Page 83 of Break My Heart

“I’m comfortable with any and all of what happened last night. In fact, I’m hoping we can do it again soon,” I admit.

That elicits a wicked smile. “I feel comfortable agreeing with that.”

Then I blurt out, “I don’t want you to feel like you have to forgive me for what I did because we slept together again.”

Her brow quirks. “You’ve met me, right? Do you think I’d do that?”

“I think you’re someone who evaluates risk and calculates outcomes. I don’t want you factoring my well-deserved guilt into any forgiveness I haven’t earned.”

“Last night happened because we both wanted it. I trust you’re committed to earning my trust differently.”

I huff out a quiet breath, shaking my head. “That’s exactly what I was hoping you’d say.”

Her voice takes on a teasing note. “Shame. It was such a compelling strategy.”

“Christin.” But even I can’t restrain the humor in my voice.

“Don’t worry, Leo.”

“I do.”

“One night didn’t make me forget. It simply reminded me what’s worth fighting for.”

I deadpan, “So, sex with me didn’t wipe your brain clear?”

She laughs. “No. You’re good.”

“Good?” I fake indignation.

She amends herself, “Incredibly good. But not that good.”

I groan.

She grins. “You’ll have to earn the rest the old-fashioned way.”

Before I can speak, she sobers, her humor softens into something achingly real. “What you said, it mattered.”

“Of all the stupid things I’ve done or said, hurting you is going to haunt me.”

“I know I trust you again, but our relationship is going to be different this time.”

“I wouldn’t expect it to be the same.”

Her eyes narrow slightly. “No?”

“No,” I repeat. “If it were, I’d question whether either of us actually learned anything.”

Christin rolls up so she can fully face me, sunlight spilling across her bare shoulder as she studies me with the same intensity she uses when she’s trying to determine whether a system is stable or moments away from collapse. “And what exactly did you learn?”

I exhale slowly, brushing my fingers along her waist over the sheet. “That loving someone and trusting them with the worst parts of you are two different things.”

Her gaze flickers to my lips. “And?”

“We spent so much time talking to each other that we forgot to actually communicate with each other.”

For a moment, she says nothing. Then, “No, neither of us did.”

Her acceptance settles deep inside my soul because she’s still willing to be with me, instead of walking away.