But I kept going.

“Even after I realized that nothing was your fault, I still couldn’t stop trying to hate you. It felt good, because I couldn’t hurt who I wanted to hurt.”

Silent tears fell down her face again, and—goddammit—I didn’t want Tate crying over me anymore. We’d had a hell of a lot of good growing up, and I wanted it back.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, taking her face in my hands, hoping like hell she didn’t punch me. “I know I can make this up to you. Don’t hate me.”

She shook her head. “I don’t hate you. I mean…” she shot me a little scowl, “I’m a little pissed, but mostly I just hate the wasted time.”

Yes.

I grabbed her, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her into me.

She was fucking mine. I wanted to scream and smile at the same time. I molded my forehead to hers, my lips hungry to taste her as I breathed her in.

“You said you loved me,” she whispered. “I hate that we lost that.” Nothing was lost.

I lifted her up, guided her legs around me, and walked us to the bed, feeling the heat of her center on my stomach.

“We never lost that.” My hand was on her cheek, and I brought her eyes up to meet mine. “As much as I tried, I could never erase you from my heart. That’s why I was such an asshole and kept guys away from you. You were always mine.”

“Are you mine?” she asked, wiping her tears with her thumb.

Her shaky breath caressed my face, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. Lightly kissing the corner of her mouth, I whispered against her lips, “Always have been.”

She wrapped her arms around me, and I just held her, close and tight. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Are you?” I shot back, not deluding myself for a second that the last three years hadn’t been hell for her, too.

“I will be.”

If we had each other, we were going to be okay. “I love you, Tate.”

And I fell back on the bed, bringing her with me, hopefully forever.

“Jared, you’re poking me.” Tate’s sleepy whimper stirs me awake, and it takes me a few moments to open my eyes.

Poking her? I check my hands, which aren’t even touching her, and then I feel the fire and tightness in my pants.

Shit.

I roll over onto my back, so I’m not spooning her anymore, and run my hands over my face. My dick is hard again, and I’m shivering with discomfort and embarrassment.

This happens a lot lately.

Date: 2015-02-16; view: 672