Playing With Fire || d.h

51. Secrets

Your POV

Dan and I have spent the last three hours talking to each other. We had planned on going to bed, but that ended up never happening. We each lie on our sides, facing each other. Dan runs his hands through my hair, sending shivers down my spine. His hand lingers on my cheek, giving me a soft smile.

"Why are you so cuteee?" He emphasizes the last word as if I'm a puppy, making me give a hearty laugh.

"Why are you so clicheee?" I mock him, kissing him on the nose.

"Hey, most cliche things are cliche for a reason," he says defensively, smiling cheekily.

"Daniel, you're a fucking loser," I laugh, and he pouts jokingly. "Don't worry, I'm a loser, too. We're a perfect pair of losers."

"You're fucking perfect," Dan says, looking into my eyes, and I can't help but laugh at the serious expression on his face. "What? It's true."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," I reply. "You're a twenty six year old dating someone who looks like a twelve year old."

He scoffs. "You do not look like a twelve year old, you can trust me on that. And why does it matter if I'm twenty six years old?" I only shrug, looking down at my hands. Truth is, I don't even know why that came out, but the more I think about it, the more I realize how self conscious I am about my age compared to them. Dodie's the one closest to my age, and she's four years older than me. Phil's a full twelve years older than me. I know age isn't that big a deal, and it's never put much thought into it before I met Dan, but I still worry if it makes them think I'm some sort of kid in any way.

Dan sits up on his elbows, his brow furrowing together. "You're not actually concerned about our age difference, are you?" He asks, sounding somewhat hurt.

I can't look up at him, feeling overwhelmingly shameful. "I mean, if we had met only two years ago, this would be illegal," I whisper, finally giving a voice to some of the concerns that have been nagging at the back of my mind for ages now.

"Yeah, but it's not two years ago anymore," he counters. "And anyway, age has nothing to do with maturity. I mean, look at Phil. He's thirty one and is just as childish as us, if not more."

"I know age doesn't have to do with maturity. That's not what I'm worried about. I'm worried about...you guys thinking I'm young, or immature, or just thinking of me as your pet."

"Have any of us ever done anything to make you feel that way?" He asks. "Have I done anything to make you feel that way?"

"No, but...I dunno, it's kinda stupid, I guess."

"C'mon, love. It's not stupid if it's upsetting you this much. However, you have nothing to worry about." He laughs, then adds, "Sometimes I feel inferior to your astounding intelligence."

I snort. "You have nothing to feel inferior to. But thanks."

He starts talking, kissing me in between each word. "I...think...I...love...you..." he ends with a slow, somewhat shy kiss that makes my heart flutter.

Wait a second. Did he just say he loved me?

I pull away, looking him in the eyes, my eyebrows narrowing. "Did you just say you loved me?" I ask in a small voice.

He shrugs. "I didn't think you'd be as surprised. I mean, I thought I made it pretty obvious, even without saying it."

"Yeah, but..." My sentence drifts off, and I only shrug my shoulders, realizing he's right. "Yeah, I think I love you, too," I say.