“I’m okay,” I whispered fervently, because I thought he needed to hear that, but it went largely ignored.

“When I got to the bar I saw your car shot the fuck up and you weren’t there. Neither was Roxy . . .” He seemed to gather himself as his hand shook against my cheek. “It was Nick who told me it was you. He’d been outside. Got to me before the police did. All he knew was that you’d been shot and that you hadn’t been awake when the paramedics arrived. Calla, I . . . I can’t even put into words what I felt in that moment or what I felt getting my ass to this hospital. All I knew was that I fucked up yesterday.” His chest rose with a deep breath. “I could’ve lost you. Fuck, I could’ve really lost you. And if I didn’t get this chance to be talking to you right now and if you were taken from me and I lost the opportunity to spend yesterday with you, being with you, loving you, I’d never forgive myself for that. So you know what, Calla, I’m going to forgo any bullshit right now. And I hope you’re with me on this, but even if you aren’t, I gotta get it out there and I’m not going to regret saying this to you.”

I was starting to breathe heavy, not in a taxing way, but I knew something was coming, and my throat was burning and not because it was dry. So were my eyes. They felt wet, because two words really stood out among all the powerful words he spoke. Loving you.

“I gotta tell you that I love you, Calla,” he said, and I was surprised the heart monitor didn’t catch the fact it felt like my heart had stopped for a moment. “No bullshit. I do. I love the way you think, even if it’s annoying as fuck at times and even then it’s still cute. I love that there’s a shit ton of things you’ve never gotten to experience and that you’re going to get to experience them with me. That I have that honor. I love your strength and everything you’ve survived. I love your courage and I love that you make shit drinks, but no one cares, because you’re so damn nice.”

A soft surprised laugh burst from me and my words were wobbly when I spoke. “I do make some shit drinks.”

“You do. It’s true. I’m pretty sure your Long Island iced teas could kill people, but that’s okay.” His lips curved up on one side as his gaze held mine steadily. “I love your sense of humor and the fact you never ate grits before. There’s so much I love about you that I know I’m in love with you. So, honey, you can have all my shirts you want.”

My breath caught again, and I opened my mouth, but there were no words at first, because there was so much I wanted to say to him. I wanted to list the things that I loved about him, but all I could say was “I’m in love with you.”