Bring Down the Stars (Beautiful Hearts Duet #1)(76)

“Welcome home, soldier,” I said, curling into his side.

“Holy shit, that felt good.”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. I missed this. Ten weeks is a long time.”

“Was it hell?”

“Nah.” Connor chuckled. “Well, that damn four-thirty reveille every day was hell. Talk about torture.”

I smiled faintly. Words from one of his letters—that I had memorized—came back to me.

There is nothing of you here…and that is harder to endure than any physical pain.

I let them go. He’d had to endure physical and mental exertion I couldn’t fathom. Not every part of his ordeal had to do with me, and yet the longing for him to express himself as he had in those letters was there, on the surface of my heart.

“I hate that you have to leave again,” I said.

“Me too. But in a weird way, I’m looking forward to it. To doing something meaningful, I mean.”

“You are. You will.”

I felt him nod. “For the first time, my parents are treating me with respect. My father…the way he looks at me. It’s different now. He hugged me. And it’s partially thanks to you. A lot thanks to you.”

“No, it’s all you,” I said. “You did this.”

“I’ve never been with a girl like you.” He cupped my cheek with his hand. “I’ve never felt this way about a girl either. I never thought something …real could be mine.”

I pressed my lips, then my cheek into his palm. “God, I love hearing this with your own voice.”

I swallowed hard and drew in a slow breath, gathering courage, feeling as if I were there again, at the edge of a cliff, ready to jump even if it meant being dashed on the rocks below. The unknown of that jump scared me, not merely for the fear Connor might betray me, but because he was going to war. The rocks under that cliff were a thousand times more jagged and tearing; a million times more unforgiving. And yet…

“Connor?”

“Yeah, babe.”

I jumped.

“I’m falling in love with you.”

I felt my heartbeat everywhere; in my breath as I lived in that moment with the silence roaring in my ears. The fear of the unknown was vibrant, but I was there, with him, and it was worth everything.

Connor sat up, gently moving me aside. He stared at me, a strange expression in his face—something between nervousness and exhilaration.

“You are?” he whispered.

Tears sprang to my eyes at his naked hope and happiness. I sat up, letting the sheet fall away, and pressed my lips against his shoulder.

“You know I didn’t want a relationship,” I said. “I wasn’t looking for anything after Mark, but I loved how easy-going you were. How you brought me into your circle. But then you started showing me parts of you no one else sees. Those deeper thoughts of your heart. Your poetry. And God, Connor, those letters.”

“The letters,” he said, and his fingers tightened in mine.

“I fought so hard to protect myself,” I said, “but your words broke through. You showed me your soul. I couldn’t help but fall for you. With every letter, I fell deeper and deeper.”

“You felt all that from…letters?”

“I first felt it with that poem you wrote about me. Then when we were talking on the phone, when I was in Nebraska. That night… this layer peeled away to reveal your true self. I could feel it. I could feel the real you over the line and it made me feel safe. Then things moved so quickly after Thanksgiving. I thought we’d lost each other. But then the letters started coming. I was weak reading them. All that self-protection I built fell away. You were putting your soul in envelopes and mailing it to me. Every word, I became more and more yours.”

“Mine,” he said, his voice so small against the big frame of his body.

I ran my fingers along his hair, cut short but soft under my skin. “You’re handsome and popular and wealthy. I know you worry people see only those parts of you. But I don’t. I promise you, if you were poor or everyone hated you, I wouldn’t care. I know your soul, Connor, and that’s what I love.”

“My soul,” Connor said slowly, his emerald eyes searching mine. “You’re in love…with my soul?”

“Yes,” I said, letting the word out into the air between us, naked and fragile. “I am.”

We stared a long, silent moment. Connor looked away then. He ran his hands along his head, tugging at hair that wasn’t there. Brows furrowed tight over his eyes and mouth drawn down.

Something’s wrong.

I gathered the sheet around me, my stomach twisting into knots. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” he said, still far away. “It’s just…” He shook his head abruptly, and a shadow of his beautiful smile returned. “Nothing. It’s fine.”

“Fine?”

“No, God no. It’s more than fine.” He gathered me into his arms and held me against his chest. “I’m just…a little overwhelmed by everything. Boot Camp was hell, and we’re shipping out in a little more than a week. And now this… It’s a lot to process.”

I stiffened. “I didn’t mean to add more to your stress.”