“I love you.”
Then nearly bit through it.
This woman could make him weak and desperate, bring him to his knees a thousand different ways, but hearing her say that made him bulletproof.
TWENTY-SIX
Oh, this impossible man. Zarley poked Reid in the chest. “That was an asshole thing to do.” He grinned, eyes alight with excitement after being distressed with the weight of his confession. “You made me go first.”
“Believe me, Flygirl, if I thought there was any chance of faking it till you broke, I’d have been there. Not sure I’ve ever been so terrified, way worse than air travel.”
“Hah.” She folded her arms. How could she love him, he was infuriating. “You don’t know terrified till you say those words, because we’re still at me having said them first.”
He moved in, crowding her. “Can’t fault your logic there.”
She was forced to step back or look up. She was never stepping back from him. She flattened both palms on his chest and pegged his eyes. “I hate you.”
“Not what I heard.” He brought his arms around her back.
“The ego on you.”
“Did I mishear, Zarley?” He brought his face close, brushing his cheek against hers, whispering in her ear. “Did I fantasize you saying those three little words?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck to hold him, knowing the lightest touch would have him cleave to her; and every glance, every halted breath, smoky spoken word or held thought mattered to him. She mattered to him, when she was inconvenient and unflinchingly honest, when she was competitive and bossy and distracted and prickly. When she wasn’t sure who she would become or what she had to offer. He was willing to love all those things, respect all that she was and encourage all she hoped to be.
That was more romance than anyone deserved.
He tucked his face against her neck. “Apparently there’s nothing wrong with my ears. You love me.”
In a way that made her feel both panicky and perfectly in control. Loving Reid was putting it all on the line, win, lose or draw, and knowing it was the only thing you ever wanted to do.
She kissed him, soft and tentative because this was a first kiss. Not a lover’s kiss, a tease, not part of a performance designed to build to a crescendo, but a statement all of its own. This kiss said, I found you, I trust you. I love you. He read it for what it was. He didn’t take it deeper, didn’t up the stakes. He let that kiss rest pure and strong between them and then he gave her words to raise its value higher.
“That means I can tell you I’ve been in love with you since the night you decked that guy in the alley.”
She gasped. Reid was a dickhead that night, staggering drunk and questioning her choices.
He cupped her face. “You called me on my shit that night and you’ve never stopped. That’s when I knew how much more you were than a dancer who wanted to fly.”
She’d almost left him on the sidewalk the next night when he was sick, and if she had, they’d never be here.
“That surprises you, baby.” She nodded and he brushed his thumb along her cheekbone. Stupid tears were building behind her eyes. “I wanted you. God, I was insensible for wanting you, from the first time I shuffled into Lucky’s looking to lose myself in a bottle and saw Lux on stage. But every man who sees Lux wants her. And you’re so much more than the sex I never dreamed I’d have you. Never thought you’d stay. I was lost, Zarley. I never knew I’d find a better self in you.”
She stepped onto his feet, stood on her toes, wiping an irritating tear away.
He caught the next one on his finger. “Is that good or bad?”
She sniffled. “If you break my heart, Reid McGrath, I’ll kill you.”
“Oh Christ.” He hugged her closer, hands going under her thighs, lifting her so she could wrap her legs around his waist and they were eye to eye. “Won’t happen. You won’t let it happen.”
“I need a rule.” Otherwise all her good intentions could unravel in the sheer force of Reid’s personality.
“Whatever you want.”
“You don’t get to buy me.”