Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Now that he mentioned it, I felt a little bit foolish. Why had it never occurred to me that he meant the freaking boathouse? Why hadn’t I called him and yelled at him? Why hadn’t I asked him to explain or even demanded an apology?
Because I’d spent thirty-two years knowing this guy had the capacity to break my heart, and even now, it was hard to believe he wouldn’t. Because retreating from hurt and pretending I was unaffected was my best and only defense mechanism.
I stared at JT as my throat got tighter and tighter, and stupid tears pricked the backs of my eyes. I’d been so damn wrong, so damn often, that the magnitude of it overwhelmed me. But I couldn’t find the words to get us past this, to explain in a way that would make him understand and make us okay again, without getting into a deep, emotional conversation that I couldn’t handle at that moment.
I was literally swaying on my feet from fatigue, and this conversation had sapped the very last bits of my energy.
JT watched me carefully, and his eyes softened a second before he dragged me toward him and buried his face in my hair.
Do not pity me, I wanted to warn him, feeling my hackles rise. Do not apologize again for something that was my damn fault as much as yours—
“I had no mittens,” he whispered mournfully.
“W-what?” That was the absolute last thing I’d expected to come out of his mouth.
“No mittens. I was like one of those bedraggled Oliver Twist orphans… but, you know, dressed in an L.L.Bean parka instead of rags and carrying a giant bag of candy instead of a bowl of gruel.”
The image was so absurd that I snort-giggled. “You poor thing. I stood outside so long Willow was convinced I’d developed an interest in astrology. She made me read a book about the impact of planetary bodies on our chakras and drink epic quantities of hawthorn berry tea to realign my Anahata.”
I felt his nod. “I had to eat the candy,” he whispered in that same sad voice. “Just to survive.”
My whole body shook with laughter. “You ate my candy?” I demanded. “The candy you brought for me? You’re such a fucking Wellbridge.”
Then JT was laughing, too, his arms tightening to hold me against him as we both doubled over at our utter ridiculousness. And suddenly, we were okay. More okay than before. Because JT was a good man—a man who knew when I needed to be held, and when I needed to be held down, when I needed tender truths and when I needed teasing.
In short, JT Wellbridge knew me better than I ever would have believed.
Which meant I was more screwed than I’d ever dreamed.
I ended the embrace quickly and stepped back to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for that. For being… you.”
“Baby,” he began softly.
“Not now.” I shook my head. “I can’t anymore. Let’s go to bed, okay? Nothing’s gonna change tonight.”
He nodded, and we moved together to the sink, where we brushed our teeth shoulder to shoulder in the tiny space. It wasn’t until we’d made our way up to the loft and slid into bed with my head pillowed on JT’s lightly furred chest that he spoke again.
“I had feelings for you back in high school, Firecracker. I had feelings for you three years ago. I have feelings for you now.”
The admission was sweetly painful. It was good to know that I wasn’t alone. Terrible to know that, just as I’d predicted back in Ogunquit, this disaster would end up hurting us both.
JT ran a finger over the crown tattoo on his wrist, tightening his arm around me with the movement. I’d noticed him doing that before when he was upset about something.
“Tell me about your tattoo,” I said, trying to change the subject to something less devastating, less likely to tear my heart to pieces later.
He let out a huff of warm air against my forehead. “You asking for proof of my feelings for you?”
I propped myself up on my elbow to look at him. “What does your tattoo have to do with your feelings for me?”
He looked back down at the crown, bold and masculine. Permanent.
JT’s long finger traced it on his skin. “This is you.”
I grabbed his wrist and looked more closely at the tattoo, as if the design alone held an explanation. “I don’t understand.”
He tilted my chin up until our eyes met. The edge of his lip was curved with a kind of knowing that made my heart expand. “For years, you told me you were the king of the lake.” He shrugged. “So I gave you a crown.”
My world tilted on its axis until I felt like I would faint right there in my bed. No longer was it exhaustion pulling me down but the sheer heavy knowledge that I’d found my person. The man I wanted most in the world, the one who’d carried me with him for years on his very skin.