“Because I don’t.” My voice is sharp, my meaning clear.I don’t want to ruin you. “Look what I’ve done with my life. I’m a murderer. I’ve never done a single fucking good thing. I ruin whatever good I get. Look at Asher. Look at you.” I cup her cheek, the mark glaring against her skin. “I don’t want to ruin you anymore, Ella. You’re too good. Too good for me, too good for the shit life I could give you.”
“It isn’t about the life you could give me, Gable. It’s about the life we build together.” Her lip trembles, and her breath shakes. “Maybe apart we’re a mess, but together … together we’re a team. Life is really fucking shitty sometimes, and I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but there’s no one else I want to go through it with.” My heart aches with every word, and I rest my forehead against hers. “I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”
She presses her lips to mine, and I taste her tears, her promises, the future she wants. With me. She wraps herarms around my neck, pressing her body into mine, and I deepen the kiss.
“I love you,” I whisper against her lips. “I love you so fucking much.”
Words I’ve only ever said to Asher. Words that only seemed to matter with him.
Now, they mean something entirely different, but just as fucking much.
I love her, even though I shouldn’t.
I need her, even though it might not work.
I’ll keep her, even though she deserves more.
The moment is everything. It’s a rush I thought I could never feel, a kind of hope I’ve only ever experienced as a kid dreaming of more.
Anything feels possible.
Everything feels possible.
With her.
“You really love me?” She sobs out the words.
“I don’t just love you, Gibson. I wish for you.”
Chapter 41
Ella
Tangled up in covers, Gable kisses my throat gently. I’m in my pajamas, my body too sore to do anything other than lie here. My thigh is throbbing, my cheek is, too, and all I can think about is sleeping. So, we showered, changed, got into bed, and haven’t moved.
So much has happened that I feel beyond exhausted, but since Gable said those words to me, I can’t stop looking at him. I feel more connected to him than I ever have and want nothing more than to leave with him.
“Do you want to talk about tonight?” Gable asks, resting his head against the pillow and watching me.
“Sure. I love you, you love me, yay! Happily ever after.”
He huffs a laugh. “You know that’s not what I mean. Also, don’t expect me to be all lovey dovey now. I had no choice in this whole feelings thing.”
“Oh, you so did,” I say. “You love me.”
“Barely.”
“Adore me.”
“Slightly.”
“Crave me?—”
“Stop avoiding the subject, Gibson.” He grips my chin gently while searching my eyes. “Some fucked-up shit happened in that cabin.”
Yes, it did. We came close to death, to some awful things, but whenever I think about it—the pain, the hands around my wrists …
I wince. I recoil. I want to hide from my own mind. We’re silent for a moment, but I can’t summon the courage to talk. Maybe one day … but not now.
