate things.”
“Well, I’m sorry I’m so damn lovable.” He tilted my chin up to smile down at me, then he kissed me. His undamaged hand cupped my jaw, his nose brushed against mine. It was the softest, most romantic kiss I’d ever had in my entire life. And that knot in my chest came completely untied. I was in love with someone, and he loved me back, and nothing bad had happened. The world hadn’t ended.
I was so relieved; I almost failed to notice what he’d actually said a moment before. I pulled back, frowning mildly up at him. “Um. Finally?”
He did the prey animal freeze thing again.
“How long have you been in love with me?” A thrill of trepidation curled through me. I ordered it away.
“Six years.” Absolutely no hesitation on his part. His arms still encircled my waist. “I fell in love with you that night in L.A.”
That freaked me out, but way less that it probably should have. “Are you kidding?”
“No. Not at all.” He paused, his expression pained. “I could tell you the exact moment, it’s that fresh in my memory.”
I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure there was anything to say.
So, he told me, anyway. Looking into my eyes, his own full of raw emotion, he told me the exact moment he’d fallen in love with me.
“We were in the bar at the airport. And you shrieked in total outrage because I didn’t like William Faulkner’s writing.”
My mouth fell open. “Neil… that was like ten minutes after we met.”
“I know. And I’m aware that it sounds crazy. Better than love at first sight, you must admit.” He said the rest in a rush, as though he were trying to talk over the fact that he’d just admitted to loving me for six years when he hadn’t even known me for a full day at the time. “You didn’t hide a contrary opinion to impress me. You were so young… It amazes me now that I know just how young, and yet you were so self-confident. Here you were, a journalist— well, you let me think you were a journalist— and you thought I worked for a magazine, but you didn’t kiss my ass or try to network.
“And you were utterly fearless. You were flying to a foreign country for the first time in your life, to a place where you didn’t speak the language and you didn’t know a soul. And you didn’t even have money for a hotel room. But you weren’t worried about that. You were more interested in defending Faulkner. I knew then that you were the perfect woman for me.” He smiled sadly. “And that I had met you too early in your life to do either of us a bit of good. I wrestled with the idea of continuing a relationship with you in Tokyo, but I was afraid. I thought I would ruin you, try to mold you into what I thought you should be. So I tried to let you go and move on. And I’ve been making a ridiculous mess of my life ever since.”
I didn’t know what to say. Neil was really, actually, not-fucking-around in love with me. Apparently, he had been for some time. It was my turn to go all lizard-in-the-desert.
“I shouldn’t have told you,” he said, his expression falling.
“No.” I shook my head and smiled. “No, I’m so glad you did.”
He kissed me again, his lips warm and soft, and I melted against him. He loved me. Neil Elwood and I were in love.
And I was still pretty pissed off at him.
“You shouldn’t have said that, you know.” I pushed my hair back from my forehead as I leaned away. “About my job. Being just an assistant editor. That was a cheap shot.”
“I know. I meant it to be. I’m not proud of that.” He looked at me with such earnest sincerity my heart ached. “I really am sorry.”
“I won’t hold a grudge against you forever. Just maybe like, forty more minutes.” I gestured at the counter. “You can make it up to me by finishing breakfast. And not bleeding on it.”
We ate at the island, because there was more room for our gadgets. That sounds demented and sad, but Neil liked to read the paper on his iPad, and I liked to make my morning perusal of The Huffington Post on my phone, so it was nice to share the comfortable silence while we ate. I got up to get more coffee, and on impulse I stepped over and refilled Neil’s mug, too. When I sat back down, he casually took my hand and squeezed it, without looking up.
