“I couldn’t risk you leaving. Not before I had a chance to talk to you.”
“Talk to me then.”
“I want to apologize for last night. I realize what I said was hurtful, and though I didn’t mean it that way, it’s how it came out. I was stressed and tired, but that’s no excuse.” He sighed. “It was thoughtless and I’m sorry. More than I can say.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
“What are you sorry for, Sprite?”
I shrugged, feeling self-conscious. “I am a nervous driver. I always have been.”
“Still, it didn’t give me the right to tease you, or behave the way I did.”
“I overreacted.”
“We both did for different reasons. I was overtired, not thinking, and being an idiot.” He hesitated and touched my cheek with the tip of his finger. “And I think something I said brought up a bad memory for you, am I right?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
“My last boyfriend didn’t think very highly of me and liked to point out all the things I did wrong, which by the end of our relationship seemed to be almost everything. The day he broke up with me he said a lot of nasty things, including the fact I was a boring stick-in-the-mud, nothing but trouble, and he was glad to be rid of me.”
“And I said the same thing.”
I bit my lip, unsure if I trusted myself to speak. My throat was tight with emotion.
“I don’t want rid of you. I want you with me—always.” He inched forward, his voice softening. “I thought I would go crazy not being able to find you. All I could think about was I had blown the best thing I’d ever found in my life.”
“All I could think about was I couldn’t stand to not be perfect in your eyes,” I admitted, my eyes filling up with tears.
“You are perfect,” he insisted. “You’re perfect for me.”
“Bad driving and all?”
“You aren’t a bad driver—a little overcautious, but not bad. I’m sorry I said that.” He tightened his hands on my hips. “Can you forgive me?”
“Yes. Am I forgiven?”
“Always. It was an argument. One we’re going to move forward from—it’s not the end. Did you really think it was?”
As I nodded, admitting my fear, relief flooded through me and tears ran down my cheeks. He wiped them away tenderly.
“It’s not. Far from it. Don’t, Sprite. Don’t cry.”
I sniffed. “Sorry. I guess I’m being a girl.”
“My girl,” he stated firmly. Daniel stared at me, his gaze turning from serious and sad to a warmer, gentler expression. “I guess we just had our first fight.”
“I guess so.”
His hands slid to my waist as he dropped his head to my neck. “Do you know what that means?” His hot breath drifted across my skin, making me shiver.
“What?”
“It means we need to make up now.” He lifted his head, his expression mischievous.
“Is that a fact?”