Page 156 of Bitter When He Begs

“I still hate you,” he snaps, another tear slipping out. “I hate how you make me feel safe. I hate how you know when I’m spiraling even before I do. I hate that you’ve seen every fucking flaw I have and still think I’m worth loving.”

I stare at him, breath caught in my chest, completely wrecked by every word spilling out of him.

“And I hate—” he stops, his bottom lip trembling, “Ihatethat you’re the most arrogant, egotistical, beautiful human alive, and somehow—somehow—you stole my fucking heart without my permission.”

His voice shakes on that last word, and I feel it now—the way his chest is rising and falling too fast, the way his grip on me tightens, the way his body is wired like he doesn’t know what to do with all of this emotion slamming into him.

I cup his jaw and slide my fingers to the back of his head, threading into his hair. “I didn’t mean to steal it, baby,” I murmur, my voice softer now. “Didn’t even realize I had it until I couldn’t let it go.”

His throat bobs and his fingers loosen, smoothing over the fabric of my shirt instead of clenching it. “You really love me?”

I lean up, pressing a slow, deep kiss against his lips, making him feel it, making him understand. “Yeah, Sunshine,” I whisper against his mouth. “I really fucking do.”

For a second, Sage just stares at me, his big brown eyes wide, his lips parted, his breath coming a little too fast like his brain is short-circuiting. Then, all at once, he sags against me, his forehead dropping to my shoulder.

I feel his shaky breath against my neck, and fuck—this little shit has me so far gone I don’t even know what to do with myself.

“You okay?” I ask, my fingers threading through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp the way I know he likes.

“No,” he mutters against my shoulder, voice muffled and pissed off. “You’ve completely fucked me up.”

I grin, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “That’s a weird way to say ‘I love you’ back.”

Sage lifts his head, and yeah—he’s still glaring, but his lips twitch like he’s trying not to smile. “I refuse to be one of those people who say it all soft and romantic and swoony,” he grumbles. “It’s disgusting and overrated, and I hate you for making me feel like this.”

I smirk, my hands slipping under his shirt to grip his waist, thumbs stroking his skin. “So what, you’re just never gonna say it?”

He scowls. “I’ll say it when you least expect it, when it’ll make you weak—”

“Baby, I’m already weak for you.”

His mouth snaps shut, and I see the moment the words register, the way his eyes flicker, the way his breath catches in his throat.

Yeah. Got him.

“I—fucking—ugh,” he groans, tilting his head back, looking completely exasperated. “Why the fuck did you have to be this person? Why couldn’t you have just stayed the asshole who tormented me instead of—of—this?”

“You like this better,” I tease, dragging my hands up his sides, watching the way he shivers.

“Irrelevant,” he mutters, still looking mad, and fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone this much in my entire life.

I reach up, hooking my finger under his chin, forcing him to meet my gaze. “Say it, baby,” I murmur. “Say it once, just for me.”

His jaw clenches and he makes me wait…Then, finally—

“I love you, you ridiculous, gorgeous, emotionally illiterate man,” he finally says, shoving his palms into his eyes like he’s embarrassed to be saying it. “I love you so fucking much it makes me stupid. I love you, even though you hog the blankets and eat four burgers at a time and wear socks with sandals when you think no one’s watching—”

“That was once—”

“—and you smile at me like you know I’d forgive you for anything. And I’m mad about it. I’m mad that you got past every wall I built without even trying. I’m mad that I didn’t see you coming.”

“Sunshine,” I whisper, reaching for his hands, and tugging them gently away from his face. “You don’t have to be mad.”

He sniffs, looking up at me through red-rimmed eyes. “I’m always mad.”

“Yeah, but now you’re mad and in love.”

He glares again, even as another tear rolls down. “Don’t make that a thing.”