I circle my arms around her back. “Not you. Any girl,” I say, needing to clarify. “And that’s what I believed back then.”
“But not anymore?” Her brow creases. “I don’t understand.”
“That makes two of us.” I smooth a hand up and down her back, loving the feeling of her in my arms again. “I was confused over my sexuality when we first agreed to fake date to keep our parents off our backs, but that was nothing compared to how confused I was after I let you go.”
“Are you saying you’re into women now too?” she asks, repositioning herself on my lap so she’s straddling me.
The sultry, spicy perfume she wears wraps around me like a comfort blanket, and my cock swells in my pants. “I’m saying I’m into you.”
She blinks profusely. “How?”
I lift my hips, pressing my hard-on against her. “Feel that?” She nods. “That’s what you do to me. No other woman has ever turned me on like you, and it took me letting you go to realize it.”
“But you’re still into guys.”
There is no judgment in her statement. She has always accepted me as I am.
I was honest with her, pretty much from the start.
That first night we met, at my house, because Dad had just hired his lawyer’s wife to work on a new advertising campaign, we got drunk on a stolen bottle of Mom’s gin and ended up making out. I thought about her a lot over the next few weeks, and when we next met, and ended up kissing again, I blurted out that I was gay. She was cool about it, and the fake relationship was her suggestion. One I latched on to because it would get Mom off my case. She’d started arranging dates for me, and it was making me ill. Lo wanted to get her parents off her case too. They were worried about her after the traumatic experience she’d been through. Having me as a boyfriend helped alleviate some of their fears.
“Yes, but I’ve never acted on it.”
“But you’ve fucked other girls,” she says. “With the guys.”
“Two,” I admit. “And there were a few I let suck my dick, but that’s it. None of them got my juices flowing.”
She grabs both sides of my face, tilting my head up to her. “It was seeing the guys that did it.”
Heat creeps up my neck and on to my cheeks. She knows me so well.
“Or was it just him?”
I gulp over the messy ball of emotion clogging my throat. “I should’ve known you’d figure it out.”
“Does he know?”
I vigorously shake my head. “No, and that’s the way I want to keep it.”
“He won’t hear it from me.”
“I don’t know how to tell them,” I admit. “I don’t know how they’ll react. I can’t lose the only family I’ve got.”
“Do you think they suspect?” she asks.
I shrug. “I think I’ve hidden it well. It’s the only reason I’ve gone near any of those girls.”
She looks off into space. “I think they might surprise you.” She turns to me with a soft smile. “You should tell them. You need to tell them. The longer you keep it secret, the harder it will get, and the more they might feel like it’s a betrayal.”
“I’m scared,” I admit. “I don’t want them to look at me any differently.”
“You really think they would?”
“I don’t think so, but if they do, I stand to lose everything.”
She worries her lower lip between her teeth. “I’m sorry, Theo.”
“For what?” I arch a brow. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who needs to apologize. I should never have pushed you away.” I close my eyes as her fingers wind through my hair, and I’m in heaven.
I have always loved the feel of her hands running through my hair.
I have always loved her touch.
Period.
I can’t begin to explain it, because she’s the only woman I’m attracted to. The only woman I’ve ever wanted.
“I spent years torturing myself over being gay,” I admit, and this is nothing new, because Harlow is the only other person on this planet who knows the truth about me. “And now, I don’t know what label to apply.”
“You’re bi,” she says, and my eyes pop open.
I run my hands up each side of her neck. “I’m not. I’m into guys. And you.”
“Then, maybe, you’re…” She halts mid-sentence, a look of fierce determination washing over her beautiful face. “You know what? I fucking hate labels, and I’m not attaching one to you. You are you.” She cups my face. “And you are beautifully, perfectly imperfect. Never change, and never apologize or feel bad for who you are.”
“I am not worthy of you.” I skim my thumbs along the elegant column of her neck, my eyes dropping to her lips. “Do you have any idea how deeply I care about you? How badly my heart and soul has ached for you?”
“Theo.” Her tone is barely louder than a whisper, her voice choked. “I spent years missing you. Believing my feelings were unrequited. If I’d known…”
“I did it for you, Lo.” I move my hands up, clasping her face in my palms. “The main reason I joined The Sainthood was for you. I knew if your father was caught up with them it wasn’t by choice. Dad was freaking out too badly to stop and realize that truth. Your father was a good man, and he worshiped the ground you and Giana walked on. My gut told me he was mixed up with them out of force, not free will.”
I pull her face to mine, resting my forehead against hers. Her alluring scent swirls around me, and I never want to let her go. “I didn’t know they were behind your kidnapping, but I knew somehow, instinctively, that your dad’s involvement with them was connected to you. I was terrified you’d get dragged into it, and I knew if I could make it up to you I had to protect you. And what better way to do that than from the inside? It’s all been for you Lo, because you are everything to me.”
“Oh my God, Theo,” she cries, planting a firm kiss on my lips. “You crazy, stupid idiot. I never wanted you to get involved with them, certainly not on my account. All you had to do was tell me the truth.” She flings her arms around me, smushing my face all up in her tits.
Not that I’m complaining. They are bigger than they were when we were dating, even though she was already well developed, but I’ve been itching to put my hands on her from the moment she reentered my life. I bury my head in her chest, and a satisfied sigh escapes my lips.
“Do you know how much I love you?” she whispers, her voice trembling. I lift my head. A single tear rolls down her face. “Or how hard it is to admit that even to myself?” Another tear slides out of her eye. “There were so many nights I berated myself over yearning for you, knowing you could never love me back because I had the wrong body parts.”
Silent tears continue to cascade down her face, and I wipe them away with my thumbs. “You don’t, baby,” I whisper, pressing my lips to hers and closing my eyes, reveling in the feel of her hot mouth against mine. “That’s where we were both wrong.” I open my eyes, placing my hand over her tit, in the spot where her heart is thudding wildly. “It was never about that. Not with us. Not when your soul speaks to mine in the way it does. Not with the connection we have. I know you’re scared. Fuck it, I’m scared too. I never want to hurt you again, but I’m done feeling like half a person. I lost half my soul the day I let you go, and I was an idiot for not chasing after you.”