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.His shoulders are violently convulsing under his suit jacket, and just as I begin to scramble off the couch, he launches his fist into the rock face.He doesn’t say a word, just returns to trying to slow his breathing.Whatever the outburst was, though, it’s not enough, because he swiftly sends everything on the mantel crashing down onto the floor.It seems to have only enraged him further, because within seconds, he’s flipped over a small glass table, it too shattering onto the hardwood.“Brax…” I whisper softly, climbing off the couch as he collapses onto the floor, his head between his knees.He doesn’t answer me, so I take the opportunity to approach him.Cautious and slow, I kneel in front of his heaving body and cradle his head in my hands.I don’t need to say anything.He soaks up my touch like he’s been starved of it.When he looks up, my heart breaks in two.The wild in his eyes is back and they are bloodshot.“I will kill them all,” he promises before pulling me to him.And I believe it.It is the sound of the timer on the oven that finally pulls us off the floor.He won’t allow me to bandage his hand, instead he rinses it under the sink and seals the cuts with black tape.We eat quietly at the kitchen table, neither of us feeling the need to speak.He spends close to the next hour beating himself up.It’s obvious and painful to watch.“Why don’t you go shower?” I suggest.“I’ll clean up from dinner and then we can watch a movie or something?”He hesitates but eventually gives in.Then he kisses me lightly on the lips before ascending to his bedroom.Once I’ve located a broom, I spend the next half hour cleaning up the wreckage from my honesty in the living room.The small table was unsalvageable.Same with most of the items from the mantel.I keep what I can and throw out the rest.Some part of me feels like it will be easier for him to move on if he doesn’t have to look at what happened all night.After grabbing my overnight bag from the mudroom, I slip into yoga pants and Brax’s university hoodie from this morning and then settle onto the couch.“I like seeing you in my clothes.”Looking over the back of the couch, I see him leaning against the doorframe.He’s shirtless, his hair is wet and he’s wearing nothing but a pair of pajama pants.The cover-up washed off in the shower, making his black eye visible again.I dramatically pat the spot beside me on the sofa.For some reason, it feels important that he comes to me and not vice versa.I know I didn’t hurt him intentionally, but the gut-wrenching feeling inside me doesn’t seem to care.Upon sitting down beside me, he pulls my legs over his lap and rests his head on the back of the couch.I eye him for a while, waiting to see if he’ll say anything else.When he doesn’t, I turn back to the TV show.We watch in comfortable silence for a while until he finally speaks.“I’m sorry,” he whispers.Searching his face with my eyes, I sigh.“I don’t need you to be sorry.You didn’t do anything wrong.”“I’m not normal,” he cracks out, dropping his head.I pull my legs off his lap and sit up on my knees beside him, grabbing his chin with my hand.“This”—I wave my hand around in the space between us—“doesn’t need to happen.The pity party, the blame game, whatever the hell this is—stop it.You knew what would happen when I told you but made me tell you anyway so you could understand me.You knew my confession would rip you apart from the inside out, but you did it anyway.For me.So I don’t care that you broke some glass.I don’t care that you likely broke one of your knuckles on the goddamn fireplace, Braxton.I know you’re terrified of the demons inside you, but I’m not.I love all the dark, ugly corners of your soul that you’re afraid to let anyone see.I love them because they are a part of you, and without them, I’d have never met you.Don’t you see? All the things that would normally drive people apart are what thrust us together.So let it go.I have.And let’s fucking cuddle, okay?”“Okay,” he says, fighting back a smile.Pursing my lips, I drop my hand from his face.“What’s with the grin?”“You said you loved me.”Holy fucking shit.I did.I said I loved him out loud.I start to back away from him on the couch when he shakes his head, grabbing me by the wrist.“Uhm… I…”“Too late now, babe.No take-backs.” He grins, pulling me flush against his chest as he lays us down on the sofa.“I’ll take your ‘I love you’ and raise you…” he trails off.I eye him suspiciously, embarrassment covering my cheeks in a pink hue.“Well, go on.Raise me what?” I sass.He chuckles.“Who’s the bossy asshole now?”I gape at him.“You did not just call me an asshole after I said I loved you.”The humour vacates his face entirely.“Say it again.”“What? That you’re an asshole?” I quip.“Tell me you love me.”Well, fuck.I guess pretending I didn’t say it isn’t going to work.“Braxton Bennett, I love you more than the first sip of coffee in the morning or the smell after it rains.I love you more than I love the smell of puppies.I love you more than I’ve loved anything in my entire life.I am yours.”I’ve barely finished when his lips devour mine.It’s the kind of kiss he gives me sometimes when I feel like he’s actually kissing my soul.Pulling away, he rests his forehead on mine.“I love you too, Beth.But more than that, I need you.I crave you.I think about you constantly.You’re in every breath I take, every second that passes, and every beat of my heart.Loving you until the day I die will forever be my greatest accomplishment.”The tears started falling sometime during his speech, and now, they won’t stop.Smiling at him, I laugh through my crying.“We are entirely too absurd.”“Why is that, babe?”I shake my head.Of course he wouldn’t think it’s odd.“We met a month ago, but until this week, I’d never spoken to you.We barely know each other.”“Anyone who thinks time plays a part in falling in love with someone is an idiot.You either love someone or you don’t.You know it right away, just like you know when you’re tired or hungry.It’s instinct.It’s immediate, and it’s real.That’s what I feel for you—basic, pure love—and I knew it the moment I saw you.I love you.”Rationality has officially fled the building, and it’s been replaced solely by the needs of the heart.I am in love.We are in love.This is it.We lie like that for some time—how long exactly, I’m not sure.Sometime during Late Night with Jimmy Fallon, I fall asleep curled on top of his bare chest.Which, I might add, is surprisingly comfortable considering it is, in fact, hard as a rock.When I wake a few hours later, I feel cold.Opening my eyes, I realize I’m now on the couch alone, covered in a throw blanket, and Brax is nowhere in sight.Standing up, I listen for him but hear nothing except the quiet hum of the TV.I vaguely notice that it’s a CSI rerun as I wrap the blanket around my shoulders, walking out of the living room.The house is huge.Not in an I’m-being-dramatic or trying-to-blow-smoke-up-his-ass-with-a-compliment huge.I’m talking actually bloody massive.I’ve also only been in the garage, kitchen, mudroom, living room, and master suite.And Brax led me to them all.I have no idea where to start looking for him, so I decide on process of elimination.I doubt he’d go upstairs without me, so he’s likely downstairs somewhere.Padding softly across the hall, I step down two stairs into what looks like a large sitting room.It’s one of those perfect rooms [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]