Page 59 of Meet Me In The Dark (Skeptically In Love #3)
The ocean’s restless today with waves rolling hard and fast against the shore. I’m standing at Julian’s kitchen doors, palms pressed to the glass, trying to let the rhythm calm me. It doesn’t work. My hand throbs with every heartbeat, fingers stiff, knuckles swollen and angry red.
The front door slams.
“Celeste, what the fuck happened?”
I spin around, tears already hot on my cheeks, my uninjured hand clutching the injured one. The moment I see him, every bit of composure I’d been holding onto unravels.
“I love you,” I blurt.
His brows lift as the corner of his mouth quirks into a faint smile. “I know that already, baby.”
“I really, really love you,” I say again, voice cracking, like saying the words could make sense of everything I’m feeling.
“I know.” He takes a step closer, but I can see the concern building in his eyes. “Then why are you crying like that?”
“Because it hurts,” I hiccup out.
He freezes. “Loving me hurts?”
“No. My hand. It’s killing me.”
He’s already moving, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer and steering me into one of the kitchen chairs.
“It’s not broken,” he says, crouching in front of me. His big hands are careful as he takes mine and presses the ice against the swelling. Then, one by one, he kisses each knuckle, his lips warm against the bruised skin. “You just didn’t do it right. You need more lessons.”
“Tell that to Kingsley’s other eye.” I sniffle.
“Did he put his hands on you?”
“He didn’t get that far,” I say. My gaze meets his, steady despite the tears. “He said some…” My throat tightens. “Not very kind things about you, and I lost it.”
He leans in and presses a soft kiss to my mouth. When he pulls back, his thumbs sweep away what’s left of my tears.
“Welcome to my world,” he says quietly.
I rest my hand in his lap while he keeps the ice pack pressed against it, watching him as the pieces start to click into place.
“You bought the company?”
“Yes.” No hesitation. No apology.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It was a last-minute thing.” He adjusts the ice and keeps his eyes on my hand.
“You mean you wanted to teach him a lesson.”
“Yes. I told him to stay away from you, and he didn’t listen.” That tilt to his lips deepens. “Once his investor deal fell through, we knew nobody else would touch him. The board panicked. They sold Kingsley and the company for a fraction of what it was worth.”
“Julian, I know people who work there.”
“No one is going to lose their job,” he promises. Then he looks at me and asks, “Do you want it?”
“W-what?” I stutter.
“The company. You’re more than capable of running your own firm. Do you want it?”
My mouth falls open. “I know you told me I was spoiled, but don’t you think that’s a bit much?”
Jesus, he’s serious.
“No,” I say with a shocked laugh. “Julian, I’m happy in my career. I don’t—”
“Okay, baby.”
“Okay?”
He nods. “If you’re happy, I won’t ask again.”
Relief swarms my veins. “Thank you.”
It takes me a second to process everything. “You and Nathan are ruthless.”
That half-smile stays exactly where it is.
And God help me, I’m stunned, impressed, and slightly turned on.
I shake my head, biting back a laugh. “You really don’t care what people think of you, do you?”
“Not if they’re wrong,” he says. “And definitely not if they’ve crossed you.”
“Or you.”
He looks up then, eyes locking on mine. “Especially me.”
Something tightens in my chest. I lean forward and brush my lips against his. “I love you.”
His thumb brushes over my jaw. “I love you, too.”
“We’re a little crazy,” I tell him, looking down at the matching marks on our knuckles.
“Yeah,” he agrees, kissing my hand again .
“Julian?”
“Hm?”
I wait until he’s looking at me and say, “Ask me out to dinner.”
His smile is so beautiful. “Come to dinner with me, Celeste?”
“Yes.” I rest my forehead against his. “Why didn’t you ask sooner?”