How to Fall in Love (83 page)

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Authors: Bella Jewel

Tags: #Anthologies, #Contemporary, #Collections & Anthologies, #Flawed Heart, #Romance, #Flawed Love, #Wingman, #Number Thirteen, #Bella Jewel

BOOK: How to Fall in Love
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He pulls his mouth off mine, and stares down at me with an intense, lusty stare. “That was
...incredible
.”

“You’re not mad?” I whisper.

“No one has ever defended me like that before.”

I give him a wobbly smile. “No one deserves to be treated like that.”

He runs his fingertip down the side of my face. “I’m going to finish dinner, but tonight...come to me, Number Thirteen.”

Come to him? My entire body sparks to life.

“To your room?” I whisper.

He nods, and presses his lips against mine again. Then he pulls back and begins to turn away, before looking over his shoulder and murmuring, “It’s time I made you mine.”

Oh.

He gives me one more look, and then he’s gone.

His...I become his.

Do I want to be his?

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
NUMBER THIRTEEN

T
he rest of the night goes well. William spends time with his family, and they leave around 9pm. We’re all sent back to our rooms to shower and prepare for bed. My belly flutters as I think about going to William’s room. I think I know what he wants to do with me, but I’m not so sure I want to give it. I’m nervous, I don’t even know if I’ve ever done that before.

After my shower, I slip out of the room. Number Twelve watches me, her eyes narrowed, but she doesn’t ask where I’m going. I slowly make my way down the halls, swallowing down my nerves. I reach William’s room and I hesitate a long while. Is this wise? Is this what I want? Only a week ago I wanted to escape, now I’m here...feeling things I don’t ever recall feeling before.

I lift my hand and I knock.

A moment later, the door opens and William appears. He’s wearing only his pajama pants again, and my eyes automatically take in his large, muscled form. He reaches out, taking my arm and pulling me into the room. I go, still not sure if I’m ready to put up more of a fight. The minute the door closes, William spins me around and stares down at me.

“You’re frightened, Number Thirteen.”

“Is Emelyn my name?” I ask, shocking myself.

I’ve thought a lot about the name, but I didn’t plan on it being the first question I asked. William tilts his head and stares down at me, then he nods and answers with a soft, “Yes.”

I feel as though someone has balled up a fist and punched me right in the stomach. I can’t remember my life, but the last few weeks I’ve been nothing more than a number. Now, I have an identity. I reach out and steady myself using a table beside me.

“I know it’s hard to take in, but slowly, your memories are going to come back. They’re not going to be pleasant, Emelyn.”

I snap my head up at the sound of my name on his lips. It’s
amazing.

“Say that again,” I whisper.

“Emelyn,” he murmurs, stepping closer.

He reaches up and strokes a piece of my hair from my face. I stare up at him, wanting to ask so much, needing so many answers.

“You said you wanted me tonight, William, but you need to know that there are questions I have...I can’t give myself to you if you can’t trust me enough to answer them.”

His expression doesn’t change, but he does nod.

“There is only so much I can give you, Beauty. You need to decide what question you want answered the most. I will only give you one.”

I study him for a moment, but I know what question I want to know the most. I need to know it to understand William, or at least make a little more sense of what’s happening here with him, with us.

“I want to know what happened?” I say, pointing to his eye.

He visibly stiffens, but he takes my hand and pulls me to the couch. He pulls me down onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me. I snuggle into him, and I let him take a moment to decide if he wants to give me what I’m asking for.

He does.

“I was a quiet kid, not the usual boisterous type. I didn’t have a backbone, I found it hard to communicate with others. Ben was my best friend, and mostly, he kept me out of trouble. My father adored Ben, he was the son he always wanted. I was just the...
freak.
I was too quiet, too gentle, too easy to push around.

Hearing him use that awful word has me flinching. I called him a freak. Guilt swarms my chest, knowing what that must have done to him, and how much it must have hurt.

“My momma was soft, too gentle. She babied me. She didn’t stop me from being a weak, broken child. My father worked away a lot, but when he was home, he spent all his time with Ben. When Ben decided he wanted better schooling, my father sent him to this amazing, expensive boarding school. He left me behind. For a long while it was just me and Momma, my father was rarely home.”

He stops for a second, and entwines his fingers in mine. I won’t push him on this, he can tell me as much as or as little as he needs.

“I suddenly became her protector,” his voice sounds strained as he continues.  “She cried so much. I was all she had. I didn’t burden her with my problems, she could barely deal with her own. So I didn’t tell her I was getting bullied at school. She made me go every day, and I did so graciously. Once again, I didn’t want to burden her anymore than I already was. The bullying started off quite mild. Head flushing, shoving into lockers, that kind of thing. But there was a boy, Marcel, who took great pleasure in watching me suffer. It got to a point where I almost became his obsession.”

Bullies did this to him? They hurt him like that? My hand squeezes his, and my stomach coils.

“One day I was late for school, Momma had a difficult morning, and I didn’t want to go. She made me, telling me I had to go and learn. I did as she asked, but I backtracked, going a different way so I could get there quicker. Marcel and his group of friends cornered me in an Alley just at the back of the school. He was telling me his girlfriend found my eyes beautiful, and that seemed to really bother him. He told me no one was beautiful to his girlfriend except him.”

