He cups my cheek. Runs his fingers over my skin and beard. “It’s okay.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. It’s like when you told me how you felt about me potentially going to Spain for six weeks. You needed to tell me how you felt. I needed you to tell me how you felt, but there was no pressure behind your words. No order or request for me to stay. This is the same. I don’t want you to say those words unless you want to. Unless it feels right in every fibre of your being.”
My throat is rough and aching. The backs of my eyes itch and prickle. What if I can’t ever say it? How long will he be able to remain patient with me?
“Books and films always confuse me,” Kian says.
“Why?” Where is he going with this? I’m sure he has a point. He always does.
“The ‘I love you’ moment always happens in tandem. There’s always a moment, usually in the last five minutes of a romance film, where they declare their love and have their first kiss. But I don’t think love works that way. Do you?”
I stare at him. What is he asking?
“Two hearts feeling the exact same way at the exact same moment. That’s like all the stars aligning or a convergence of the planets or something.”
I frown.
He laughs. “Which is my way of saying it must be a super rare event. But I guess films and books can be like that. They’re fiction after all. That perfect alignment of the stars can happen. But in real life, I don’t think it does. Some people fall in love easily, and some people don’t. Some people are confident enough to blurt out an ‘I love you’, while others are more reserved. They need time to be sure. Please tell me you understand what I’m trying to say because I’m running out of steam here.”
I chuckle and smile at the same time.
“That’s better,” Kian says. “You have such a gorgeous smile. Don’t hide it.”
I tip my head forward and rest my forehead against his. “Thank you for understanding.”
“I do,” he whispers. “I really do.”
“And thank you for being honest with me.”
“Yeah, well, I bottled up how I felt for you once, which led to a fight, so I’m not going to do that again.” He runs his thumb over my bottom lip. “Let’s go to yours. I need to be close to you.”
“I’d like that.” I kiss his thumb.
“I don’t have lectures until the afternoon tomorrow. Although I do have my meeting with my tutor, but that’s not crazy early.”
“Is that your way of saying you can sleep over?”
He grins. “Yes. If you want me to.”
“I do.”
He holds my hand and tugs me gently. “Let’s go.”
* * *
We hold hands all the way back to my flat. Kian keeps brushing his thumb over my knuckles. I don’t quite understand it, but his touch comforts and grounds me like nothing else can. My heart continues to ache as it wages war with the thoughts in my head. I hate thinking about Erica so much. If only I could consign every memory of her to the deepest recesses of my mind and lock them away forever. But I can’t. My mind wants to bring her to the foreground to remind me of what happened when I dared to say ‘I love you’.
The moment we’re inside, Kian puts his hand on my nape and guides my mouth to his for a needy, urgent kiss that’s potent enough to chase the storm clouds in my head away, at least for now.
“I need you,” he whispers. “So much.”
“I need you too.” That’s an easy thing to say. Lust is love’s cousin, but they’re not the same. Lust is hot and sweaty and doesn’t get your heart ripped in two.
He takes my top off and then his and pulls me into the bedroom. He tips me onto the bed and makes short work of removing the rest of my clothes.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” He licks his lips and leans over me, kissing me on the lips. He moves down and swipes his tongue over my left nipple and then my right.
