Dating Games(85)

I lift my head and peer into his eyes. “How do you know?”

He brings his thumbs up to my eyes, wiping at them. “It’s the truth. I am not a good man. I won’t bring you down with me. You deserve the sun and moon and stars.” He brings his forehead to mine. “I can’t give that to you.”

I cup his face, relishing in the scruff of his unshaven jaw. “What if you already have?”

He swallows hard as his eyes lock with mine. I can see the internal struggle through those vibrant blue orbs, ones I’ve seen look at me in a way I never thought another man would. So much admiration. So much devotion. So much…love?

Before I can react, he swallows me in his embrace, crushing his lips to mine, his kiss ravenous, desperate, needy, as tears slide down my cheeks. I arch into him, returning his kiss with the same intensity, wanting to remember every groan, every circle of his hips, every swipe of his tongue before the candle is extinguished.





Chapter Thirty-One





They say time seems to drag when you’re excited about something. The opposite is true, as well, because my final weekend with Julian flies by, time rushing when I’d love nothing more than for it to slow down.

The myriad of events I attend on Julian’s arm are marked with a celebratory atmosphere reminiscent of the last days of school. I hate lying to all these people as I make plans to get together with several of them in the city. But that won’t happen, not once word of our breakup gets out. I’ll be back to my normal life, and my summer with Julian will be nothing but a distant memory. In my heart, I know that will never be the case. Not for me. And not for Julian. He’s struggling with this, too. I can see it in his eyes as he looks upon me with a hint of longing, feel it in his arms as he holds me a little tighter, taste it in his lips as he presses them against me with a bit more desperation.

As I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror as Camille helps zip up the stunning charcoal-colored ballgown I’m to wear to the final gala, it’s bittersweet. I’ve kept my emotions at bay all weekend in front of everyone, only allowing Julian to see them in the hopes he’d change his mind. Now that it’s almost over, a tear escapes at the knowledge that this is it, my last night by his side. It’s not about the glitz and glamor. What’s killing me is never experiencing the same adoration, devotion, or affection I have this summer. Even if it’s not real. In my heart, it is. It has been since the beginning.

“It’ll be okay.” Camille fetches a tissue and holds it out when she notices the tear sliding down my cheek. I offer her a smile as I bring it to my eyes, grateful I’d worn waterproof mascara. “He’s struggling, too.”

“Right,” I scoff. All weekend, Julian’s been his usual charming self. Yes, there’s a hint of sadness surrounding him, but not enough to make a change.

“Trust me, sweetie. I’ve known Mr. Gage a long time. I’ve never seen him this...unsure.”

“Then why doesn’t he say something? Why does he insist he can’t give me what I deserve? Who is he to make that determination?”

Camille clasps my hands in hers as she leads me toward the sitting area, both of us lowering ourselves onto the couch. “Did you know that Mr. Gage spent his younger years in the foster care system?”

Swallowing hard, I shake my head. After those first few days, I tried to steer clear of all articles about him, mainly because I was mentioned in a lot of them. The last thing I wanted was to read gossip about myself, something Julian had warned me against earlier in the summer.

“How did he end up there?” I lower my voice. “Does it have something to do with the scars?”

She pinches her lips in contemplation. “That’s not my story to tell, but being in the foster system can change you. The system failed him, didn’t get him the help he needed after what he went through… Didn’t give him the love he needed. That boy spent his most impressionable years desperate for love, only to never have it bestowed on him. It’s my belief he gave up and decided he’s undeserving of love.”

I stare straight ahead, absorbing her words. Julian never spoke of his childhood much. Whenever I asked, he closed up, saying it was unimportant. Now I understand why. The scars have never fully healed. Physically and emotionally.

“Maybe if you show him he’s deserving of love, if you tell him how much you love him—”

Whipping my eyes toward hers, I inhale a sharp breath. “I never said I loved him.”

She pats my hand affectionally. “You didn’t have to. It’s written all over you, dear. You love that man, probably more than you’ve loved any other person in your life.”

“I—”

“And he loves you, but refuses to admit it…to himself or anyone else. Yes, he’s a grown man, but at times, he’s still that lost little boy desperate for even the slightest show of love, the one who cries himself to sleep because he doesn’t think he deserves to be loved. Prove him wrong. Show him he is.” She holds my gaze a moment longer, her eyes pleading with me to love Julian like he deserves. Do I love him? I don’t want to admit the answer. It will only make tonight more difficult than it already is.

“Come on, Cinderella. Let’s get you to the ball,” she says, ripping me out of my thoughts.