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Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned about men, it’s that they all have some kind of facade they’ve created to draw you in.
At that moment, I make my decision. I’m going to keep her. I’m going to keep this woman. Fuck her matching me up.
If only I wasn’t so damaged and could set aside the inevitable heartbreak and let myself enjoy this. Enjoy him.
“But we’re… you’re a client. We’re not…” “I’ll let you keep thinking that.” What the hell does that mean?
“A woman in heels is sexy as fuck. A man looks at a woman in heels, he instantly thinks about wrapping them around his back or bending her over to fuck her from behind while she’s still wearing them—”
“You say no and this ends. You say no, I’m out that door, and you won’t have to deal with me again. But you say yes, and I’m carrying you to your room and fucking you until you don’t have any headspace left to overthink how fuckin’ good this is between us.”
Staring at him, looking in those green eyes that hold nothing but honesty and loyalty and a look that tells me he wants to treasure me… I make the biggest leap I’ve ever made.
“You might know red flags, but I know green ones. And this man is a fuckin’ leprechaun.”
“I’ll be yours, Luke.” And that’s all I need.
“You give me the chance, Cass, I’d kill to show you how beautiful life can be when you let your walls down, when you let people in.”
even if you do your best to be everything for a man, there’s just no guarantee he’ll be yours forever.
“From now on, it’s my job to make sure you know how fucking beautiful you are. To make sure you don’t question it, and when you look in the mirror, you only see beauty. When you see spots you used to hate, you remember me kissing them. Make sure you know how fucking gorgeous I think every damn inch of you is.”
“We’re gonna work on this.” “On what?” “This fucked-up idea you have of yourself.” “I don’t have—” “You do, Cass. And it’s fine. Gives me somethin’ to do. I’ll spend as long as I need to show you how beautiful you are. Run to the ends of the earth. Tell you every day you’re gorgeous, remind you how damn hard you make me. Whatever it takes until you see what the rest of the world sees.”
“Shut up. You shut up and you kick those assholes out of your head. You don’t let them get to you, don’t let them tell you how to feel about yourself when you’re the most beautiful person, inside and out, I’ve ever met.
The words catch at the small tear in my heart, one of thousands, catching it like a tiny threaded needle, adding a single stitch to the tear. Not enough to repair it —no, that’s my job. Only I can do the repairs, but a single stitch, a splint to keep it safe while I do the work.
