I Only Have Eyes for You
Page 56Zach was pouring himself another shot as Jake headed back to his car to go tell Sophie that he loved her.
He always had.
And he always would.
Chapter Twenty-one
Sophie was walking down the hallway to her apartment, flipping through the mail she hadn’t picked up all week, when she heard a low voice say, “Sophie.”
“You surprised me,” she squeaked as she almost dropped the stack of mail. “Oh my God, Jake!” The bills and advertisements fell from her hand.
He looked like he’d been mugged and beaten in an alley, covered with bruises and drying blood from his forehead to his chin.
“It looks worse than it is.” He touched his jaw. “Probably should have gone home to clean up first.” Even with the bruises, the cuts, all across his face, he was impossibly beautiful as he asked, “Any chance you remember how to bandage up a guy after a fight?”
She knew she should unlock her door and take him inside, but she needed to hold him right that second. She opened her arms and he walked into them, pulling her tight against him.
She didn’t know how long they stood like that in her hallway. All she knew was that she didn’t want to ever let go of him. Everything had seemed so perfect this morning, like maybe there was a chance that they were going to get their happily-ever-after.
Not moving her head from where it lay over Jake’s heart, she asked, “Who did this to you?”
Jake finally pulled out of her arms. “Let’s go inside.”
She frowned. That wasn’t an answer.
Her hands were shaking slightly as she slid her key into the lock, but she worked hard at remaining calm as she moved into the kitchen, found a clean hand towel, and turned on a stream of lukewarm water to wet it. God, she hated knowing Jake was hurt. He was so much bigger than she was, but she wanted to protect him, wanted to make sure he didn’t know any more pain in his life than he already had.
His voice came from behind her. “I went to see Zach tonight.”
She spun from the sink, forgetting she had the wet towel in her hand and flinging water on her walls. “Why?” But she knew why. “You told him about us, about my pregnancy, didn’t you?” When he didn’t deny it, pain moved through her as she said, “How could you? You promised me you’d wait. You promised you’d let me figure things out first.” She loved him—would always love him—but she was angry with him too. “Why ask for a week if you weren’t actually going to give it to me?”
“You keep wanting to hold on to this week thing, but after yesterday, after this morning, you know as well I do that things are different between us now.”
“I’m not going to keep hiding the truth from your family.”
“The truth? And what truth is that, exactly? That you have zero respect for my wishes? That you just up and take whatever you want, whenever you want it? That it is so important to you to lock me into marrying you that you had to go behind my back to tell my brother you made the mistake of sleeping with me and getting me pregnant?”
“You want to hear the goddamned truth?”
Jake had never raised his voice to her like this before, but then again, neither had she. “Of course I do, but you wouldn’t know the truth if it slammed into you like one of my brother’s fists!”
The abrupt silence that followed was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before.
“I’m in love with you, Sophie.”
Sophie had waited for this moment her whole life...but even in her wildest dreams, she hadn’t thought it would be like this, while they were screaming at each other and she was furious with him.
“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, since the first time a pretty little five-year-old girl looked up at me and asked me if I wanted to play dolls.”
And love.
“I only said that stuff to you because I hated the way I felt when you looked at me. The way I still feel every time I’m with you. Hell, Sophie, I feel it every time I even think about you, like I’ve finally found something, someone, who matters. Only, I’ve never had the first clue how to hold on to you. Or how to be worthy of you.”
How long had she wanted to believe she mattered to him? To believe in impossible love becoming possible?
Jake’s arms came around her as he sat on a kitchen chair and pulled her onto his lap. “I know I screwed this up. Big time.” He brushed a trail of moisture from her face. “I’m an idiot, remember?”
“No,” she had to say, “you’re not. You’re anything but that, Jake.”
But it was as if she’d never spoken. “Let me make it up to you.” He stroked her hair, pulled her closer. “Please don’t be mad at me. Don’t push me away. Even if I deserve it.”