Page 110 of Catching Trouble

“I didn’t realise I was falling. Not until you’d already pulled me under.”

With a featherlight touch, he brushed my wrist with his thumb. “And now? I never want to come up for air.”

My heart stuttered.

He was so calm. So certain. So Maxime.

And me? I wasn’t calm at all. My heart thundered in my chest; my mouth grew dryer by the millisecond. My body jittered with energy, like it was on a countdown to detonation.

But no matter how his declaration floored me, I had words to say of my own.

“Stop, Maxime. Please.” I took a deep breath. “I should’ve told you that letters and I never got along. About the coffee photos and my silly outfit. About everything. I didn’t mean to lie, not exactly, but?—”

He took my hands, pressing them between his. “You don’t owe me an apology for who you are.”

I sought his eyes, hoping he’d see the regret in mine. “Even so, I thought I could manage. But I messed up. Especially with Sophie.”

He nodded. “You should’ve said something, but not because it changes how I see you. I hate you felt the need to hide it.”

I swallowed. “I’ve always found workarounds. Little ways to cope so no one would notice. They just weren’t enough this time. Not for Sophie. And now Valerie’s furious, and I’ve made things harder for you. I’m so sorry.”

“Chloe,” he said, quiet but firm. “I’m not sorry for any of it.”

My heart skipped in my chest. “You probably won’t be giving me a glowing reference.”

He smiled. “That’s what you’re worried about? If anyone asked me what you taught Sophie this summer, I wouldn’t say ‘how to write an essay.’ I’d say you taught her to have fun. To let go. To stop trying to be perfect. And just so we’re clear,” he added, voice dipping low, “I love your coffee outfit.”

I stared at him. “You do? It’s not tootacky?” Was I looking for a small victory over Valerie? You bet I was. If that waspetty of me, so be it. Thanks to her, I’d had an awful morning.

“Not tacky.” Maxime leaned in slightly. “More delicious.”

A laugh caught in my throat. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe I am, but I’m also yours,” he said. “If you’ll have me.”

Something low in my chest cracked wide open, and for a second, I didn’t trust myself to move.

Letting go of my hands, he pulled a small coil of fishing twine from his pocket. My heart skipped. Had my experiment the other night ignited something in him, too? But as I watched, he took back the sea glass. With quiet concentration, he wound the twine around it, knotting it into a simple pendant.

Again, my brain catapulted back to his room—the heat of his body, and his gentleness when he’d untied the twine and used silk instead.

“Sophie’s staying longer,” he said, slipping the glass into my palm, closing my fingers around it.

Then he stared down at my hand, his chest rising and falling fast.

“Will you stay too?”

His voice was low, almost rough. He didn’t look at me right away—but finally, when he did, the glow that’d settled in their green hazel made my heart surge.

Then he leaned closer, his fingers brushing mine. Testing. Asking.

“Don’t stay out of guilt. Or because you think something needs fixing. Just stay. If it’s what you want. IfI’mwhat you want.”

His thumb skimmed across my knuckles. Slower this time. Firmer. “I need you here, Chloe. Probably more than I should. I’m not asking for a decision now, but please. Think about it.”

My chest ached. “What about Valerie?”

He gave his head the smallest shake. “What about her?She’s Sophie’s mother. That’s all she is. I let her have too much power over me for too long. You being here? You made me realise it doesn’t need to be that way. I told her that.”