Chapter 41

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His voice was shaky, quite misunderstood of what I admitted.

"You do?"

"Yes, Baylor. I do," I promised. I spoke softly, as if we didn't want anyone else to hear, but we spoke loud enough for the both of us to hear one another.

"Why?" What did he mean why? There are plenty of reasons why I love him. It wasn't his looks that just attracted, his personality made me stay.

"You're a wonderful person, Baylor." I spoke truthfully.

"I know you may not believe so, but you're very special and you're a good person. You care about me and you always show it." He smiled against my skin and connected his hand with mine. He brought our linked hands to his heart and pressed them there. I could feel the light thump under his hard bones.

"No one's ever told me that."

I frowned, my eyebrows furrowed. I kissed his neck. "Well I'll say it again: you mean the world to me."

"Say it." I didn't say anything, waiting for him to speak again. "I wanna hear you say it again."

"I love you."

"I love to hear you say that." He sounded pleased. I pondered over the thought of how long he's heard those three words directed to him.

Baylor moved to where the tip of our noses were touching and our face was directly in front of one another's. I couldn't see his eyes or his features. I could tell he was looking directly at me, his eyes scoping my invisible, dark face. I searched for his face and rested my hand on his left cheek. My long, lean fingers scanned and ran through his hair, disheveling his soft hair slowly.

"When's the last time you've been told that someone loves you?"

"It's been a while."

"Well now it hasn't." He kissed the bare skin between my eyebrows.

"I love you, Adalynne." My heart thumped and pounded in my chest and there was a pang in my stomach.

"I love you, too."

***

I couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter as Baylor kept making hilarious faces while I was shaving his lower face. He'd keep moving and squirming just to irritate me as he thought it was comedic.

"Baylor, stop!" I yelled while giggling. I held him by his sides to stiffen his posture. Currently, my legs were dangling off of his bathroom counter while his body rested between my legs. His eyes went cross-eyed and his lips were pursed, making me laugh as the razor was scraped by his very pink lips.

The shaving cream was scraped off of his face as the stub was removed by the five-bladed razor.

He squirmed again. "I'm 'bout to kill you," I warned, arching an eyebrow to seem serious and angry.

"Okay, I'll stop," he responded, leaning into my body closer. His arms encircled my body as he leaned on me for support. I slid the razor gently over his stubby mouth and chin.

"I wonder what you look like with a mustache," I pondered over the thought of trying to picture him with a mustache. I concentrated on my movements to make sure I wouldn't cut him. I slowed down the process and glanced at him. His eyes widened into soccer balls.

"I'm not growing a mustache if that's what you're asking me to do," he replied. I smiled and placed my hand on the back of his neck to bring his face closer so I could reach him.

"Why not?" I falsely frowned.

He breathed, inhaling and exhaling. "I'll grow one with you," I mumbled, making him laugh. I accidentally cut him, making him touch the visible blood barely pouring from the petite cut.

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