Page 31 of My Girl to Ruin

“Because you’re not,” I whisper.

He steps closer, close enough that I can feel the heat of him, the tension radiating off his body. “You asked me if any of it was real,” he says, his voice more intense now. “If this…” his hand lifts slightly, hovering between us, “was just me paying something back.”

“Yeah,” I say softly. “I did.”

His gaze locks onto mine. “No. It’s not an obligation. It never was." I didn’t plan this. I didn’t want this. Not because of you, but because I knew what it would do to you if I couldn’t give you everything you deserved.” He pauses. “And I still don’t think I deserve you. But that doesn’t change the fact that I—” He stops. Just for a second. “I love you.”

The words land between us, heavy and undeniable. Everything inside me stills.

“I’ve loved you longer than I should have,” he continues. “Longer than you think. It didn’t start when you came back. It’s been there under all of it—under the guilt, under everything I didn’t know how to deal with.”

Tears blur my vision.

“In prison, you were the only thing that made any of it bearable. And when I got out, there wasn’t anything left. No reason to do anything, care about anything.” His hand finally lifts, brushing lightly against my arm. “Then you came back. And suddenly there was.”

A tear slips down my cheek, and I don’t wipe it away. I can’t. Because everything I’ve wanted to hear, everything I was too afraid to hope for, is right here.

“I’m not doing this because I owe Tyler,” he says, his thumb brushing lightly against my skin. “I’m doing this because you’re the only thing that feels right when nothing else does.”

My breath trembles as I look up at him, my heart wide open in a way that feels terrifying and freeing all at once. “You mean that?” I whisper.

He doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah.” The certainty in his voice breaks something in me. In the best way.

“You broke me, Lachlan,” I confess.

“I know.”

“You broke my heart,” My voice goes to pieces, and then so do I, both fists coming down against his chest with no strength behind them at all.

He takes it. He pulls me in and holds me. “I know, kitten,” he says into my hair. “Forgive me,” he whispers.

I pull back and gaze at him. “I love you too,” I say.

And for the first time since all of this started, everything feels aligned. The words settle between us, heavy and fragile at the same time. We stand there, breathing unevenly, staring at each other.

Then he moves. Slowly. Deliberately.

His hand slides from my arm to my waist, drawing me in with a care that feels different from before. My breath catches as I step into him without hesitation.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispers. His forehead rests against mine, his breath warm against my lips.

“I’ve missed you too,” I whisper back.

He closes the distance between us, his lips finding mine in a kiss that feels nothing like the others, nothing like the desperate, consuming pull that defined everything before. This one is slower. Deeper. Something that settles instead of overwhelms.

He responds instantly, his grip tightening at my waist, his mouth moving against mine with a restraint that somehow makes it more intense. My fingers slide into his hair as I press closer, my body fitting against his like it always has.

He pulls back to look at me, his hand lifting to cup my face. His thumb brushes lightly against my cheek as his gaze searches mine, softer now, open in a way I’ve never seen before.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmurs.

I let out a small, shaky breath, my heart racing. “I think I’m starting to.”

Something in his expression shifts at that, something warm breaking through the edges of everything else. He kisses me again, slower, taking his time. He guides me back gently, his hands steady.

My pulse quickens as the edge of the bed meets the back of my knees, and I sink down, pulling him with me. We sink into the mattress together, his weight settling over me, and it feels like coming home. His mouth never leaves mine, the kiss deepening slowly, endlessly, like we have all the time in the world now.

“Lachlan,” I breathe against his lips, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw, memorizing the feel of him.