Page 108 of Mr. Brightside

But apparently, there were actions.

I inhale the heady scent of musk and vanilla as I breathe him in.

He’s not perfect.

But no one is.

I’m not sure about this.

But that’s okay.

I can be real—I can be uncertain—I can give my heart to this man. He might not always get it right. But what he said earlier is wrong: Idotrust him. I trust him with my heart.

It was me I didn’t trust.

I pull back as my emotions overwhelm me. We’re sitting in a storm of vulnerability. Teetering on the edge of something terrifyingly beautiful and real.

I kiss his cheeks, tasting his tears, willing him to absorb all the comfort he needs.

“I owe you an apology, too,” I confess.

He cocks his head in question.

“I started this arrangement on guard. You had the power to consume me—you always have, and I knew that.” I shake my head at the admission. I didn’t have context for our connection when we first hooked up—but looking back on it now, I know there’s a reason I broke all my rules to be with him.

“For the last six weeks, I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for you to prove me right, that I can’t trust you with my heart. I was so quick to cut you off as soon as things didn’t go exactly like I thought they should because I was scared. I’m sorry. I know it won’t always be perfect… And I don’t want you to feel like you have to be perfect, or like you’re walking on eggshells in this relationship. You’re right: we need time.”

He nods solemnly, scrubbing his tears away with the heels of his hands.

“I’ll wait,” he vows. “I’ll wait for however long you need. A few weeks, a few months; I’ll wait for years if that’s how long it’ll take for me to earn your trust and prove my love.”

I smirk at the notion of either of us possibly fighting this connection for any significant length of time. Our relationship needs time to strengthen and grow, but he’s out of his mind if he thinks I want anything to change or slow down.

Still.

I share my final ice-thin defense, just to ensure we’re on the same page.

“I doubt you’d wait that long. This was only supposed to be for two years anyway.”

He narrows his gaze, then comes at me so fast I fall backward. He pushes me into the mattress, straddles my hips, and pins me with his eyes.

When he gets in my face, I’m hypnotized by the intensity of his glare.

“It wasneveronly going to be two years. I knew it the night before our wedding when I kissed you at Clinton’s. And I think you knew it then, too.”

Tension thrums between us.

After a dozen beats of my racing heart, we both move at the same time. Jake’s lips meet mine and reaffirm every emotion we’ve just shared in a searing kiss. It’s a kiss that consumes me, all frantic passion and reckless abandon—a kiss that mends the wounds we suffered to get to this place.

He pulls away first, but he doesn’t go far. He whispers his truth against my mouth, making sure I feel the passion behind his plea. “I want more, Cory. I want it all. I want you forever. Stop fighting me, baby. I just need you to say yes.”

I already know my answer. But I need him to understand how hard it was to get here.

“I’m so fucking scared,” I mutter against his mouth.

“I know, baby. I am, too. But I won’t intentionally hurt you. Ever. If you can be patient with me, teach me how to love you, if you can just give us time—”

“Okay,” I interrupt, unable to wait one second longer to move forward with this man.