Page 98 of Fangirl

His brows pull together. “Does it?”

“You’reyou… and I’mme.”

Jake frowns, confused. “Yeah. That’s the appeal.”

“Have youseenme? Have you read what people are saying?”

He shrugs, but there’s no humor in it. “Oh, I’ve seen you. And all I’ve wanted is to cup your cheek, hold your hand. You’re right there… close enough to touch, but somehow I feel like I’m still standing on the outside, looking in.” He takes a step forward, close enough now that I catch the faint trace of his expensive cologne, the same one from last night. “Being here, in this room with you, and not being able to touch you? It’s torture. But I know I did this. I only have myself to blame.”

He swallows hard, his gaze never leaving mine. “And as for reading what people say? God, no. What people think of me—or of you—is none of my damn business.” He exhales roughly. “I love you. I think you’re smoking hot. I want to be with you on your terms. The rest? It’s just noise, Fangirl. Jealous, bitter noise.” He pauses, lips twitching. “Okay… I did fall in love with one of my trolls, but?—”

A broken laugh bursts out of me. “You’re such an idiot.”

His eyes soften. “Yeah… but I’m your idiot. If you’ll still have me.”

I sigh, shaking my head slowly. “I don’t know,” I whisper. “I feel… betrayed. And this.” I glance around the opulence surrounding us, gesturing weakly at the sprawling suite. “This isn’t what I pictured. Not for us.”

His shoulders slump, but he looks at me like I’m the only thing holding him together. “Can I—” His voice cracks. “Can I hold your hand?”

I freeze. The simplest request, and somehow… it feels monumental.

For a heartbeat, I consider running, slamming the door, and pretending this moment never happened. But instead, I nod.

His breath stutters, like even he didn’t expect me to say yes. Slowly, he lifts his hand, palm open. No demands. No expectations. Just… waiting.

Tentative, I reach out. My fingers brush his, and the second our skin touches, it’s like the world exhales.

His hand gently closes around mine. His thumb traces the back of my hand once, a soft caress that shatters whatever fight I had left.

It’s not a kiss. Not a confession. It’s just a touch. But somehow… it’s everything.

A silent promise.

A plea for forgiveness.

A desperate hope.

And for the first time, I let him feel me break. Not with words, but with the way I squeeze his hand back, just once, like I’m saying I’m still here. For now, at least.

He lets out a deep exhale. Slowly, he lifts our joined hands and presses his lips to my palm like I’m something sacred.

“If you want me to disappear… I will.” His eyes close, his forehead brushing the back of my hand. “I’ll fix the narrative. I’ll burn the story down. Make them forget me, forget us. I’ll make sure no one ever looks at you twice.” His voice shakes. “But I’ll still love you. From across the ocean, from whatever corner of the world you send me to… I’ll love you. And I won’t move on. Not from you.” His gaze lifts, shining with something broken. “Because you’re it for me, Amelia. Whether I get to keep you or not… you’re it.”

And the worst part? Despite the lies, despite everything… I know he’s it for me too.

God, I hate him for it.

He’s the stupid, cheesy version ofthe one.

The one who made me cackle and roll my eyes behind a screen.

The one who made me feel.

And right now, standing here, staring into those stupidly familiar eyes, I know it’s him. It’salwaysbeen him.

And somehow… I have to say something. Anything.

“Penis.”