Someone to Love(58)

“Shit,” he gravels it out.

“I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.” I help him to his feet and land his arm around my shoulders as we amble back to the truck.

“I’m okay,” he says, dropping his head between his knees for a moment like he’s totally not. He looks like he’s about to hurl, but instead he draws in a deep breath and comes up fighting with a flicker of resolve, determined not to pass out again.

“I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“What for?” He plucks the keys from his pocket, and the truck chirps to life.

“You’re hurt.” My voice cracks. Tears are pooling, turning the world into a watery illusion, and there’s no way to stop them. I’ve turned into a monster and inadvertently may have cost Cruise any hope of carrying on the family name.

I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the window to confirm my beastly theory. There I am, completely disheveled. My lipstick is smeared—my shirt is buttoned wrong, and my mascara has begun a mud slick down my cheeks. Who’s that girl, and what the hell am I doing to the people I love?

Did I say love?

“You’re the one who’s hurting, Kenny. I don’t want you to hurt.” He pulls me in and wraps his arms around my waist, solid and strong. “I don’t want you to do this anymore.”

I lean back and take him in. His velum eyes illuminate in the night, causing my body to quiver at the sight of him.

“What don’t you want me to do?” I say it low in the event I won’t like the answer.

“Pretend like you don’t care.” His dimples press in like twin shadows. The muscles in his jaw clench as he swallows hard. “You’re not the kind of girl who runs around after guys for the thrill of it. You had some vendetta to prove your stepfather wrong, and in an effort to prove a point, you came close to degrading yourself on a level that I’d never want for you in any lifetime.” Cruise presses in like he’s hedging for a kiss. There’s a tenderness in his eyes that I’ve never seen before in him or anybody else. “You’re special, Kenny. You deserve to be loved, wanted, and desired by someone who appreciates you for the treasure you are.”

His words cover my wounds like a balm. All of the self-doubt, the self-incrimination, the pity parties rolled into one—Cruise is healing them with his mouth, his kind heart.

“Do you think I’m a treasure?” The words stream out like the plea of a child—an unpretentious question that has its hope pinned on only one answer.

“Yes.” A smile blooms from his lips, and joy percolates to the surface. “I thought so right from the beginning. I never intended on throwing you to the wolves.” A rumble of laughter ripples through his chest, and my body moves in rhythm. “Kenny?” He tilts into me. His features grow all together serious. “I don’t want you to become the female version of me.” His Adam’s apple rises and falls. “I’m not so interested in being me anymore, either. When I saw you at the party that first night, you changed everything for the better. I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Kendall Jordan.” He takes in a breath as if he were bracing himself for a leap off the Empire State building. “And, I love you.”

Every cell in my body sighs with relief. It’s as if Cruise had taken me under the shelter of his wing, covered me in the membrane of those powerful words, and for the first time in my entire life, I feel safe, secure in every way.

“You love me?” I whisper it breathless at the thought of being loved by someone as kind and gorgeous as Cruise. I’m not sure I had ever heard those words from anyone outside of my mother, and from her, it was born with grief as if she were apologizing for my existence on some level.

“Yes, I love you.” His brows dip in amused—baffled I could believe otherwise. “I love you, Kenny. I love everything about you.”

Cruise sinks a kiss over my lips that emphasizes his newfound affection for me far greater than words could ever hope to express. He’s pouring an intoxicating elixir right down into my soul through his loving lingual expression. This is ecstasy, rapture. Cruise is turning water into wine and I am ready and willing to drink down the miracle.

The snow dances over us, soft like a blessing. Cruise rides his warm hands up my shirt, singeing me with his heat, and suddenly I want nothing more than his entire body covering mine.

I pull back. My eyes remain closed an inordinate amount of time. I’m dizzy with his words, drunk on his kisses, and I want so much more from Cruise tonight.

I blink into him. He’s still here. He’s real. All of this is real.