I moved closer to him under the pretense of checking the wound, but once I was close enough that our thighs brushed against each other, I put my hand on his chest and lifted onto my knees.
“I was just thinking, you know, that the last two years have been pretty miserable for me. And I was wondering if maybe...” I leaned in, loving the feel of his breath as it skated over my moist lips. “Maybe you felt the same?”
“Daphne,” he breathed, his eyes dropping to my lips. “I—I can’t...”
“Can’t what?” I asked, sliding my hand up and around his neck.
Silas reached up and gently grasped my wrist, halting my progress and drawing my hand away from him. “I’m not the man for you, Daphne,” he said quietly, looking away from me, and I could feel my heart freezing in my chest.
“Not the man for me?” I repeated, leaning back and crossing my arms. “Well, then, tell me Silas. If you know me so well, what kind of man am I looking for? Who would be the right man for me, then, huh?”
For a moment, I didn’t think he would answer, that muscle in his jaw working harder than ever, but just when I made a move to leave, he spoke, his voice low and angry.
“I have nothing to offer you, Daphne. I grew up dirt poor, in the most literal sense of the word.” He paused, and I found myself staring at the side of his face as he hid from me. I could see his shame painted red on his cheeks, and I hated that he felt that way. I didn’t know much about how Silas grew up, but I had always assumed it was similar to Stone’s childhood, the happy life on the Texas ranch I had witnessed several times, with my older half-brother surrounded by love and family and friends.
It appeared that I had assumed wrong.
“I come from nothing, and I’ll always be nothing.” Silas finally looked at me, his eyes full of fire and sorrow and sadness, and my heart broke for him.
“Silas,” I started, wanting to correct him, wanting to prove him wrong, but he cut me off.
“I will always be that, Daphne. Always be the dirty kid from the wrong side of the tracks with the drunk father and the runaway mom. I don’t deserve to even be in the same room as you, never mind touch you. Stone was right. You—” He lifted his hand, reaching for my face, but stopped himself, instead clenching it into a fist and then pounding it into the grass beside him. “You are everything beautiful and lovely and precious and I could never in a million years give you what your father has provided for you. I can’t compete with those Wall Street schmucks and their big bank accounts, Daphne. Not in a million years.”
Where the hell was this coming from?
“So, it doesn’t matter, Daphne,” he went on, continuing to spill all his insecurities at my feet. “It doesn’t matter how much I love you or whether or not your brother has anything to say about it, because you deserve so much more than I could ever provide.”
He was breathing hard by the time he was done, his chest heaving with the emotion his speech had wrought.
“Do you mean that?” I asked quietly.
“You know I do. I am just a security guy, Daphne. I barely make—”
“No,” I cut in, raising a finger in the air to halt him. “Not all that bullshit you spewed about trying to live up to my father’s bank account. I want to know if you meant it when you said that you loved me.”
His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, and I could see him mentally playing back his words, confirming to himself that he had indeed said it out loud.
“I, uh. Yes?”
“Come on, Silas. You had a lot to say there a minute ago. Tons of ideas about who I am and what I want and need in my life, and now you can’t answer a simple question about yourself?” I stared hard, watching as he swallowed thickly. “Do you love me?”
Sucking in a deep breath, Silas met my eyes and said, “Yes, Daphne. I love you. I have loved this whole time.”
My heart soared, the rush of emotions exploding in my chest like fireworks, but I kept my face as neutral as possible.
Because I wasn’t done.
“Silas, you talk about coming from nothing, but I could say the same. I come from nothing that matters. All the money and clothes and cars and things... all of that is only stuff. I have a mother who only sees me as an accessory, something to be used to gain favor or social standing, and is then forgotten about the rest of the time. I have a sister who hates me for no reason I can fathom, an absentee father who tried his best but was so busy working he was rarely around, and a brother who is so emotionally closed off, you’d need an ice pick just to crack his shell.”
“Stone loves you,” he cut in, defending his friend to the last.
“I know he does,” I conceded. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I barely know him. I don’t really know anyone in my circle. The few people I would call friends care more about their social media following than someone else’s feelings. My life has been a constant parade of vapid engagements with self-important people who would spit on your face if it meant they could get even one step farther ahead.”
I leaned closer, my own anger rising as I spoke. “So don’t sit here and tell me how you are nothing when the fact that you love me means everything, Silas.” He opened his mouth to speak, but I kept going, not wanting to give him a chance to try and talk himself out of anything. “And for the record, I would much rather be down here in the dirt with you,” I insisted, gesturing to our position in the grass on the side of the road, “than anywhere else in the world with any of them.”
I finished on a heavy breath, proud of myself for not crying considering the depth of emotion I currently had rampaging through my body.
But Silas didn’t even give me a moment to think before he wrapped one hand around the back of my neck and hauled me to him, devouring me in a desperate kiss.