“Yes, you can.” I handed him my glass. “And could you please get this gentleman a whiskey?”
He nodded. “Right away.”
Jay’s gaze was steely. “I’m not in the habit of letting a woman order a drink for me,” he informed me in a flat, dry tone.
I grinned at him. “Oh, honey, if we’re gonna be friends, you may have to get a little bit flexible about your habits and your rules.”
Jay didn’t speak as the attendant handed us our drinks.
I held up my flute. “To you winning my best friend back and learning to relax a little.”
To my absolute surprise, he clinked his glass with mine.
“Karson is totally fucked,” he observed.
I beamed at him. “I know. Isn’t it great?”
Everything turned out wonderfully with Stella and Jay.
I went to see her first. It immediately hit me, the heartbreak that seeped out of her every fucking pore. It made my heart bleed, to see my friend in that much pain. It also scared the shit out of me.
“He will be your destruction.”
The words rang in my ears.
I pushed them away. I was here for Stella. And luckily, it all worked out for her. Well, her and Jay likely had a lot more to hammer out. Because, in reality, the grand gesture of flying across the world to declare your undying love for someone after hurting them was just the beginning.
There would be mountains to climb.
But I had hope it would work out.
As for Karson and me, there was not a mountain to be seen. I’d rented a cottage on the beach, and we barely left it. Which was terrible, really, considering the untouched beauty of New Zealand. But we hadn’t had that much uninterrupted time with each other … ever. He cooked for me. He fucked me. And … yeah, that was it. It was wonderful. Absolutely fucking wonderful.
Like some kind of dream.
“I love it here,” I said to him as we sat on the beach watching the sun set on our last day. “I love us here. It’s so peaceful.”
“Sweetheart, you’d be bored to tears with peaceful in about three more days.”
I poked my tongue out at him, even though he wasn’t wrong. As much as I’d adored what we had here, it was only special because I knew it was temporary. We both needed more to our lives. Karson needed the darkness of his life in the underworld, I needed the chaos … wherever that took me.
The waves crashed gently on the sand. I stared back out at them, sucking in a breath as I struggled to find the courage.
“I didn’t say it back,” I whispered. “When you told me you loved me. I didn’t say it back.”
“You don’t need to, sweetheart,” Karson told me in a soft tone that broke my heart.
I turned to him. “Yes, I do. I do need to say it back. I need to give it to you. Because you saying it was the most precious gift I’ve ever received.”
“I’ve never been in love,” I admitted. “I tell myself I have, because it’s so much more interesting. But I’ve never felt attached to anyone. Never given a second thought to them after I was done, once I got bored. It was rather nasty of me, really, because a lot of them told themselves they loved me too. They didn’t, of course. I never gave them anything tangible to love, but they loved the idea of me. And they were prone to dramatics because the men I broke up with were not used to a woman walking away from them. Which, of course, made me all the more desirable to them.” I rolled my eyes. “You men are all so predictable.”
My eyes ran over the man I loved. He wasn’t wearing a suit. Hadn’t in the entire time we were here. For the very first time, I’d seen him in jeans. In swimming trunks. I’d seen him in the daylight. It was something rather spectacular.
“Except you,” I murmured. “You are the farthest thing from predictable. You’re … menacing, sweet, worldly, kind, a great chef, you’re the best fuck I’ve ever had. You read historical romances. You garden. You contain multitudes. I know I’ll never be bored with you. Always be safe with you.” I took a breath. “I love you.”
The words that I’d been dreading saying for however long, the ones I was sure would taste bitter, like the end of things, tasted sweeter than anything I’d tasted. My body relaxed fully after saying them.
Karson leaned forward to kiss me. Tenderly. Slowly. With reverence. Then he pulled back so his eyes met mine. “I know I was living before we met,” he rasped. “I was content with the life I had. I wasn’t searching for more. For better. For anything. But then I looked into your eyes. Saw you square your shoulders, ready to take me on for your friend. Ready to jump in front of a fucking train for someone you love.” He reached up to brush a hair from my face.