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The Ends of the World (The Conspiracy of Us #3)(92)

By:Maggie Hall


There were voices outside the door, but I ignored them, the reality of what he was saying crashing over me, fizzing and popping in my veins. He wasn't just agreeing to stay for me. He wanted it. Just like I did.

"But Anya-"

He nodded. "Yesterday, when you were talking about your mother, I started to think that if I left, I'd be doing the same thing. Living half a life, and forcing Anya to live half a life, all for the illusion of safety that could shatter at any time. This way, she'll be with me. She'll be as safe as she can be. She'll grow up surrounded by people who care about her, in a way neither of us got to do. And . . ." He twisted his fingers around mine nervously. "She could use a big-sister type. If you're okay with that. I know asking you to raise a child with me is not the normal topic of conversation on what's essentially a second date-"

I laughed past an unexpected tightness in my throat. "I am very much okay with it." I was almost embarrassed at how quickly I'd said it, and at the catch in my voice that made it mean so much more. I cleared my throat. "You and I will never have the kind of relationship we would have had if we'd met in calculus class and had to make out in your car after school like normal people."

A smile ghosted across his face, but more than a smile. Relief. "And I know the Circle does not love that I'm one half of this couple," he said. "It'll make it harder, and I'm sure there are many people who would be a better partner for you in this than I will. But I'll learn, and we'll have Luc to teach us, and Jack and Elodie to help-"



       
         
       
        

I threaded my fingers with his. "Stop," I said. Had he really been worrying that I would reject him for any of these reasons? "You know how to lead so people want to follow you, and you know the Circle from the inside. You care about people more than you care about politics. You're exactly what the Circle needs."

His eyes went soft, surprised in a way I'd never seen them. Was it possible that no one had ever told him that? People told him how good-looking he was. They told him he was talented at being a Keeper-but his ruthless, trained-killer side was his least favorite part of himself. I remembered him talking about how Jack was such a good person. Could it really be that he didn't believe the same things about himself? I promised myself right then that I'd appreciate all those other parts of him, and I'd let him know it.

"The Circle would be so lucky to have you," I said again. "They don't deserve you, really. But I hope I-I hope we do. Us. Me and Jack and Elodie and . . . our family."

The warmth of the candles around the room flickered over his face, and he gazed down at me like he had on the plane after we'd rescued Anya, like he couldn't quite believe I was real. "I've been waiting for something for so long," he said. "I didn't know what it was, but it . . ."

"Hurts," I whispered.

He nodded. "I kept noticing that I felt different, but it took me a long time to realize what it was. When I'm with you, I don't ache like something is missing anymore. I think maybe that's what it feels like to love someone. When being with them makes that ache go away."

He was right. For the first time I could remember, I didn't feel empty. I'd always felt so much more alive around him. That was exactly what this feeling was. "I love you," I said. We'd said it last night, and last night had been amazing. But something in me had been holding back, still guarding my heart. Now that I didn't have to, it was like a hundred doors inside me had blown open at once, and I couldn't hold back if I tried. "I should have realized it so much earlier than I did. I think I've been accidentally falling in love with you since . . ."

"The train," he said.

"Train?"

"For me it was earlier than that-in the water in Greece, I think. It made me feel like when you were attacked at Prada. When even though I barely knew you, I lost it at the thought of something happening to you." He shivered. "But the first time I thought you might feel something, too, was that morning on the train to Cannes. Do you remember that? I woke up with my arms around you. It only happened because I let my guard down, and I was ready to write it off, but the way you looked at me-like it was a mistake, but not like you were upset. Like-" 

"Like it was a mistake because I liked it," I whispered.

His free hand came to my hip, pulling me against him. "I want to sleep with you on lots of trains in the future."

I raised my eyebrows, and his grin turned sheepish. "I did not mean it like that. Although . . ."