The air freezes in my lungs.
The muscles in my body go completely rigid.
“What?”
“You heard me,” he says starkly. “I love you. I amin lovewith you. I have been for months, probably since the first time I saw you on Christmas night, sporting a black eye but still somehow smiling. Sitting on the floor of a dirty dog kennel, celebrating the holiday with a dozen mangey mutts.”
I suck in a breath.
He was there for that?
I’d felt so alone, that night. The whole rest of the world was with family and friends, singing carols and spreading holiday cheer… but I was alone, with nothing at all to celebrate except the ending of my marriage. I sat on that kennel floor replaying my morning over and over in my mind. Paul’s rage and my terror and the shriek of squad cars racing down Merriweather Street.
That was the moment I swore to myself I was done with love for good.
Coincidentally… thesamemoment Conor looked through a window at a lonely girl on a dirty floor and fell in love with her.
You can’t say fate doesn’t have a sense of humor…
At the time, I thought that was probably the worst day of my entire life. But now that I know it brought me straight to Conor…
I glance up. Right at him.
His eyes are warm. Ultra warm. Practically burning.
He loves me,I think, stunned.Conor Gallagher loves me.
At least… he thinks he does.
For now.
The panic hits so fast, it levels me — stealing away my fragile hopes in an instant. Suddenly, my mind is reeling like a merry-go-round. My heart is pounding far too fast to possibly be healthy. I think I’m going to need a cardiologist at the ripe age of twenty-nine.
Cause of death: sheer and utter panic.
“Shelby.” His voice is soothing; he can totally see me freaking out. “Take a breath.”
My head is shaking, thoughts tumbling over each other so fast it’s a struggle to force one through my lips. “What the hell are you thinking, telling me you love me? You can’t possiblyloveme. You don’t evenknowme!”
“I know you.”
“You only think you know me,” I whisper, shaking my head. “There are things you don’t know, things that might change how you feel or—”
“Shelby Quinn Hunt.”
My words dry up. “Y-yes?”
“I know where you grew up and why you got out. I know you like dogs more than cats, especially strays that don’t have homes to call their own. I know you prefer buying your groceries at a Farmers Market stall over a grocery store aisle. I know you have friends who love you, even though you keep them at arm’s length sometimes.” His mouth twists. “I know you can put your legs behind your head in a crazy ass yoga pose — and that it looks even better when you’re doing it naked, while I’m deep inside you and you’re screaming out my name.”
Oh, boy.
I think he’s done, but he’s not.
“I know the way you take your coffee, the places you run to clear your head, your favorite takeout spot. And I know you’re terrified out of your damn mind to hear me saying all these things to you right now, because the last asshole who told you he loved you ended up being the worst sort of liar.”
I’m stunned silent.
Utterly speechless.