Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 80074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
I jerked back, blown away by all her confessions.
“I know I’ve been hard on you, and I hate myself for it. Though it’s more about me hatin’ myself than you, Jackson. I made a baby in a night I don’t even remember with a man who should have been you. I hate that Bailey isn’t biologically yours, and I resent you for it. It’s such irrational thinkin’, I know that. It was my fuck up, yet I still blame you for leadin’ me there to begin with. I don’t know how to forgive you, love you ’cuz I don’t even know how to forgive and love myself. I’m my own worst enemy, and all I want is to be set free. Seein’ Cash last month fucked with me and just reminded me of everythin’ that’s wrong in my life. In our lives.”
I stepped toward her, stopping when we were inches apart. “Baby girl, I didn’t marry you just ’cuz you got pregnant. I didn’t marry you just ’cuz I wanted Bailey. I didn’t marry you for any other reason,” I rasped, needing to finally say it, “than I fuckin’ LOVE YOU!”
She loudly gasped. The sound echoed off the walls and into my heart.
“I love you so fuckin’ much it kills me, destroys me, makes me see nothing but red that you think otherwise. My biggest fear was saying it to you ’cuz I don’t know what the future holds for me. For us. I thought by not saying it, it might make it easier if I forgot you. That may not make sense to you, but I saw my father watch my mother take her last breath in his arms. He died with her until Camila came into our lives, and I didn’t want you to die with me too.”
“Jackson...”
“To hell with that, I wasn’t going to let fear stand in the way any longer. I’ve wanted to tell you since the Super Bowl, but we kept getting interrupted by bullshit. I was ready to say it to you in a room full of people, so the whole world would know how much I want you, need you, fuckin’ can’t live without you.”
Tears fell from her eyes in perfectly straight symmetrical lines down her gorgeous face.
“I’ve loved you since before we made love for the first time. Fuckin’ a, Gremlin... I think I was born lovin’ you. When we were kids, all I ever wanted was to make you cry. I’d wish for it every birthday. I’d asked Santa every year to make it happen. Every shooting star I saw from the roof of my house was for you to just shed one goddamn tear ’cuz of me. I hated you then, but, Harley Jameson, you’re about to find out how much ... I love you now.”
Zero fucks.
I gripped onto the back of her neck and slammed my lips onto hers.
Kissing her.
Loving her.
Fuckin’ devouring her.
She matched every beat, every moment, every feeling and emotion times ten. With my hands framing her face, I vowed, “I’m sorry I ever made you cry. I’m sorry for Shiloh. I’m sorry for Cash. I’m sorry for all the pain I caused you. I’m sorry for ever making you feel like I didn’t belong to you. I’m sorry for all the lies.” Leaning my forehead on hers. “Most of all, I’m so fuckin’ sorry it took me this long to tell you how much I love you. With my heart, with my soul, with every inch of my body. My heart beats only for you.”
Her chest rose and descended with each deep breath she took.
“I want to make love to you. Claim you. Slow, steady, all night long.” Staring deep into her eyes, I saw the same intense gaze staring back at me. I kissed her again, slower, more delicate, softer, less frantic and desperate, with the same intensity and passion.
“But... I’m sorry, I can’t. Not until you come to me, begging for it. Telling me how much you love me too. We can’t go on like this, you’re right. And if letting you go is what you need, what you want, then for once in my life I can give that to you. Even though it’s the last thing I want to do.”
I let her go and left.
Leaving my life in her hands.
<>Harley<>
Now: Twenty-four years old
I can’t believe he said he loved me.
After all these years, all this time, he finally said the three words I’d been wanting to hear since the first time I told him he did at the MC clubhouse.
There I was, standing in the club lounge of the Bank of America Stadium, watching Jackson do what he did best.
Play football.
It was the first practice game of the season. He looked like a god out on that field. Sweat dripping off every inch of his muscular toned body.