The hard edge of his expression drops, and the cocky, stubborn mask falls away. What remains is raw, unguarded pain. ‘Because I fucking love you, and I don’t know how to stop!’
Something in my chest fractures. Sternum? Heart? I don’t know. I just know I can’t stop shaking.
‘I had no idea love would do that to me, because I clearly have never been in love, but it does. I love you, and I will strangle anyone with my bare fucking hands if they ever say something mean about you or hurt you.’
‘What did you just say?’ I whisper.
He blinks. ‘That I’ll strangle?—’
‘No. Before that.’
‘I love you, Theo.’
There it is again. Out in the open. No jokes or caveats. My heart lurches, and my vision fuzzes at the edges. Edinburgh’s lights blur beneath us. The car suddenly feels too small, too hot, too everything.
‘I love how your brain works three steps ahead of everyone else’s. I love how you fix everything without taking credit. I love your lists. And your tits. Not necessarily in that order.’
My lungs have forgotten their one job.
‘I love how you make everyone feel safe,’ he continues, each word gaining momentum. ‘That you bring shortbread to police stations at two-thirty in the morning.’ He gestures at the tin. ‘I mean, who does that?’
‘I do,’ I whisper.
‘Aye. You. I’ve never met anyone like you. And I tried so hard not to love you, I swear. But you’re…’ He runs a hand through his hair, searching for words. ‘You’re a part of my soul. And I have no idea how you got there.’
I try to laugh, but it comes out wet. My eyes sting.
‘I didn’t go to Marseille because of you,’ he continues. ‘I couldn’t.’
‘But the money, your career?—’
‘Fuck the money. I’d rather be here, fighting for something real, than rich, alone, and miserable in France.’
Another tear escapes, and this time I don’t bother wiping it away. ‘You can’t make career decisions based on…on…’
‘Love? Watch me.’ The corner of his mouth lifts. ‘Say something, Theo.’
‘So you’re really staying? For good?’
‘Aye. Was always going to, baby.’
‘Finn…’ I take a shaky breath. ‘I think I love you, too?’
‘Is that a question? I thought you don’t do uncertainty.’
‘I’ve never felt something like this before, so I don’t have enough data.’ My voice wobbles. ‘The sample size is limited.’
‘Shut up, List Girl.’ He reaches across the centre console, his hands gentle as they frame my face. ‘You’re the smartest, kindest, most loyal, fucking sexy woman I’ve ever met.’ He leans in. ‘And I’m done pretending I’m not gone for you.’
His mouth is on mine before I can even respond. And it’s not a soft kiss. It’s bruising and filthy with need, messy and aching and real. The handbrake jabs my leg, but I’m long past caring about anything other than him.
I make a tiny sound in my throat. My body knows exactly what it wants.
‘I didn’t mean to fall for you, Finn. But here I am.’
‘Well, tough shite, MacMickin. Because I’m all in. You hear me? All in.’
Both of us are still breathless. My lips are tingling from the kiss. If you can call it a kiss; it felt more like a claim and detonation. I sit there, straddling the line between dizzy and starving, my thighs clenched tight, my brain glitching in multiple directions. He’s here. And he loves me.
