"You were reckless, and I drove you to that. If you got hurt to prove a point, to get back at me for some petty rivalry that we can't seem to outrun…" my voice cracks. "I couldn't live with myself if things turned out differently today. But I can let you go. I'll suffer through a life without you if it means you'll have a tomorrow."
"It's not fake." She swallows hard and slowly brings my hand to rest over her heart, palm flat against her chest where it's still racing. "When I touch you, when I kiss you…it's never once been fake."
"Then what is it?"
"It's the only time I'm not scared." A tear spills down her cheek, cutting a clean line through the dust. "You're as close to real as I've ever felt. When I'm with you like that, I can forget that I don't know how to do this."
"Do what?"
"This." She gestures between us helplessly. "Let someone love me and be brave enough to tell them I love them back."
"No," I shake my head. "Don't you dare tell me you love me. A stronger man can swallow that lie, but I'm not him."
"It's not a lie." She steps even closer, and now we're almost chest to chest, her breath mixing with mine in the dusty air. "I've loved you since the day I told you I hoped you hated strawberries."
I bark out a laugh that's more pain than humor. "That's a hell of a way to show love."
"When you showed up at Ridgewood, I didn't hate you because my father told me to." She pauses when I quirk a brow, not buying it. "Okay, maybe a little, but that piece wasn't as big as the other piece." Her hand comes up to my face, and her fingers trace my jaw. "You were a living, breathing piece of home, and memories of my mother were tied up in you. I neverhated you. I only ever wanted to because you made me feel, and that scared me. If I didn't have you, I couldn't lose you."
The confession breaks something open in my chest. "So you kept me at arm's length."
"I tried to." Her thumb brushes across my lower lip, and I can't stop the sharp intake of breath. "But you wouldn't stay away. You kept pushing. Kept showing up. Kept making me feel things I didn't want to feel."
"I couldn't stay away." My voice is barely above a whisper. "Even when I should have. Even when you hated me. Even when loving you felt like the stupidest thing I could do."
"You love me?" she asks again, like she still can't quite believe it, like hearing it the first time wasn't enough.
"Yes." I turn my head, pressing a kiss to her palm. "God help me, yes. I love you. I've loved you for so long I can't remember what it feels like not to."
Her hands slide around my neck, and she's pulling me down, rising on her toes, and this time when our lips meet, I don't pull away. She tastes like salt and dust and coming home. Her hands are everywhere in my hair, on my shoulders, sliding down my chest to work at the buttons of my vest, and I don't stop her. I need her more than I need air.
"This doesn't fix everything," I murmur against her mouth, even as my fingers find the hem of her shirt. "I'm still furious about that stunt you just pulled."
"Furious, huh?"
She's pulling at my shirt now, untucking it, and a low groan escapes my throat when I feel her hands on my heated flesh. She bites my lip hard, and I'm sure it draws blood.
"Yeah." I walk her backward until her back hits the opposite wall.
"Then why don't you stop talking and make me feel it?" she challenges.
"Sweetheart, you have no idea what you're asking for." I kiss her hard, our tongues hungrily battling to prove to each other that we're all in. That this is real. "Turn around."
She hesitates for just a second, and I see the flash of vulnerability beneath her boldness, before she relents. Turning, she faces the wall, her palms pressed flat against the rough wood.
I step in close behind her, and my lips are at her ear when I ask, "You want to know how angry you made me?"
"Yes." Her voice is barely a whisper now.
My hands slide around to the front of her riding pants, my fingers working the button. "Then I'm going to show you." I ease the fabric down slowly over her hips and down her thighs until it pools around her ankles. Her breathing changes, and she can't hide the way her body trembles with anticipation. She's unsure of what she just asked for, but her obedience tells me she wants whatever I have to give.
I place one hand on the small of her back, steadying her, before I unleash my anger.
"This is for thinking I lied to you." My other hand comes down sharp against her ass, and the sound echoes in the small space.
She gasps then moans, her fingers curling against the wood.
"This is for making me the enemy." Another slap, harder this time, and her whole body arches.
