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“I know I am. I’m just not sure you are, Stone. And it’s fucking killing me,” he confesses, his eyes crinkling at the sides so that I don’t see them start to water.
I take his head into my open palms, softly cradling his cheeks.
“I’ve never been in love.”
“I know,” he replies, his eyes dropping to the floor in disappointment.
“I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it, either.”
He lets out another long exhale, his eyes still not able to look directly at mine.
“I’ll go to the party, Fi
“No, it’s okay. If you’re not ready for it, then I just have to give you time,” he replies in defeat.
“I want to go. I want to meet your family and your friends,” I state assertively, tightening my grip on his face.
“Why?”
“Because they’re important to you, and you are important to me,” I admit with such certainty that his somber features begin to soften if only just a little bit.
“Okay.” He nods, but I still feel him miles away.
Damn it all to hell!
Why can’t I say it?
Why can’t I tell him I’m in love with him, too? Because I am. As much as it frightens me, I know that this gut-wrenching feeling can only spring from falling in love. So why can’t I just give him what he so desperately wants? Why?
Because the minute I do, he’ll have all the power, that’s why.
I won’t be in control anymore, and that means he’ll be able to hurt me more than anyone ever has. I might act brave and courageous, but when it comes to my heart, I’m a coward, and I know it. I’ve seen what love can do. How it can break a person and leave them in ragged fragments that no glue could ever repair. Love is a deadly virus that kills the best of us, destroys our dreams and our inspirations if we let it. It’s a gun aimed at our chests, and we’re the ones with the itchy trigger finger. Love is a game of Russian roulette, and I, for one, never thought I’d be pulled into play.
That is until Fi He deserves better, and when he realizes it, he’ll end up leaving, and I’ll be a shattered mess. I can’t let that happen. As much as his pain is drowning me in my own, admitting he has my heart will be the real begi It’s better to cause pain than feel it. Maybe the kindest thing would be to end this now. It would be a less cruel alternative, but my selfish heart won’t let go of him. Not when I just found him. One day he’ll leave, either by his own volition or by me doing the pushing for him. All I can do now is enjoy the time we have together, because the minute he admitted he loved me, he switched on the timer. The countdown has begun and who knows what time is left in store for us. A week? A month? A year? Whatever we get, it will never be enough. All I can do is make the precious time we do have, count. Even if that means attending a fancy soiree on the north end of town with all of Asheville’s elite. I’m pacing back and forth on the paved sidewalk, aggravated I let Fi I look at my phone again and realize that he’s late by fifteen minutes. Very unlike him since Fi “You’re Stone, right? Stone Be Ke “I am,” I reply, cocking my brow up as to why she, of all people, is suddenly talking to me. Her smile widens even more as she looks me up and down appreciatively, not even being discreet about it, either. “Hi, I’m Ke As if I needed an introduction on who Montgomery Ryland’s only daughter is. I think everyone at Richfield knows the dean’s children. “I know who you are,” I quip back, crossing my arms over my chest, looking every which way around the street instead of giving her the time of day. However, from my peripheral, I can see that not even my cold greeting has her bright smile wavering in the slightest, which gives Ke I heard the Ryland twins were sharp as tacks, but maybe her twin, Jefferson, got more in the brains department than her. So far, Ke “Fi “You know Fi “All my life. We grew up together, and I have to say, I never thought I’d see that boy be so enamored with someone. Now that I’ve met you, I can see why he’s fallen so hard.” I try to keep my blush at bay, but the little smirk she throws at me tells me I’m doing a terrible job at it. “I was waiting for him, actually,” I state, completely deflecting her comment about how Fi “Actually, you’re here to meet me, not Fi Hesitantly, I step inside the extravagant boutique, instantly noting how the store clerks bombard Ke “I’m going to make a little confession here,” she begins to susurrate in my ear, my hackles rising in preparation for whatever she’s going to lay on me. She begins to giggle, her head falling all the way back, the sound of her laughter not as a