Hold Me Close - Talia Hibbert Page 0,229

touched, smoothing his palms over her skin. And then he pulled her tight against his chest, buried his face against her hair, and breathed her in. “God, I love you. I love you so much, Hannah. I should’ve told you weeks ago.”

“Weeks?” she squeaked.

“Weeks,” he repeated firmly. “I didn’t know you felt like this, love. I didn’t know you were so worried. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said. Her words were kind of muffled, since her face was smushed against the massive slab of his chest, but the message seemed clear enough.

And then Nate released her—kind of. She wasn’t smushed against his chest anymore, but she was still quite firmly in his lap. He cupped her cheeks in his hands with the sort of certainty that suggested he didn’t plan on letting her go. “I’m telling you right now,” he said softly, “that this is real. It doesn’t get any more real than this. I am in love with you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She laughed shakily. “Even if I’m really insecure and may or may not have daddy issues?”

He leant in until their noses touched. “You could have all the issues in the world, sweetheart. I don’t give a shit. Just tell me when they’re drowning you, okay?”

She dragged in a breath. It sounded disturbingly like a teary sort of sniff, but that couldn’t be right. Surely, she’d cried enough for the next year, at least? “I think you have enough to worry about without handling my random neuroses.”

“Hannah. When I can’t sleep because my mind’s moving too fast, you hold my hand and remind me to breathe. When my head hurts and my vision blurs too much to read, you do it for me. Even when you think I shouldn’t be reading at all.”

“Well,” she muttered, “spending all your free time researching sarcoidosis can’t be healthy.”

“But you let me. And you help me. And you pour coffee down my throat the next morning, and you find ways to keep the kids quiet when my head pounds, and you make me smile when I want to cry. You keep me afloat. You keep everything and everyone afloat. Do you know how much I want to do that for you?”

She was starting to get that, yeah. Hence the sneaky little tears sliding down her face. “Um… okay. Okay.”

“I know you can’t magically start sharing your feelings,” he said, “but I would probably die of happiness if you tried.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Cool. Right. Good. Fabulous. Um… Nate, I’m so sorry if I hurt you. I never want to hurt you. Not even a little bit. Not even by accident. I just, I really fucking love you.”

“Good,” he said. “Because I really fucking love you, too.” His hands slid into her hair. “So kiss me.”

She did. And there was no creeping panic, no ticking clock, no tightly contained fear. Just Nate’s soft, smiling mouth, and happiness.

23

Hannah: If you send me any more dog pics I’m blocking your number.

Rae: How are you not loving this? Where is your HEART, woman?!

“If you think you’re sleeping without me tonight,” he said, “you’ve had too much champagne.”

“I haven’t had any champagne, genius.” Hannah was standing in her bedroom doorway, hands on her hips, glare at full capacity. But he could see a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth, the only sign that she was fighting a smile.

Nate loved that smile.

It had barely left her face, in one way or another, since they’d returned to the party a couple of hours ago. Since then, they’d said goodbye to guests, checked on the kids and his mother, completely given up on the cleaning—which meant Hannah really must be tired—and gotten ready for bed.

Apparently, she hadn’t realised that ‘bed’, to Nate, officially meant A soft, horizontal place that includes Hannah.

“Let me in,” he murmured, reaching out to trace the slight curve of her lips.

“Nathaniel,” she whispered back, “your mother is in the house.”

He sighed. “This is going to be so much easier when everyone knows about us.”

“And when would that be?”

“Soon. Come to bed and I’ll tell you.”

She hesitated, her eyes widening slightly. What with everything that had happened tonight, Nate still hadn’t told her about his plan.

“I won’t fall asleep,” he reminded her. “You know I won’t. I just want to talk.”

She gave him a look that was somehow skeptical and flirtatious all at once. “Right,” she drawled. “Talk.” But that hint of a smile became the real thing, even as she rolled