First Love: A Superbundle Boxed Set of Seven New Adult Romances (155 page)

“Were we really just friends?” His husky whisper sends my heart racing.

“No. I tried to tell myself so, and I honestly believed it at the time. Nick went ballistic. He smashed my computer and my phone, and he forbade me to talk to you again. He got me a new phone on his cell plan, and he monitored what sites I visited on his computer.”

“Why didn’t you run then? You could have gone back to your mom’s.”

His reaction is exactly what mine would have been if I were in his shoes. I used to think girls who stayed with assholes like Nick were partially to blame because they didn’t leave. It was only when I was that girl that I understood how crippling fear can be and just how hard it is to ask for help or admit the truth. “Because I felt guilty, for one thing. I should have told you about him and him about you, and if I had, it wouldn’t have happened. I couldn’t admit to my mom what he did; she’d warned me I was moving in with him too soon as it was.”

“Was that the worst of it?”

I wish. And I can tell by Arion’s voice he knows it isn’t but he wishes it was, too. “No. The longer I stayed there, the more of my life he controlled, and the more of me he took, whether I wanted to give it or not. It got to the point where I’d dropped out of classes, lost my job at the cafe because half the time he wouldn’t let me out of the house to go to work, and I’d pretty much cut off all my friends. I’d become completely dependent on him.”
 

Anger is a thin blade, cutting all softness away from his words. “I’m trying to understand—I really am—but if you had just told me, hell I would have come and gotten you.”

“I know, but I was scared. And embarrassed. I’d gotten myself into it, and it was up to me to get out of it. He told me if I left he’d kill me, and I believed him. Still do.” There was a whole lot more to that threat, but it isn’t something I can tell Arion. Not right now. Hopefully what I’ve told him is enough.

Arion’s arms disappear from around me, and the bed shifts as he rolls away. His back is to mine, but the inches between us have as much impact as the Grand Canyon and his question may keep us separated forever. “Did you sleep with him?”

The film reel is back, and I can almost smell Nick’s sweat as he towers over me, thrusting into me. Another tear slips out the corner of my eye as a strangled cry shivers from my throat.

The distance between us is gone in a heartbeat, and before I know it, he’s rolled over and I’ve done the same. He crushes me protectively against him as I sob, burying my face against Arion’s chest, letting his now-familiar musk encompass me. Where Nick always smelled sickeningly sweet and a bit salty, Arion smells like Old Spice and clean cotton.

“Did he force you?” Arion leans back a bit, and his hand cups my chin, keeping my watery eyes on his.
 

I take a deep breath, trying to keep myself from pulling away or falling into the hopeless pit of memories. “No.”

I swear Arion’s heart stills for a moment before resuming its rhythmic thudding beneath my hand. “Don’t lie to me, please. Not about anything, but sure as shit not about this.”

How am I supposed to find the words to tell him what I haven’t been brave enough to tell anyone? I don’t even like to admit it to myself. “He didn’t rape me. He just…he just made it more convenient and pleasant to say yes than no. But I did say ‘yes’.”

Arion’s voice booms, cracking around me like thunder. “Yes under duress is
not
the same thing as yes.”

I don’t want to hear this. It’s too hard to think about it…to admit it. These aren’t truths I’m ready for; I need to stay wrapped up in the familiarity of my excuses and lies.
No, I’m fine. Yes, he’s good to me. Things are great.
The lies became my slogan, my shield. My only hope to keep myself and those I cared about safe. If they ever find out what I know… No one can, not even Arion. Not now, not ever. “Please, Arion. Just let it go.”

“Did he hit you?”

All my resolve is spent, and the dam has burst free. I’m shattered, sobbing against his chest, clutching his cotton shirt between clenched fingers. “Yes. He hit me, and he hurt me, and I was so fucking scared! I missed you, and I didn’t get to say goodbye, and I knew if I stayed any longer, I’d be dead soon. So I came running to you, because I had nowhere else to go. But I’m not the same. I can’t be, ever again. I’m not your Angel anymore. I’m just Tess. Broken, beaten, and most definitely without wings.”

