Page 99 of The Girlfriend Agreement (Conwick U #1)

“Hi, Blondie,” he murmurs, smiling at me, and hearing those two words—that familiar endearment I’ve never told him I adore—is enough to break my composure.

I stumble forward a step. “Are you…okay?” I ask, hoping that easy smile isn’t disguising something much darker behind it. Something that might be breaking him. “I hadn’t heard from you, and I—” My voice catches, and I swallow to push down the lump of emotion building in my throat.

Damian’s lips hitch at the corners, his grin turning rakish. “Were you worried about me, Dornan?” His already molten eyes darken with amusement.

My face contorts into a scowl. “Of course, I was worried about you, you idiot . You sent me fifty grand out of the blue, and then vanished. I couldn’t find you. You weren’t answering my calls. Do you have any idea how?—”

Before I can say another word, his arms are encircling me, pulling me to his chest, and his lips are at my ear, whispering, “I’m sorry,” over and over, his voice so low only I can hear it.

I shiver from the touch of his warm breath on my neck as my hands instinctively hook around his waist and splay against his back, holding him to me as much as my trembling fingers will allow.

We stay that way for a moment, me clinging to him like I really am a freaking spider monkey, my face pressed into his shirt, inhaling his scent, while he smooths his hand over my hair and repeatedly apologizes.

I want to tell him he doesn’t need to be sorry—that I understand why he shut me out—but I’m just so glad he’s here and in my arms that I can’t find the words.

“It just felt like my whole world was imploding, and I was so afraid of letting you down,” he eventually says when I finally pull back to look at him, though he doesn’t meet my gaze. “Of fucking up things with you like I fucked up everything else.”

Lifting my hands to cup his face, I swipe my thumbs across the soft skin of his cheekbones.

“Hey, you haven’t fucked this up, okay?” I tilt my head toward him just a little so he’s forced to look at me.

“It’s fine,” I assure him. “ We’re fine.

” I pause, hesitating out of fear of the answer, before once again asking, “Are you ?”

Damian considers that for a moment, then lets out a shaky breath through his nose. “Things looked a bit dicey there for a minute, but it’s all good now. It’s great, actually.”

My hands falter against his cheeks. “Great?” I parrot, arching a brow.

His lips twitch into another smile. “Yeah. All thanks to you.”

I start to protest. He’s giving me way too much credit.

Sure, I said my piece to his parents, but it was his idea, his proposal that made them actually listen.

Before I can get any comprehensible words out to tell him so, he takes my hands in his, pulling them away from his face.

He then brings them down into the narrow space between us where he interlocks our fingers together.

“I wouldn’t have had the guts to do what you did,” he says in a tremulous voice, “and I…” He shakes his head with a disbelieving laugh. “Honestly, I don’t deserve you at all, but I’m not going to question it. Not if it means I get to keep you.”

My pulse skitters under my skin as hope blooms in my chest. “Does this mean?—”

Damian is already nodding before I can finish the question. “My dad wants me to start work at Hallazgo this summer.”

My heart is thundering so loudly in my ears I struggle to hear his next words. But I see them on his lips. I feel every syllable punctuated in the kisses he plants on each of my knuckles.

“What?” I’m suddenly breathless.

“He wants me to head up the program,” Damian clarifies. “He said we’ll go in front of the board as soon as the proposal is finished.”

This revelation makes me feel weightless, like the slightest breeze might knock me over or blow me away. I can barely think straight past the happiness barreling through me. “Oh, my god, Damian,” I manage when my head stops spinning. “That’s incredible.”

“There’s more,” he adds, his smile deepening as he divulges every detail of his meeting with his parents earlier today.

He tells me about his dad’s apology, about how they finally talked about Jamie and their shared grief as a family, and about his conditions for going to work for Hallazgo.

That last part in particular has my eyes stinging with tears because I know how hard it must have been for him to stand up to his dad.

To stand up not only for himself but for Jamie.

The fact he was willing to sacrifice something he wants to ensure he does right by his brother’s memory says more about his character than any initiative ever could.

“I didn’t know your brother or your abuelo, but I’m certain they’d be proud of you. I’m proud of you,” I whisper.

