A record screeches somewhere in my mind. What? Me break up with him?
Before I can get a word in, his eyes plead. “Baby, please, forgive me. I swear to you I didn’t mean what I said. I said those things, because I was hurting. You were never a mistake. You’re the best thing to come into my life since Ceecee. And I know you’re not her mom, but,” he speaks so softly, I wonder if I imagine it, “you’re the closest thing she’s got right now. She loves you.” He hesitates before admitting on a small voice, “I love you.”
‘Love isn’t proud.’
My insides stir. Placing my hands over his, I lean my forehead onto his chin and whisper, “Say it again.”
He kisses my forehead and mutters against it, “I’m so sorry, baby.”
I look up at him, eyes glittering. “Not that. The part where you said you love me.”
His smile is small. “I love you.”
“Really?”
His dimple cuts into his cheek as he leans down to place a wet kiss on my mouth. “Been fighting it. Didn’t want it. But I’ll be damned if you try to take it away from me. We’ve got somethin’ good now, but we can have something incredible.” His lips cover mine. “I love you, Helena. Really, really.”
Suddenly, his body stills and he pulls away looking unsure of himself. “You still love me, cupcake?”
I roll my eyes, reach up, and punch him in the arm hard. He winces and I scoff. “Yes, I still love you. Asshole.”
He nods solemnly, but smiles, rubbing his arm. “Okay. I deserved that.” We stand there, smiling up at each other. “So, now what?”
I shrug. “Now, nothing.”
He raises a brow. “We have our first major fight, pronounce our love to each other,” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, “and then we go home and do nothing about it?” He shakes his head. “Something seems off about that.”
I blink up at him. “I hear make-up sex is all the rage.”
He looks over my shoulder, staring at the wall in thought, rubbing at his chin. “Make-up sex, you say?” After a moment, he straightens and stalks forward. “I’m willing to give it a shot.”
Turns out, make-up sex is indeed all it’s said to be. In fact, as we lie on my bed naked, panting, and sweaty, I know I’ll be willing to cause a few arguments in our relationship just to apologize.
With my mouth.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Helena
If you had asked me three months ago if I wanted a relationship, I would’ve laughed boisterously and patted your sweet little head. But now I see it’s not the relationship to fear. It’s being in a relationship with the wrong person. As I sit on Max’s lap, his arm resting across my thighs as he presses kisses to my shoulder, I realize a relationship with the right person is not scary. It’s amazing.
Being yourself and having someone love you for it is amazing. If I knew it would be this way, I would never have fought it. I would’ve embraced it. But that’s the catch, isn’t it? You need to risk to gain. I took my leap of faith and it paid off. I got the best reward I could ask for. I got Max, and in turn, I got Ceecee too.
Turning on his lap, I lower my face to his, pressing light kisses on his mouth. As always, butterflies flutter in my belly.
Will it always be like this? Secretly, I hope so.
His eyes flicker down to my neck. Reaching up, he takes the necklace in his hands, eyeing the ring dangling from it. “You don’t always have to wear it, baby.”
Max’s ring. As if I’d ever take it off. It wasn’t a proposal, exactly. More of a promise of what’s to come. “I’m never taking it off,” I vow openly.
After Max told me he loved me that night, four weeks ago, we’ve been inseparable. The very next day, he gave me his ring. With a flush, he muttered, “You don’t have to wear it or anything. I just want you to have it.”
It was adorable. And thoughtful. And I loved him even more for the sentiment. Of course, being that Max has giant fingers, it was never an option to wear it the traditional way. I found a white gold chain, put the platinum ring on it, and I haven’t taken it off. Not once. When Ceecee spotted the ring, she looked a little too happy about it. Eyes darting from me to Max, she uttered, “Are you going to marry my dad?”
Seriously. She did that on purpose, the little sneak. Before I had a chance to answer, Max wrapped an arm around me. “When I ask, she’ll say yes.”
The confidence of the statement oozed off of him, and I wanted to hit him. But it hit me. What he had just said.