“I’m not mad at you, Kira,” he says, a raw edge to his voice. “I’m in love with you.”
A startled breath chuffs past my lips. I can’t pretend the notion hasn’t crossed my mind, crossed my heart, but we haven’t said it. I thought it was too soon, thought we should be more sure, but there is absolute certainty in the eyes that burn into mine, and that look finds an echo inside of me. An answer to his call.
“I love you,” he says again. “And I don’t want to hide that from the world by not walking a stupid red carpet that I usually don’t even care about but want to walk with you.”
“Naz—”
“And I for damn sure don’t want to hide it from your family.” He drops his nose to the juncture of my neck and shoulder. “But I will. If you aren’t ready to tell Cliff—if you’re scared it will set him back—that matters more to me than my desire to tell the world how I feel.”
He scoffs, shaking his head. “Me, who has always guarded my private life wanting to tell the world anything is crazy, but this…” He places a large, warm hand over my heart. “This, I want the world to know.”
“We kind of scooted right past the part where you said you love me,” I whisper, looking up at him, emotion burning my throat and tears welling in my eyes. “That seems important.”
“More important than keeping it from Cliff? From your family and the rest of the world?”
I ease up on my toes and spread my hand over his neck, drawing him down until only a breath separates our lips.
“Considering I love you, too,” I say, not heeding the tears slipping over my cheeks, “it seems more important than everything.”
He takes my lips or I take his—I don’t know which, but we take each other, and there’s somehow no end or beginning to it. This didn’t start twelve years ago on the rooftop of my house under a quarter moon. It didn’t begin under the Mediterranean sun or idling on the sea. It feels like it started when I was born, and everything in my life brought me to him and him to me—like all the times we were apart were held breaths, and here together, in each other’s arms, we can finally breathe.
He pulls away, one hand under my dress, gripping my thigh, the other palming my ass.
“Shit.” He lowers his head again, kisses me again like it’s a compulsion, an involuntary action he can’t or won’t even try to stop. “If we don’t go now, we won’t go, and I won’t care.”
“No.” I give him a gentle shove. “We’re going. We have a red carpet to walk.”
He does a double take, a smile spreading across his face. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’ll call Cliff tomorrow. I don’t know how he’ll respond, but we’ll deal with it as best we can. Besides.” I execute a slow turn, making sure he sees every curve from every angle. “I’m always making sure everyone else is ready for their big moments.” I smile, grabbing his fingers with one hand and the doorknob with the other. “It’s my turn now, and I’m ready for my close-up.”