Page 67 of Rebelonging


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"You know him?" I asked.

"Not from before. And not from now either. Inevercome back here."

"So why today?" I said. "And why with me?"

"Because," he said, "there's something I need to say."

Chapter 34

He turned sideways in the car to face me. "It's about what happened. What I did to you."

I stared deep into his eyes and heard myself ask, "What about it?"

He looked down and shook his head. "It wasn't right. I'm not stupid. I know that. Shit, I knew it at the time. And why I couldn’t stop myself—" He looked up again, meeting my gaze with an intensity so sharp that it hurt to watch. "I am so fucking ashamed of myself, I can't even tell you."

My breath was coming short and fast. This car, this place, him – it was all so surreal. And his voice was hypnotic. I wanted to fall into his arms and never let go.

He reached out for my hand. "You're my dream girl, Chloe. You've got to believe that." His voice got this far-off quality. "I wished for you, and here you are, everything I ever imagined. Yeah, I won't lie. I've been with a lot of girls. But there's been nobody like you."

"Really?"

He nodded, never breaking eye contact. "I mean it. I love you. I should've told you sooner. And I should've done a better of showing it. But if you just give me one more chance, I swear to you, you won't regret it."

I caught my breath, and my heart flip-flopped. I wanted to believe it. But it was all so unbelievable. Girls had literally fought over him. Lots of girls. Did they all think they were something special too?

"I want to tell you something else," he said. "And I'm dead serious. The things I've told you today, I've never told anyone."

"Ever?" I said.

"Ever."

The admission was staggering. And still, the question lingered. Why me?

He was Lawton Rastor, and I was a waitress without a home of my own. And he'd been linked to so many girls, women actually. How could someone like me stand out in a sea of endless choices?

But I couldn't help it. Listening to him, my heart melted, and my eyes grew misty. When he squeezed my hand, I squeezed it back, too blown away to say much of anything.

"So when I thought you were just playing me," he continued, "pretending to be something you weren't, well, I guess I went a little nuts. But I swear to God, it will never, ever happen again."

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to process what he just said. If I were completely honest, Iwaspretending, although not in the way he feared.

Here he'd just bared his soul to me, told me his deepest, darkest secrets. If I couldn't do the same in return, I didn't deserve to be happy. And I sure as hell didn't deserve someone like him, who would bare his soul just to say he was sorry.

I squared my shoulders. "You need to know something too," I said. "That house in your neighborhood? It's not mine. I'm just staying there, that's all." I looked down. "I don't really belong there."

"Baby," he said. "I know it's not your house, remember?"

I felt myself nod.

"And you wanna know where you belong?"

"Where?" I said.

"With me."

I felt myself smile. In my whole life, I'd never been wanted like this, not even from my parents.

"Now c'mon," he said. "No more serious talk. Whatever's going on, we'll work it out, alright?"