Part 14 (1/2)
”You were young.”
”That doesn't remove my guilt.”
”I suppose it wouldn't.”
I turn around and stare directly in her eyes. ”I've been through years of therapy. I've tried to forget the guilt and abandonment feeling Carly left me with. I've faced it a zillion times. I don't want to give you false hope, Paige. This is the first time I want to heal and be real, but I'm positive I'll f.u.c.k this up.” Her palms stay planted on my cheeks and I love the fact she still looks at me like a rock star-her rock star.
”What do you need from me?” The question is so simple, yet so complicated.
”I need patience.”
”You have it.” She relaxes against me, crossing her legs. ”I have my own problems, Rob. So, all I ask is the same from you.” She tosses a look at me over her shoulder and I inch closer, wrapping my arms around her.
”New ground for both of us then?” She never rushed me, so I'm not about to rush her to reveal anything she's not ready to.
”Yeah.” She seems a little distant and I wonder what haunts her. ”Maybe we should keep this between us for a while.”
I'm thrown back by her request. I was going to suggest it myself, but didn't want to come off like I wanted to hide her from anyone.
”Sure.” I shrug, showing indifference.
I WIGGLE OUT of Rob's hold, and slide from his bed. He's so peaceful with that just f.u.c.ked hair that I had in fistfuls most of the night. I had a sense he'd be good in bed, but he exceeded my imagination. Even his demanding talk spurred arousal out of me. I move across the room thief-style, s.n.a.t.c.hing my clothes from the floor.
Once I reach the door, I allow myself one last glimpse of him. My heart constricts thinking of the horror he's experienced. Inching the door open, I peer down the hall and scurry to my room.
Relieved that I snuck out of his room without being seen, I plop down on my bed, reliving the flashback scenes of Rob and I last night. Never in my wildest dreams would I think he'd be so attentive and caring. The sweet kisses and the gentle caressing. None of it jives with his outlandish personality of evil. It's like he's an angel trapped in Satan's body. For some reason I've been the chosen one to heal him. I have to admit; I'm slowly becoming addicted to freeing the angelic creature from the depths of the dark tunnel.
After my shower, I grab my messenger bag, and glance at my phone. s.h.i.+t, only twenty minutes until cla.s.s. My body fights my light jog down the steps, exiting through the kitchen. My chucks screech on the linoleum floor when I spot Chrissy at the kitchen table. ”What's up?” I break our distance fast, taking the seat next to her.
She picks up her head and her anguish isn't missed from her bloodshot eyes and trembling lip. ”The weekend was horrible, just horrible.” Her head thumps on the table and she lays there.
”What happened?” I wrap my arm around her shoulders, glancing at the clock on the microwave to see I'm down to fifteen minutes before my cla.s.s starts.
”We got married,” she mumbles through the pile of hair covering her face.
”That's great.” I tuck her blonde strands behind her ear and a small smile graces her lips.
”Oh, Paige. Our hotel room got broken into while we were at the pool. All of our stuff got stolen. Dex had to call his mom to pay our bill. We came right home.” She swipes the lonely tears streaking down her face.
”Where did you guys go?”
”Niagara Falls. We didn't want a big wedding. Dex surprised me, said he couldn't wait any longer for me to be his wife.” She smiles big and I wonder if she's conjuring up their special day from her memory.
”Who would think a guy nicknamed Hulk would have such a heart of gold?” She laughs and it's warming to bring that out of her.
”I know, but I would have wished for a better wedding night than stale coffee at a police station and driving six hours back home. Dex is beyond upset that his romantic gesture turned into a nightmare.” She ventures to the counter and pours herself a cup of coffee. At this point, I'm debating chalking up my cla.s.s and talking Chrissy down.
”Just think, Chrissy. You're Mrs. Dexter Hanson.” I clap my hands and smile wide to her.
”I know.” Her cheeks begin to flush. ”I'm beyond happy about that fact. It's just, I wish the start of our life together would have been different.” She leans against the counter, slowly bringing the mug to her lips.
