Page 98 of Close Match

“And you’re a part of that family.”

I shake my head. “Am I?” Before he can answer, I rush on. “Ever since the day at the hospital, you don’t hold me. You tolerate me. I don’t belong anywhere. Not anymore.”

“I think the stress of this is getting to you,” he tells me bluntly. My eyes widen.

“Me? I’m not the one who has to drink to force himself to crawl into bed with a woman every night. Just forget it. I’m moving back into my old room tonight,” I declare, ripping myself out of his arms to turn away. If I hadn’t turned at just the wrong moment, I might have seen the shock on his face.

“Linnie, sweetheart, no. That’s not it.” I feel his fingers graze my bare arms.

My heart wrenches. I’m forcing myself to wake up from all of the illusions of my life and face reality. Nothing lasts forever—not the spotlight, not family, and certainly not love. In my case, it lasted the duration of time for a man to shout it out right before he passed out next to me.

“Yes, I’m having a drink, but you’re not the reason why.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I ache in all the wrong places having this conversation. I want to be left to the one thing that’s not let me down so far.

Pain.

“It does.” He grabs me and spins me around.

“I understand, Monty. I only wish you’d talked with me about it.”Before you’d broken my heart.But I don’t add on the last part. “Let me finish working out and I’ll…”

He spins me into his arms. “How am I supposed to pick up the pieces of you when I’m falling apart at your feet? How can I hold you when I’m doing something I know you disapprove of? You walked away the last time and cried because of it. How can I tell you I’ve fallen so deeply in love with you when I’m not strong enough to promise to be what you need?”

My heart thumps hard beats inside my chest. “I didn’t walk away. I’ve been here the whole time,” I say quietly.

His fingers tighten even as his face contorts in pain. “I hope you mean that, because I’m not capable of letting go. Not anymore.” Monty lowers his head down to mine, so close our eyes are centimeters away from each other.

We don’t kiss. We don’t move. What we’ve just shared is too overwhelming to shatter the moment by moving a fraction of an inch to capture each other’s lips. Instead, it’s the delicate flutter of our lashes as they tangle that exchange the power of our declaration.

We’re in this together.

We’ll figure out the miscommunication later, but right now, he’s not letting me go. He’s holding on.

Even as the air passes my lips and reaches his, I feel my soul sigh in the same way.

An oasis found in the storm that we both know is coming.

* * *

That nightas we get ready for bed, I’m washing my face when Monty comes in behind me in the bathroom. I smile when he reaches for his toothbrush. “I just had a drink, baby. I don’t want that on my breath when I kiss you in a few.”

I shock the hell out of him when I say, “I didn’t mind it that day, Monty. Why wouldn’t you kiss me?”

His toothbrush falls out of his hands and into the basin. “Then why did you walk away?” His confusion and self-loathing are evident. I feel terrible I’ve played a part in this without him knowing.

“Because I didn’t want to add to your burden.” Placing my hand on his chest, my fingernails rake through it before settling over his heart. “You already shoulder the burden for so much, too much. I needed to have a good cry. It was too much that day. Dad, telling Bristol I couldn’t be there for her…” I swallow hard.

“Prove it,” he challenges.

“How?”

“Kiss me,” he demands. And I understand what he’s saying. He’s had a drink. He was willing to scrape off the taste so I didn’t need to absorb it. But if it wasn’t him who hurt me, then I should have no problem laying my lips on his.

Stepping even closer, I slide my hands into his thick hair and tug his head down a little. He obliges by ducking down a little. I seal our lips together with a tenderness I think we both need. His arms wrap around me. I nibble at his full lower lip before taking a nip. He parts his lips in surprise—my tongue darts inside for a long stroke, a taste. I shudder in joy and longing.

Monty groans before taking over the kiss, backing me up against the vanity. His head slants, and he tangles his fingers in my hair to hold my head steady as he plunders my mouth.

Long moments pass where there’s only the sounds of our harsh breath and sighs. When he pulls back, he whispers, “Sometimes I forget until I look at you, there are miracles in this world. Don’t ever let me forget that.” Pulling away, he leaves me standing there stunned as he quickly brushes his teeth.