Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“What was her brother going to do?” Xander asked, poised to get some juicy stuff on Lucas.
“None of your fucking business,” Van says casually, but clearly that subject is off-limits. Then he continues as if that question had never been asked. “Maybe it was in the moments after Simone found out the truth about my father, and rather than running, she curled up in my lap and told me she had my back.”
Van’s voice softens as his gaze drops to his lap. “Yeah…something happened that night that changed things.”
When he looks back up to Xander, he shrugs. “I don’t know. Every fucking day I fell a little more, even as I was fighting it. But there was one absolute clear moment when I know…I knew I was already there.”
“And when was that?” Xander prods. I seem to have been struck dumb, as I can’t even think of a thing to add to this conversation that’s about me, yet is not including me.
“I pushed her away,” Van says quietly as he turns to look at me. He picks up one of my hands, brings it to his mouth, and kisses it. When he lays it back down on his thigh, keeping his fingers wrapped around mine, he turns back to Xander. “I walked back into our hotel room later that day and she was gone. And I knew right then, without a doubt, I’d already fallen in love with her. Maybe it was when I thought she’d been crushed by the fridge, or when she earned her brother’s ire by kissing me. I don’t know and it doesn’t matter when. I just know that I realized it for sure in that hotel room, with brutal clarity and a whole lot of fucking pain because I’d pushed her away.”
I can’t help the small gust of air that slips past my lips over the shock from what he’s saying.
Then Xander is forgotten and Van turns on the couch to face me. Still holding one hand, he brings the other to my cheek. “Simone…I didn’t know what I’d lost until I lost it. I didn’t even fucking know it was love until it was gone. But I know now. I know that you are it for me. I will never love another soul the way I love yours.”
Everything I ever wanted to hear from Van has just been laid out before me—albeit in a slightly different way than I had imagined a romantic makeup scene would unfold. But I’m cautious. I have to be to make sure he really is ready for everything I am.
“You run when you get scared, Van,” I point out to him. “You close yourself off. Your pushing me away was the most hurtful thing that has ever happened to me in my life and I’m not able to handle that. Right now…I look at you, and what I know for sure is that you were my first heartbreak.”
This doesn’t offend Van. He tilts his head and gives me an understanding smile. “Yeah? Well, you were my first everything, Simone. My first love. First devotion. My first heartbreak. My one and only relationship with a woman. You were my first confidant and companion. Simone…you were my first friend ever. My first…everything.”
And the tears come. Big, fat drops that don’t sneak up on me but fill my eyes quickly and spill over the edges.
“Oh, baby,” Van says softly as he brings his other hand to my face and wipes my tears away as they fall.
A sob pops out over the sweet sympathy and regret in his voice. He pulls me into him, pressing my face into his neck so his hand can stroke my back.
“I’m sorry, Simone,” Van murmurs as I cry against him. “Please forgive a stupid, foolish, and scared man for reacting very badly to a stressful situation. You don’t know how bad I feel about not only hurting you, but causing you to run to Quebec. I know you fucking stayed away from the rest of the games because of me, and that kept you from being with your family. I ruined that for you, and I’ll kick myself in the ass over and over again for that.”
I shake my head vigorously and pull back to look at him. “That was my choice.”
“But the option was there because of me and my douchebag ways,” he argues.
At this I snort with laughter, because this has gotten a little ridiculous, and we are still letting this all play out in front of a reporter.
“Can I kiss you?” Van asks me.
“Is that really the most important question?” I reply.
He doesn’t need to think long. With a sheepish grin, he asks, “Am I forgiven?”
“Do you really love me?” I ask him with a slightly skeptical arch to my eyebrow.
“After exposing my feelings to a reporter who will share this with the world, you still doubt me?”