”Who gives a flying f.u.c.k? Nothing has come easy to us, doesn't change a thing.” Dex strolls into the room, winks my way before stalking right up to his now wife. Grabbing the coffee cup from her hands, he places it back on the counter and sweeps her into his arms. Chrissy yelps. ”Good morning, Paige. Excuse us. My wife left my bed way too early this morning and I must punish her.” With nothing else said, he carries her out of the room and I admire the view of a man so in love.
I grab a to-go cup and begin pouring coffee when two arms wrap around my waist. ”I agree with Dex, minus the whole wife thing,” Rob coos in my ear, kissing my skin right under my ear.
b.u.t.terflies flutter to life in my stomach and I close my eyes to calm them back down. My weakness for this man is getting way too out of control.
”Sorry, I have cla.s.s.” I finish pouring my coffee, driving back the enticement of ditching Economics. ”Maybe-”
His hands grip my hips and swing me around. ”Nope. You're going. What's your schedule?” he asks and I pray he's asking for one reason. ”I'll meet you when you're done.” My stomach flips with excitement that he'll be my incentive for attending cla.s.s when I'd much rather stay in bed with him all day.
”Two o'clock at Beacon Hall.” He checks over his shoulder, before pinning me with his hips against the counter.
”I'll be counting the hours.” He bends down and his lips meet mine. Never have I been kissed and felt so cherished before. His tongue slowly licks to part mine and I sway into his body as our tongues slide back and forth with one another.
When he breaks away, I grip the counter and hold myself as he chuckles. ”Me, too.” He backs away and I miss the heat from him immediately.
”Don't be late.” He smacks my a.s.s and I jump forward from surprise.
I stop at the door and commit him to memory. Pajama pants are hanging low on his hips. His bare chest and his fresh tattoo are on full display. A rush of excitement zings through my veins. He's drop-dead gorgeous and I just spent the night with him. Hiding a squeal of unbelievable thrill, I exit through the door.
BY THE TIME I'm leaving my last cla.s.s, my mind is numb. There's no way I can process one more theory, formula, or equation. Since Rob texted me around noon, asking me to hit a movie with him after cla.s.s, my feet are moving a little faster to the doors.
I weave by a few girls gossiping about some hook-up to reach the outside and hopefully my new, well, what is Rob exactly? I ponder the question in my head. We were roommates, then friends, but I have no clue if we're exclusive. When I shove open the doors to the sun s.h.i.+ning down, my mood lifts immediately and all the worries about what Rob and I are, evaporates.
I move to the side of the doors, basking in the sun. As my skin soaks in the Vitamin D, I wait for Rob to meet me. Just as my eyes begin to droop from the warmth, I hear my name.
”Very good feedback today, Miss Kensington,” Professor Bridges, my Economics professor, compliments as he breezes past me.
My head snaps down and I give a polite smile. ”Thank you, Professor.” He startles me because Professor Bridges isn't known to compliment a student. Persuading to think through negativity is his usual course of teaching.
He nods and my eyes search for Rob. Then my polite grin widens when I see him strutting up the stairs. His hair is gelled up and he's got a black T-s.h.i.+rt on with some faded-out saying that's supposed to make people laugh. Which they usually do. Paired with his low-slung jeans and converse shoes, he screams rock G.o.d, and from the amount of girls fighting for a second glance, I know I'm not his only admirer.
My stomach somersaults waiting for him to reach me, but he's stopped at the top of the stairs by Professor Bridges. I creep over to them and am surprised by what I hear.
”Mr. Winters, have you returned to Western?”
”No.” Rob shoves his hands in his pockets and his eyes glance back and forth between me and Professor Bridges.
”Oh, I was hoping you had seen the light.”
”I have.” Rob stares up at the sky, smirking back down to him.
”One day, Mr. Winters, you'll find that humor doesn't deflect.” He slides by Rob and I'm surprised Rob doesn't shoot back with a sarcastic comment. It's not his style to not have the last word.
As though the confrontation didn't just happen, Rob comes up to me, his arm sliding behind my back, as he kisses my neck. ”I missed you.”
”How do you know Professor Bridges?”
His lips leave my skin, but his hand remains on the small of my back. ”He's the reason I dropped out.”