The words pour out of me like fallen marbles, and no matter how much I might want to pull them back in, they just tumble free, rolling away from me and out of control. Sadness, guilt, and despair consume me. I know I’m no one’s angel, because if I had wings, I’d fly away and wouldn’t stop until I eventually soared above the pain.

Seventeen

Arion

The caveman in me wants to tuck Angel into my bed, kiss her thoroughly, then lock the door behind me as I go track the motherfucker who hurt her down and break every bone in his body. The rest of me wants the same damn thing, but at least its brain has evolved past that point, and I know that won’t do either of us any good. She needs me to be here, with her, so that’s where I’ll be.

“You’ll always be my Angel. If I have to, I’ll build you new wings.”

She’s so tired it literally wounds me. I can see exhaustion swallowing her whole, and I know it’s because I put her through talking about it. “If only it were that easy,” she sighs. “I think maybe you should keep calling me Angel, anyway. Everyone else knows me as Tess, so it might make me harder to find.”

“I won’t let him get to you, baby. I promise. I told you:
 
I take care of what’s mine.” And whether she accepts it or not, Angel is
mine.

The faintest smile dances at the corner of her mouth, just enough that I know she hears me as her eyes drift closed. “Does that mean you’re going to keep calling me Arion?”

“Probably. I know logically that your name is Axel, but I just can’t stop thinking of you as Arion. It’s what I called you for so long.”

“No worries. I think it’s kinda hot when you call me that, especially since you’re the only one who does.”

Her hair is damp from her tears, and it’s sticking to her face. I do my best to brush it aside as I watch her settle into sleep. I don’t even know where to begin processing everything she told me tonight.
 
I mean, of course I’m angry. Livid even. No matter what she calls it, as far as I’m concerned, he raped her. I would have wanted to kill him for hitting her, but this is just—I have to push the thoughts away because I can’t give in to the anger while letting her sleep cradled in my arms.

At least now I know why she disappeared. She didn’t just walk away without a word because she wanted to. She didn’t have a choice. I hate that her choices were taken from her, but it’s a comfort to know she didn’t just toss me aside.

I can’t even be that angry about her not telling me about Nick when they started dating. I wouldn’t have taken it well, and I’m trying to tell myself she kept it from me because she cared, because she knew me so well, and because I mattered.

A layer of guilt waits right below the surface. I have no idea which of my texts he saw—I sent her so many, and most of them could have been damning. Just knowing it was a text from me that sent him over the edge makes me feel like I’m partially responsible for what she endured. Somehow, I’ll make it up to her.
 

The anger is eating at me, and I clench my fingers into a fist. Angel stirs in my arms, and I know if I lay here I’m going to wake her up.

Moving as slowly as possible, I slide out from beneath her and off the bed. My weight set in the corner is calling to me, and it’s the only thing I can think of to work off this anger. Well, except sex, but I’m fairly certain she isn’t ready for that yet.

All the times she’s shut me down make more sense now, and I think we’re going to have a long road ahead. Sometimes she seems to cope fine, and I can touch her with no problems. The rest of the time she just falls apart.
 

I can’t help but worry that she’s still going to try to leave. She was so afraid that Nick would find her here because of what I said in vent. Of course, if she’d told me what the deal was, I would have known what not to say, but that’s water under the bridge. Still, I have no intention of going to sleep tonight, because I can’t stand the thought of waking up to find her gone.

After I punish myself on the weights for an hour, I take a two-minute shower then slide back into bed beside her, tucking the blankets around us. Her hair has dried, and it spills across her face and down across the nape of her neck. I know I shouldn’t be thinking about sex right now, but I can’t help thinking how much I’d like to kiss the path of that hair. There are a few flushes of color decorating her cheeks, and I suspect they’re a remnant from her crying. It’s fast becoming my personal mission to take all her tears away and to make sure she never has reason to cry again.
 

I let my fingers lightly trail along the length of her arms, across the back and her neck and down her spine. She shivers but doesn’t wake, and I continue my explorations as she lets out a soft sigh. I’m very careful to keep my hands as light as possible—she needs her sleep—but I just can’t help touching her. It takes all my willpower to keep my hands to the safe zones—nowhere that a bathing suit would cover—but it feels like the right choice. Given what she’s been through, I’m just grateful for the chance to touch her at all, and I won’t push it until she tells me to. Never again do I want her to feel like she doesn’t have a choice.

