Page 150 of The Play Maker

She blows out a shaky breath. “I’m scared that if I wait—if I’m sober—I’ll talk myself out of it. I’ll get too in my head. I’ll think about every bad thing I’ve ever believed about myself. I’m scared you’ll see me and change your mind. So it has to be now, while I still have some courage left.”

My stomach drops.

She looks down, shaking her head. “Every other girl you’ve been with… they don’t look like me. They don’t have stretch marks. Or stomachs that fold when they sit down. Or thighs with cellulite that—” she swallows “—touch. And I keep thinking… what if I get naked and you realize I’m not what you want?”

Fuck.

Itkillsme hearing her say that.

Without thinking, I reach for her. My hands cradle her face, brushing my thumbs along her damp cheeks. Her skin’s warm, flushed, and I can feel her shaky breath hit my chin.

“Maisie,” I whisper. “Look at me.”

Her lashes flutter, hesitant, and then she does.

Big, blue, break-my-heart eyes. Shining with tears she’s trying to blink away.

And God, I love her.

I’ve never said it out loud, but I fucking know it without an ounce of hesitation. It’s been there for a while now. Curling deeper every time she smiles at me like I’m something good.

“Every single woman in the world could be naked in my bed right now,” I say, keeping my eyes on hers. “And the only one I’d want is you.”

Her bottom lip wobbles, and she bites down on it like she’s trying to hold something in. She opens her mouth, then shuts it again.

“I’m just… I haven’t done anything before, Austin,” she says. “Every first I’m doing with you… you’ve already done with someone else.” She looks away for a second, then back at me. “I know that’s not your fault, but I just… I want you to wantmethe way you wantedher.”

I stare at her, stunned for a second.

Her?

Whather?

Because I can’t even think of anyone else when she’s in the room. I haven’t thought about anyone but her since the moment I met her—before that, even. It’s always been her for me. It willalwaysbe her.

My hands slide down to her waist, pulling her into me. “Maisie.” I shake my head. “There is no her. There’s no girl before you that meant a damn thing compared to this.”

I wait for her to say something, but she doesn’t. She just looks at me like she’s trying to believe it.

“I want you in ways I’ve never wanted anyone. And it’s not just because you’re beautiful—though you are, insanely so—it’sbecause you’re you. It’s your laugh. Your smartass comments. Your brain. Your heart. It’s the way you talk to me. The way you see me, even when I’m being a complete idiot.”

Her breath stutters. “Austin…”

“I mean it.” I brush my thumb across her cheek. “I’ve never wanted someone like this before,” I whisper. “You’re it, Maisie. You’re the only one I want. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, baby.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do.” There’s no doubt in my voice—none. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

“Surer,” she corrects softly with a sniffle.

I chuckle and lean in, press a kiss to her forehead. Then one to the tip of her nose. And finally, her lips. She sighs against me, and I kiss her like she’s the only thing that matters.

Because she is.

Eventually, I help her out of her clothes, swap her top for my hoodie—herhoodie now, really—and tug the blanket up over us. I grab the trash can just in case. She’s not blackout, but she’s definitely never been this drunk before. And it kills me that this was the only way she felt brave enough to be with me.

She curls into me like she’s always belonged there. Warm. Small. Soft in all the ways that make me want to protect her with everything I’ve got.