Page 50 of Take the Blame (Seaside Mergers #3)
I didn't know what to say. Paralyzed by the adamance in his voice, the only thing I could think of was, “I’m sorry.”
Did that even encompass it, though? Because the look on his face was making me feel sick in an entirely different way than a stupid respiratory infection. An apology couldn’t possibly be enough to atone for putting it there. If time travel were an option, I’d already be erasing my mistakes.
“It’s okay,” he said. And every bit of it sounded like the truth. Even as he confessed all this to me, clearly upset, he still genuinely said it was okay.
“Is that what you wanted to tell me?” I asked. I honestly hoped so. I don’t think I could take much more.
“More or less,” he sighed. “Look, I know this thing between us is undefined and… different. And I’m not blaming you for anything, I’m just trying to navigate it, same as you.”
“I’m sorry, Harper.”
“It’s okay, just—” he stopped. Restarted.
“I know I asked for it and we didn’t go into this with any boundaries or anything, but I’m learning them as I go, and I just…
I can take the blame when you’re venting or needing to get your frustration out.
I offered, because I’m cool with that, be as rough as you want.
But when it comes to my heart, baby, I can’t really take rough. ”
It’s then that it hit me–what the look in his eye was, and it bolted me straight up in my seat, my voice wobbling as I asked, “I hurt you, Harper?”
He winced. But he picked up my hand, played with my fingers, his voice cracking a little as he said, “I care about you, Alta. And I like you. With clothes and without. Kissing me or not. I like you even when you don’t like me.
So please, if you’re wondering how I’m feeling about you just ask me from now on.
I’ll be honest with you then, just like I’m being honest with you now.
But please don’t shoot random shots out seeing if you’ll get a hit. Cause when it hits, it hurts.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Please stop apologizing now. It’s okay. I mean it,” he said. “And I’m sorry for being so harsh with you before. I was just so worried about you, but I shouldn’t have made you anxious like that.”
“No Harper,” I said. Lifting to my knees and scooting forward, I took both his hands in mine. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know. No—that’s stupid. I didn’t think . I didn’t think past myself and what I was feeling and that was really crappy of me. I'm sorry.”
“Do you believe me when I say that it’s okay ?” he asked.
“I do,” I nodded. “Do you believe me when I say that I’m really, really sorry.”
“I do,” he said. “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. I’m just asking you not to hurt mine.”
I nodded.
How selfish could I be? How self-centered?
How could I keep looking at this man, time and time again and not realize that I’d hurt him?
And how unworthy was I to have him sitting right here with me, forgiving me for it?
Instead of throwing a fit, or walking out, or punishing me for bringing him pain, he’d waited until I was well enough to sit me down and talk about it.
To explain himself and kindly ask that I don’t do that to him again.
He was too good. So good. Without a shadow of a doubt, he was the good one, and I was the lucky one.
He’d always been the good one. Patient, playful, perfect.
It had always been me who couldn’t handle the reality of it.
Me, who’d been childish and spiteful around him.
Me, who’d been in denial about this pull of something huge between us.
And he was still willing to sit here with me.
Scooting myself forward I climbed over to him until I was able to wrap my arms around his neck and shoulders. Instantly, his arms circled my back and carried me over to his lap. Bringing me close to his body and cradling me there in the safe embrace.
He’d always made me feel this way. Safe. Like the real me would be fine around him—the good and the bad. And what had I done for him in return?
My breath hitched.
I was trying to hold it back, trying to be strong because this was his time, not mine. But the realization of how mean I truly was, how wrong, and the shame of making him feel that way racked my body. My already weak body that Harper had showed up to care for.
A small sob escaped me and I immediately tried to bury it in his neck. He heard, and his arms tightened around me and scooped me up the rest of the way to him.
“Oh, honey,” he murmured close to my hair. “Please don’t cry. Not when you’re sick. Not ever for me, okay?”
“I’m sorry,” I stumbled out again. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way, Harper. I care about you too. I care how you’re feeling. How I make you feel. Not just your body, but you. And I’m so sorry you’re the one who always sees this shitty side of me. It isn’t fair.”
“No,” he said. “No side of you is shitty, boss. We’re all human.
We take missteps and we get better from them.
We meet people and we learn them–get to know them, and if it matters enough, we grow with them.
It’s not always linear. It’s not always easy.
But sometimes the hard parts are worth it.
For the right people, they’re always worth it. ”
“I’m not worth you getting hurt over,” I said, voice small.
His arms tightened. “You’re worth a lot more than you think you are, Alta. Worth the world. I'm willing to do a lot to show you that.”
My entire body shook. I could just be exhausted, or it could be this electrifying feeling bursting all over my skin.
Either way, I just sunk deeper into his embrace and cocooned myself right there.
I was a broken record. The only thing my body and mind knew how to do was regret and repent.
Because the last person I wanted to hurt was the only person who’d ever truly seen me, all of me, and accepted every inch.
Whimpering, I apologized yet again and the big chest beneath me sighed. Pulling back, he loosened my cobra grip on him enough so that he could see my face. Looking at me, his expression went tender. “Can I do something, Boss?”
I nodded. I’d give him anything at this point.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked. “Whenever I want, I mean—Not just for our deal?”
With no doubt in my mind, my response was to lean forward. Because my lips had never fit more perfectly on anything than on top of his.