Traded(85)
She swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“I don’t want that anymore.”
Her eyes instantly filled with tears and she tried to stand up and walk away, but I took her hand in mine and stopped her, urging her to sit back down. “That didn’t come out right. Please stay and listen.” I was annoyed with myself. Not once in my life had I had trouble talking to women, but right now I sounded like a tongue-tied idiot. “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t want you to leave. Even when you get back on your feet, I want you to stay and be mine.”
Her eyes widened and I watched as her body went tight.
“I love you, Elena.”
CHAPTER 25
Elena
“What?”
My voice came out all breathy, so much so that I questioned whether or not it was audible. Did Ashton just say he loved me? Pieces of the conversation I had with Miller a few weeks ago came back to me.
“He was already falling for you.”
“I am completely in love with you, Elena,” he said, his gaze never leaving mine.
The words both scared and excited me. They were the ones I’d longed to hear from Ashton’s lips, but I knew I couldn’t return them. Even though he’d never shown me anything but care and compassion, the fear of rejection still festered, buried deep within me. As much as I willed them to come, no words would leave my mouth. I didn’t know what to say.
Did I want to stay with Ashton? More than anything. But would he still want me if I couldn’t utter those three little words? There was only one way to find out. I was tired of living in fear.
“I want to stay with you, more than you can even imagine . . . but I need more time—”
His fingers covered my lips.
“You don’t have to say it back. Take all the time you need.”
Cupping my face in his hands, he slanted his lips over mine in a passionate kiss. The soft, slow movements were more about sharing ourselves than lust. When his tongue slid across my lips, tasting every inch, I groaned. There, on the ledge of the fountain, I ignored the world around us. The only thing that mattered was Ashton, and the happiness he’d brought to my life.
Our lips parted, the corners of his mouth pulling up into a smile. He stood and reached a hand out to me. “Come on. I believe I owe you a celebration dinner.”
“You do.” I winked and placed my hand in his.
On the way back to the car, I noticed Ashton’s shoulders had relaxed. Even his breathing seemed lighter.
I glanced over at him as he pulled the car out onto the road. “Ashton?”
He took hold of my hand and linked our fingers together, bringing my hand up to his lips. “Yes?”
“Were you afraid to ask me to stay? I noticed you seem more relaxed now that it’s out in the open.”
He smirked. “A little. I didn’t think you’d tell me no, but with everything you’ve been through I wasn’t sure. Plus, I wanted to find the perfect time to tell you.”
“I didn’t need the perfect time. I just need you.”
“You may not have needed the perfect time, but you deserved it.”
“Thank you. And I—”
Once again he cut me off. “Not until you’re ready. I can wait.”
We pulled up outside La Tratoria. Every time I saw the place, it always amazed me with it elegance. “A special dinner for two?”
“Something like that.”
He hopped out of the car and opened my door before I had a chance to unbuckle myself. We walked into the restaurant hand in hand and it felt nice to be on the arm of a man who cherished me—who loved me. I felt strange just thinking it. The man holding my hand was in love . . . with me. The feeling of pride that swelled in my chest was like nothing I’d ever felt. It was a delicious sensation; one I knew I’d never tire of.
Bypassing the main dining room, I was confused. We’d eaten at the same table each time we’d dined there so, naturally, I assumed we’d be sitting there. I didn’t question him, just went where he led. When we came to a door in the back, Ashton opened it with a flourish. We stepped into the room and I froze.
My parents.
My parents.
Oh my God.
The air left my lungs in a whoosh, the hand not in Ashton’s now clasped over my mouth. My knees began to buckle and I felt him slide closer, knowing that if he hadn’t been holding me, there was no way I would still be on my feet. I hadn’t seen them in so long, yet it felt like yesterday. Mom’s hair was shorter, her eyes more tired, but she was still the same woman who’d blown on my cuts and grazes, talked to me about boys, and helped me curl my hair for prom. Dad was slightly grayer, but it suited him. He’d filled out a bit too. But his smile was exactly the same. I loved that smile nearly as much as I loved my dad.