Page 238 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions
“Ah!” George shoved my face away with a laugh, his earlier upset gone.
It was only when he was smiling at me, this tremulous, eager thing—so goddamn proud of himself for speaking up, for being brave, for taking what he wanted—that my own words rose to the surface.
“I never wanted you to go.” My truths spilled free, muttered between kisses that tasted like second-chances. “I don’t ever want to be apart from you.” George made a hurt sound, but I continued. “I don’t want to be without you for a single fucking second.”
“You didn’t say anything,” George said, still smiling, despite the devastating honesty of his words. “You promised to be honest. You promised not to play games.”
“I know.” I smiled, but it wasn’t happy, not like his. His fingers yanked me closer, those gorgeous eyes on mine. He waited, blinking away stray drops of rain, patient as the whirr of the Ryde’s engine sounded beside us. “I…”
I didn’t know how to explain, but I tried.
“I was scared,” I said softly, surprised when the words spilled free.
“Scared?” George blinked.
“I’ve never loved someone like I love you,” I admitted. “I…didn’t—don’t know what to do. I hate not knowing what to do. I hate not knowing the answers?—”
George was quiet for a moment, but only a moment. And then he was reeling me back into a hug, smooshing into me, going so far as to yank my hands around him so I was hugging back exactly the way he wanted.
It was the bossiest, fussiest hug in the history of the world.
And it was perfect.
“It’s okay not to have all the answers,” George said softly. “Maybe…instead ofbeing stupid—next time we can just…ask each other. Honesty very rarely, if ever, ruins good things,” George recited.
I laughed.
Because when he said it like that, it sounded so simple.
“Real boyfriends communicate,” George chided. “That’s my boyfriend lesson for you.”
“Oh, really?” I snorted. “Georgie-the-adorable-hypocrite strikes again. Who exactly was the one that walked into that airport without even looking at me?!”
“If I’d looked at you I wouldn’t have left!” George squeezed me tight, far tighter than I thought he was capable.
“I was coming back for you,” I promised, sobering. “I was coming back for you—”I repeated, days worth of pent-up emotion making my voice quake. It didn’t feel like days. Felt more like centuries, honestly. Like I’d spent this life, and the last, and the one before that wanting him, chasing him, craving him. “I was such an idiot, George. I should’ve told you the truth from the start.”
“The truth?”
“That you deserve better than what Brendon ever gave you. You deserve…” Christ…there were so many things it was hard to pick. “You deserve to be with someone that respects you. Someone that adores every messy, dramatic, delightful part of you. Someone that loves you enough to tease you?—”
“You do a lot of that,” George griped, though the roughness of his voice betrayed how touched he was. And yet—I wasn’t done. Wasn’t fucking done. Because now that the words were flowing, I couldn’t seem to get them to stop. The dam had been broken, the overflowing well of my George-oriented thoughts spilling free.
“You deserve to be with someone you can trust. Someone who wants a future with you. Someone that makes you laugh. Someone that’s proud to call you his.” Tears blurred my vision and I blinked them away—annoyed at their presence because they were blocking my view of his face. Of the way his lips were trembling. Of the way his breath puffed out, in panicked bursts.
“Alex—” George whined, clearly struggling. But I didn’t stop. Didn’t stop, because for his entire adult life George had been starved of affection. He’d begged for scraps of attention. Bent over backward for praise he never received. And I could see in his eyes that my declaration was doing something to him.
Breaking him down.
Breaking him so that he could build himself stronger.
So that we could be something better. So that he could stand on his own. So he could understand his worth didn’t come from a boyfriend’s feelings or perception, but because he deserved better.
We could reconstruct our foundations in tandem.
We could fortify one another.
I wanted to be the standard he set for himself.