But while she has a choice, I don’t. I’ve already fallen for her, and there’s no turning back.

Eighteen

Angel

When I wake up, Arion is draped around me. He’s leaning back against his headboard in nothing but boxers. My leg is laying over one of his, and his other ankle crosses mine. His right arm is cupped behind me, cradling me against his chest, while the fingers on his other hand are twined with mine in his lap.
 

All I’d have to do would be shift our hands over a few inches, and I have no doubt I’d feel him. I’d be lying if I said it was a little tempting. Little doesn’t even begin to cover it. The temptation or
it.
The way his boxers rise makes that abundantly clear.

I press against him as I shift, trying to untangle myself a bit, and he clutches me to him. His bed creaks beneath us, tattling on my attempts to free myself.

“I’m awake, I’m awake. Don’t go,” he mumbles as his eyes flutter. Needy fingers tighten around mine, begging me to stay. A sharp pang berates my heart. Arion is so incredibly genuine and sweet that I’m left not knowing quite how to respond.

“Have you been up all night?” Heat creeps into my cheeks as I realize there are multiple ways for him to interpret my question. “Awake?”

Arion yawns. “I was afraid you might leave,” he says unabashedly, leaving me even more wonderstruck. I always know exactly what he wants: me. For someone who I know predominately through a game, there is a distinct lack of games between us in person. At least from him.
 

“I wouldn’t go without saying goodbye. Not again.” I drop my eyes away from his face, trying to shield my soul, but that leaves me staring at the rising tent beside our hands.

His hand splays against my back, and a tiny bit of nervousness constricts in my throat. Arion is dancing the line between protective and possessive and sweet and scary, and I’m torn between waltzing with him or relegating myself to wallflower status. “You should sleep; don’t you have to fill in at the bar tonight?”

“Promise you won’t go anywhere?” His words are colored by sleep, and I’m struck by how innocent and sincere he looks. His dark charcoal headboard and satin-like sheets provide the perfect backdrop to let the sculpted lines of his body and the peace of his face paint my heart with a brief moment of contentment. I don’t know what tomorrow is going to bring or how things are going to work out, but for right now, for this moment, I know I’m lucky to be here with Arion and I don’t want to be anywhere else.

“Well, I won’t leave your apartment, how’s that?” I offer up a nugget of compromise. I’m going to need to make a beeline for his bathroom soon. Then I’ve got to set up that new Keurig he bought.
 

“I’d rather you didn’t leave the bed, but it will do for now I suppose.” He shimmies his waist until he’s lying on his back, no longer against the headboard.
 

My insides twist. God that was sexy. Screw the bathroom. I snuggle back beside him, letting sleep carry me away a little longer.
 

When I wake up again, Arion is still asleep and my bladder is more insistent, so I crawl out of bed. The bed dips as he rolls to his side, but he doesn’t wake up. I flip the light on in his closet where we stashed my bags of clothes and quickly pull out a pair of gym pants and a plain white tank top. I’m still feeling emotionally raw and drained from the night before, so cozy and no-fuss is going to be my plan for the day.
 

I don’t even bother to brush my hair—without a good conditioning it will be hopeless, and we forgot to buy some while we were out. Once I’ve twisted my tangles into some semblance of a bun, I head for the bathroom. Half my hair is already escaping my hair tie, but I can’t bring myself to care.

As wrecked as I feel from the rollercoaster of emotions the night before, I have to admit there’s a certain level of peace and acceptance that’s come with having someone else know at least a few of my secrets. I’m no longer quite so isolated and alone with the knowledge, and sharing it was surprisingly freeing.
 

I’m indulging in my third cup when I hear Arion moving around in his bedroom. I have to admit, I am starting to see what all the fuss is over K-cups. They are little pint-sized shots of awesome in coffee-flavored packaging. Arion stumbles out his door, and his entire demeanor brightens the moment he sees me. “You’re still here.”

“I couldn’t leave the lure of coffee and a shiny new button.” I press said button, and the Keurig starts to make me another cup.