“Of us ,” Damian corrects me. I’m about to wave him off, to tell him my part was easy, and to not minimize just how much of the proposal was down to him—down to the fierce, compassionate heart he’s kept guarded from the world for far too long—when he says, “I didn’t do this alone, Dornan.

And because of that, I’d like to make you an offer. ”

That takes me by surprise. “An offer?”

A prickle of unease raises the hair on the back of my neck.

What kind of offer?

“So, apparently , large transfers like what we’ve been doing the last few months raise all kinds of red flags about money laundering or whatever, so we can’t do that anymore.”

My stomach plummets into my shoes. I’m not sure what shocks me more: his point-blank delivery or that I now have to face the one thing I’ve been actively not thinking about because I was afraid of this very outcome.

I’ve been purposely avoiding the money issue—what I’d do to help Mom once the current money runs out now that Damian’s parents know about our agreement.

I figured it couldn’t continue—that they wouldn’t allow him to keep sending me those payments—but I couldn’t bring myself to think about it beyond that, keeping my current focus only on my concern for Damian.

But now that I know he’s safe and okay, that anxiety comes rushing back in, like water flooding my lungs, suffocating my breaths.

The fifty grand Damian sent me a few days ago will see us through for an additional few months, sure, but with no definite end to Mom’s treatment in sight, I can’t be certain it’ll be enough to cover us long-term, especially if the worst should happen and she ends up in the hospital again—god forbid, for an extended period next time.

If that does happen, what then? How the hell am I going to come up with the money?

Are we really going to get so close to the finish line only to fail at the end of the race?

“ But ,” Damian interjects, and I’m so relieved there’s a “but” that I nearly sink to my knees. He holds me steady, one hand moving to my back again as the other reaches up to tuck a loose curl behind my ear. “How about coming to work for Hallazgo?”

This time, it’s my heart that sinks. Because while his offer is a lifeline, it’s also impossible. “I’m only a sophomore, Damian,” I remind him. “My mom would kill me if I dropped out of school.”

“You won’t have to drop out,” he assures me, but I raise a skeptical brow.

“It would be part-time until you graduate. Your hours will be flexible, and completely revolve around your studies so your scholarship and grades won’t be affected.

And your scholarship is merit-based, right?

So, there’s zero risk of any money you earn jeopardizing it. ”

I blink at him in surprise. Is he being serious?

Could I actually do that?

“Doing what?”

Damian looks as giddy as a kid on Christmas morning when he answers.

“Private consultant. Basically, you’d be our numbers guy, which, let’s be real, we both know you’d spank the shit out of that job.

And if you accept, you’d be covered by our insurance, and by extension, so would your mom.

Before you ask”—he holds up a hand when I open my mouth to interrupt—“ yes , I know insurance doesn’t usually cover non-dependents, but my dad assured me Hallazgo has this quality of life clause in their plan that covers all immediate family members, even extending to parents.

” His hands move to my arms now, rubbing up and down my sleeves as if he knows that the anxiety writhing inside me needs soothing.

“You won’t have to worry about her treatments or meds anymore, Dornan. It will all be covered. I promise.”

I promise.

The tears I’ve been holding back break through at these words, and I clamp a hand over my mouth to muffle my cries, the pent-up stress of the last few days—hell, most of the last two years—finally boiling over.

Damian wraps his arms around me once more, and pulls me close again, hugging me tightly, the pressure of his embrace a needed anchor for my overstimulated senses, grounding me.

This all feels too good to be true, and on some level, I’m afraid to believe it, but standing here in his arms, safe and secure, I know I would trust anything he tells me. And I do trust him, just as much as I trust that the feeling filling my heart to the brim is love.

I love you. I love you. I love you. That same thought loops in my head, but every time I reach for the words to say it aloud, they evade me. So, instead, I just hold him tighter, trying my best to imprint the emotions overwhelming me into his skin so he might be able to feel them.

“It’s a good salary,” Damian murmurs in my ear when my sobs finally start to ebb. “Like, really good. And you’ll have stock options. You’d have all the money for cosplay you could possibly want,” he jokes. “Hey, maybe we can use some of that cash to invest in a few things for the bedroom?—”

Choking on a wet laugh, I push away from him and playfully swat at his chest. “If you suggest Twilight role play, I’m breaking up with you.”

Damian gives his chin a thoughtful scratch. “I was going to say a sex swing, but your idea is much better.”