I want that. And I want him to want it too.
He rubs my knuckle with this thumb.
I look into his eyes.
My anger fades because I believe him. I don’t think he meant to hurt me. And while he walked out on me, I walked out on him too.
I sigh.
“You said something yesterday that has bothered me. Well, you said a lot of things that bothered me, but one thing more than the others,” he says.
“What?” I yell as a bus honks its horn as it goes by.
He closes the small distance between us. He allows his face to grow serious—totally sober—before he speaks.
My skin prickles with anticipation of what he’s about to say. It could be so many things.
“You told me you loved me,” he says quietly.
I hold my breath as I try to read him.
Those words did pass through my lips on accident. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t mean it. Because out of all the things I said yesterday, that’s the one I meant the most.
I love Holt Mason. That’s why it hurts so bad.
I might’ve said it yesterday in a fit of emotions, but I didn’t realize I truly meant it. It wasn’t until I was on that website last night and researching pain did I understand that what I felt for Holt was love.
That’s why I trusted him enough to open up to him. It’s why I was willing to put myself out there and ask him to be a part of my life—because I couldn’t imagine mine without him. It’s also why his rejection was pure devastation.
But love is more than an emotion that makes you feel like your head is spinning. It’s respect. It’s support. It’s wanting both of you to be victorious in all you do.
All of those things are why I didn’t fall into an abyss like I did with Jack. Because you can’t be in love without loving yourself first. And Holt helped me love me before I loved him.
“Do you?” he asks. “Do you love me, Blaire?”
An ambulance whizzes by, its sirens blaring. I don’t give them a second thought. I just watch the man in front of me.
“Yeah. I do,” I tell him.
Before I know what’s happening, my face is cupped in his hands, and his lips are on mine.
The kiss is tender but rough, gentle but aggressive. It earns him a round of applause from the people on the sidewalk.
He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead on mine.
“You know, just because I said I love you doesn’t mean you can just kiss me like that,” I joke.
He chuckles. “What will it take to get your permission to kiss you like that then?”
“Tickets to every Kelvin McCoy concert in the area would help,” I say begrudgingly because I can’t resist the joke, even if I am still not sure what’s going to happen between us.
Holt drops my face and sighs dramatically. It makes me giggle.
“I’m serious, Blaire. This is it for me. You are it for me.” He smiles. “I love you. I love you. And it ate me up all night that I let you leave without telling you. I sat in my house, alone, and for the first time, I hated it.”
My bottom lip quivers as I take in the honesty of both his gaze and his words.
“I realized something else last night,” he says.
“What’s that?”
“Remember how I told you that my grandfather knew he was going to marry my grandmother the first time they met?”
I nod.
He grins. “I knew you were the one for me the first time I ran into you.”
I can’t help but grin back at him.
My heart fills again, my body coming alive at his words.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll fight for you, fight to convince you to love me back every day of my life if that’s what it takes to win you over.”
He’s already won me over. He just doesn’t know it yet.
My phone buzzes in my hand. I look down to see a text from Yancy.
“I have to get back to work,” I tell him.
He groans.
“I’m sorry. We all don’t run our own companies,” I tell him.
He closes the gap between us again as though he can’t stand for anything but inches to be between us. I don’t mind. I’ve never minded.
He takes my hand in his and locks our fingers together.
“I have two questions before you go save lives,” he says. “First, do you forgive me? And if you don’t, will you give me a chance to earn back your trust?”
I contemplate his question, but I already know the answer.
I messed up too. I should’ve communicated better. I shouldn’t have left and given him the chance to explain.
But I didn’t.
“I forgive you. Do you forgive me for leaving?”
“I never held it against you, sweetheart.”
I smile.
“My second question is this: what do you want, Blaire?”