His Reverie (Reverie #1)(45)

My laughter dies when I see how serious she is, her earnest expression. “Yeah, I guess I do,” I say.

She goes completely still, her expression frozen. “Um, wow. Are you serious?”

“Hey. It is what it is right? You can’t help the way you were raised.” I’m trying to blow this off. I didn’t mean to offend her. I don’t want to ruin this night. It’s important to me. Pretty sure it’s important to her too.

If all goes as planned, she’s staying the night with me. All night long with Reverie in my arms, in my bed. I won’t push for anything more than she’s willing to give. I’ve been patient with her because I know she’s worth it. She means something to me and I thought I meant something to her too.

Fighting with her is the last thing I need.

“Right. So you’d think you wouldn’t hold that against me. I can’t help who my parents are. Just like you can’t help how you’ve been raised either,” she says pointedly. “I don’t judge you, Nick. I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t judge me.”

“I’m not judging you,” I start but she shakes her head, cutting me off.

“You totally are. And I don’t get it. I thought you knew that I accepted you. I’m putting everything at risk to be with you, Nick. Everything. Are you sure this is what you want? Because if my mom or dad caught me with you…” Her voice drifts off and she shrugs.

“You’re the one who treats me like I’m your dirty little secret,” I point out, grimacing the moment the words leave my lips. I shouldn’t have said that.

Too late.

“You do the same thing! Oh my gosh, I’m leaving.” She starts toward me, keeping a wide berth as she walks past me so I can’t even reach out and grab her.

“Where are you going?” I ask, my gaze tracking her as she makes her way toward the front door. Panic races through me and I can’t believe how fast this escalated.

“I’m leaving,” she tosses over her shoulder. She plucks her tiny purse from the back of the couch where she left it and goes to throws open the door.

“How are you getting home?” I jog toward her, grabbing the door before she can slam it in my face. “Reverie, come on.”

“I’ll find a ride. I…I’ll call my brother.” She steps outside and turns to face me, her arms wrapped around her waist, looking a little lost. “He’ll come and get me. I know it.”

She looks uncomfortable. This is definitely not her kind of neighborhood. It’s dark, especially since most of the lights that are scattered throughout the complex are either out or busted. There’s a couple of shady looking dudes bent over the front of an old car parked across the lot with the hood up as I assume they’re trying to figure out what’s wrong with it. I hear a baby crying in the distance. A door slams and I swear I recognize Krista’s voice, yelling at someone, probably her newest victim or maybe her dad. I can only hope she’s given up on me.

“He won’t come rescue you.” I reach out and take her hand, forcing her to face me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” I tell her bent head, stroking the inside of her wrist with my thumb.

“Well, you did.” She shrugs, tries to jerk her arm out of my grip but I won’t let her. “You were honest. You think I’m a spoiled brat. I can’t change how you feel.”

“Reverie.” I tug her hand and she steps toward me, her head still bent. “There’s nothing wrong with you. I like you just as you are.”

She lifts her head, her eyes wide and full of hurt. I feel her pain like a kick in the gut, especially because I’m the one who caused it. “You do?”

Her insecurities slay me every time. “Come on, get inside.” I pull her into the apartment and shut and lock the door before I press her against it. She gasps, her purse hitting the floor with a thud. I wrap my arms around her waist and hold her, reaching to tug on the ends of her hair so she tilts her head up, our gazes meeting. “You know I like you,” I say, keeping my voice low. “I like you for who you are. I’m not trying to change you.”

“I-I like you too.” She touches my cheek, drifts her fingers along the line of my jaw. “I don’t want to change you either. I think you’re…perfect.”

I am so far from perfect it’s not even funny. But if this girl thinks so I’m not complaining. “You’re the perfect one.”

“I’m a mess,” she says without hesitation.

“A perfect mess.” I smile, my fingers still tangled in her hair. “My perfect mess.”

“I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or not,” she says warily, though I can tell by the way her eyes are sparkling that she’s teasing.

“It’s definitely a compliment.” I study her, overwhelmed with the fact that Reverie wants to be with me. That she thinks I’m perfect. How did I luck out so good? What did I do to deserve her? “I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.”

She presses her lips together, her gaze unwavering for a long, almost tense moment before she finally speaks. “You’re forgiven.” She breathes deep, her chest expanding with the motion. “Was that our first fight?”

“I think it was.” I lean into her and press my lips to her forehead, letting them linger. “You forgive me?”