Diary of a Bad Boy(109)
“Can we sit down?”
“I prefer to stand, but if you want to sit, go ahead.” There’s no way I can sit on a bed with him right now, not when it feels like my heart is pounding in my throat.
Taking my invitation, he sits on my bed and stares at his hands for a few seconds before saying, “I’m . . .” He glances up and his eyes fixate on the notebook on my nightstand.
My stomach drops, and I see the moment he reads my last resolution because his brow creases as he looks at me. He points to the notebook and says, “What’s that?”
Quickly, in a few steps, I reach out and snag the notebook, close it, and toss it on the floor off to the side. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
He stands, abandoning his spot on the bed and starts to walk toward me, as my pulse picks up to a marathon pace.
“Sutton, what was that?”
“Nothing of your concern.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“Lie to you?” I say, my voice growing louder. “Like you have room to talk. You want to speak the truth, why don’t you start?”
“Fine,” he says with finality in his voice as he closes the space between us. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry that for a short period of time, I wasn’t the man you needed. I’m sorry I made you doubt the importance of what we had with each other.” He pins me against the door. “And I’m sorry it took me this long to pull my head out of my arse and realize despite everything I do wrong, you’re the one right in my life.” He cups my cheek as tears stream down my cheek, tears of true happiness. “I love you, Sutton, and I don’t want you to ever doubt that again.” These words. They’re the most beautiful words in the world, and I have so needed to hear them. He loves me. Wants me.
I press my face into his hand and close my eyes, enjoying the feel of him again, touching me, loving me.
When I open my eyes, I say, “I love you too, Roark.”
A smirk crosses his face. “So that little box you checked on your list, that was for me?”
I nod. “It was, but when I checked it, I never thought I’d be nursing a broken heart at the same time.”
“I’m sorry, lass,” he whispers, pulling me into his chest and wrapping his arms around me. One of his hands cradles the back of my head and he presses his lips into my hair. “I’m so goddamn sorry. I wasn’t in a good place. I’ve barely resurrected myself from the self-imposed state of hatred I’ve put myself through. I planned on waiting until I felt like I was whole enough for you but realized, I really wouldn’t be whole until you were back in my life again.”
“You don’t have to try to be perfect for me, Roark.” I lift my head and look him in the eyes. “I love you because you’re not perfect, because you’re rough around the edges. I love you because you’re the one person who makes me feel at home. When I’m in your arms, wrapped in your warmth, everything feels right, and I never want to lose that again.”
“You won’t.” He kisses my head again, pulling me into another hug. “You’re not going to lose me again, Sutton Grace.”
I smile into his chest. “Is that a promise?”
“Do I need to use asterisks to emphasize it?”
“I think so.” I chuckle, moving my hand up his chest to the buttons of his shirt. “Now tell me what happened to your handsome face.”
“It’s not important, because all that matters right now is that we’re both fully clothed.” He slips his hand down the front of my shirt, takes the hem, and lifts it up and over my head. When he looks down, his brow furrows. “A bra, since when did you start wearing a bra with your pajamas?”
Chuckling, I say, “Since I walk outside in them.”
“Kind of lost all will to be classy, huh?”
I stroke my fingers over his rough stubble. “When you take away the one thing I love most, yeah, I might lose a bit of class for a while.”
He brings me to the bed where he lays me down gently. He shuts my computer and puts it on the nightstand then loses his jacket and shirt. I run my fingers over his strong pecs, and the short chest hair he’s let grow out. Sexy.
“Don’t worry, lass, I’m not going anywhere. You can stop wearing pajamas in general now.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Do you know what’s ridiculous? That you’re not naked yet.”
“Then do something about it,” I say, running my finger over his nipple.
His eyes narrow and before I know it, his mouth is at my neck and his hands are gliding all over my body, stripping me down to nothing. As he presses sweet kisses up and down my neck, I feel grateful that even in the hard times, love has a way of healing open wounds. Otherwise, I wouldn’t know what true love is, the beautiful and the ugly.
“Looking good, hot stuff,” I whistle while leaning back on the blanket I spread on the lawn of Central Park.
“Don’t miss that piece over there,” Maddie heckles as we both watch Roark finish up the last of his mandated community service while checking off another resolution on my list: spend the entire day in Central Park. I just so happened to schedule it when Roark had to do trash duty in the park. Worked out perfectly, because once he finishes up these two hours, he’ll be joining us.