Starting with whether or not the love of my life loved me back.
I was already dressed and waiting, latte in hand, when she woke up the next morning. She looked up at me with a sated, sleepy smile. Like a woman who had spent the half the night getting fucked sideways. Because she had.
"Good morning."
"Coffee?" I asked, passing her her signature drink.
"Thank you." She sat up, straightening the T-shirt she had put on sometime in the night. "You didn't have to do that."
"Baby, you should know by now that I only do what I want. Whether I have to is irrelevant. Besides, I want you fully awake for this." She stared back at me, puzzled. While she sipped her latte, I swallowed my nerves. "Here's the thing . . . I've been doing some thinking about this whole 'just friends' thing, and I don't think it's going to work out."
"Oh." An adorable crease blossomed between her brows. "Okay."
"And that's because I'm in love with you."
There was no hiding from it now. Not when I had laid my cards out, front and center, and bet it all. From here on out, it was all up to her.Dealer's choice.
"Soren," she croaked, her eyes filling with moisture.
"You don't have to say it back. I just thought you should know thatthis," I said, gesturing between the two of us, "is more than friendship to me. And I'm not talking about sex, I'm talking about you and me together. For real. Because I can't imagine my life without you in it."
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she buried her face behind her hands. For a second, I thought I might have overstepped, pushed her too far, too quickly. Were grown women supposed to cry hysterically when you poured your heart out? I'd only said those words to my high school sweetheart, and even then, my eighteen-year-old heart had barely understood what that meant at the time.
Clarke had made me feel things I'd never felt before, things I'd never thought I deserved to feel.
I peeled her hands away from her face. "You okay?"
"Fine," she said around a sniffle. "That's the sweetest thing anybody's every said to me."
"Well, give me some time, blondie. I can make things even sweeter."
I wrapped a hand around her freckled neck and ran a thumb over her thrumming pulse. When I leaned in to connect our lips, she met me halfway. It would have been so easy to fall back into bed and make love to her again, if she hadn't pulled away prematurely.
"I can't do this."
My shoulders tensed. All of me tensed. "Do what?"
She wrestled with the bedsheets, drawing her bare legs up to her chest. I didn't like seeing her like this—withdrawn and vulnerable—and I definitely didn't want to be the person who made her feel that way. But I also knew that there was a very good chance of me spending the rest of my life with this woman, so we needed to be on the same page.
"Soren." For the rest of my life, I would never forget the way she said my name just then. Full of painful longing and false hope. "You are a formidable human being, an incredible leader for your teammates, and the best uncle any kid could hope for. You're also the best man that I've ever known."
Why did it feel like she was saying goodbye?
"But—"
"We've been here before, blondie. You know there's only one butt I'm interested in."
She barely cracked a smile.
"Here's the thing. I don't know if I'm ready to be . . . somebody else's girlfriend."
My brows pulled together. "I don't want you to be somebody else's girlfriend. I want you to be my girlfriend."
Wasn't that obvious?
"That's not what I mean." She heaved a sigh. "Give me a second."
A part of me was relieved to know that I wasn't the only one lost in this conversation. What the fuck was she talking about?