I swallow the pain rising in my throat, and manage to keep myself from crying.

“I didn’t even know his girlfriend,” he laughs bitterly. “I didn’t know what he was talking about. I don’t even know why he chose me to bully. I knew something bad was going to happen, I felt it. When they tackled me to the ground, I can’t explain the confusion and fear I felt. They pinned me down, his friends holding my arms and legs while another held my head down.”

I think I’m going to be sick, but I manage to keep myself calm enough to keep listening. My hands are trembling, and I feel him squeeze one. I don’t know why he’s comforting me.
He
should be the one getting comfort.

“They had stolen hydrochloric acid from the science lab at school. They held my eye open and poured it in. I can’t even begin to explain the pain I felt. I couldn’t even wipe it away, my hands were pinned. I know I was screaming, but I didn’t hear it. It ran down the side of my face, burning all the skin there too. They ran off and left me there, and I was sure for a moment that I would die. The people that lived across the road from the alley heard me screaming and got help. I was never the same, it broke something inside of me.”

I’m crying now, nothing can stop the tears from cascading down my cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. It’s all I can manage. What more can you say to someone who has had something so utterly cowardly done to them? I can’t bring his eye back, nor can I change that it happened. Sorry is all I have, yet even then, it’s just not enough.

“I became a monster that day, but not in the way people would think. I didn’t become cruel or unforgiving, I became
disfigured
. People stared at me, they pointed, they taunted. People are cruel to those who are different. I could have become a heartless, cold person, shutting of my emotions and turning into an unrelenting bastard, but it wasn’t who I am. Instead, I became obsessed with teaching. If Marcels parents had have taught him properly, he might have never been so cruel. He had never learned his lesson; he was never punished for his crime. He was a bad person, and he was allowed to get away with it.”

“Is this why you’ve got us?” I dare to ask.

He looks down at me with a soft expression. “That’s more than one question, and it’s not something I’m willing to speak about right now.”

Even though he’s speaking to me kindly, he’s also being very firm. I think about tonight, and how his father treated him, and I think about how his life must have been growing up: the taunting, the abusive words. It couldn’t have been easy.

“William?” I say in a small, meek voice.

“Yes?”

“Your dad...was he always like that?”

I’m sure he won’t answer me because I know what he’s given me tonight is more than he’s probably even given anyone. I don’t want to push it, but at the same time I just can’t shove my curiosity down.

“For as long as I can remember.”

“Why?”

It makes no sense to me. Why would a father love one son and yet treat the other with such hatred? They’re twins, they look the same—hell, they have similar behaviors. How could someone who is meant to love you be so cruel?

“I can’t answer that, Beauty, because I don’t know. When I was growing up, it made no sense to me. Ben and I were exactly the same in so many ways, yet he only saw him. He never saw me. He never
wanted
to.”

We’re silent a moment before I murmur, “I see you, William.”

He flinches, and then he uncurls me off his lap and stands. He makes his way over to his desk and shuffles a bit; soon a soft, slow song comes on, filling the room with its beautiful melody. He turns around and walks over to me with an outstretched hand. I hesitate. If I take this, if I let him in, that’s it for me. I already know I won’t be able to turn back. I lift my gaze to his, and I see him staring at me with an intensity I’ve never experienced.

It’s in that moment I just see him for what he is: a jagged piece of glass that can never be glued back into its spot because it’s not perfect. It has rough edges, even though the middle is still stunning.

I’m a piece of jagged glass, too. Maybe together we can find a way to fit.

I reach up and I take his hand. He pulls me slowly to my feet before wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me against his body. I feel so tiny compared to him. His powerful form surrounds me, but it’s in the most amazing way. Like we were made for each other, two people molded to fit. He slides a hand down my arm, wrapping his fingers around mine, and then we’re dancing. And it’s perfect, and brilliant, and everything I ever imagined dancing should be.

We sway slowly, just staring at each other. His lips are slightly parted, and his blue gaze is intense, filled with something so deep it has me questioning everything I’ve believed in the past month. He’s changing everything I am, and it’s one of those changes that can’t be undone. Warmth fills my body, and I find my mind trailing off into thoughts that involve absolutely
no
dancing.

Taking a leap of faith I never knew I had inside me, I lean up, and I press my lips to his. He sucks in a breath of air, but he’s soon responding, letting go of my hand and tangling his fingers into my hair. He deepens the kiss until my body is falling against his, limp and needy. He reaches down, cupping my bottom. His big fingers curl into my soft flesh and he pulls me harder against him. I whimper, and my fingers clutch his shirt.

Slowly he moves us until we’re leaning against his bed. With one swift shove we’re both going down. I hit the soft mattress first, and he stops himself from falling onto me by dropping a hand down beside my head. I stare at his muscles, relishing in how defined they are. He’s so...
strong
. His lips leave mine, and they travel down my neck. I quiver, and let my head fall back, relishing in the sensations burning through my body.

“William?” I whisper, arching against him.

He makes a rumbling sound against my neck to let me know he’s heard me.

“Am I...I mean...have I done this before?”

He stiffens, and lifts himself off me. He stares down at me, his face a mask of confusion, doubt, and arousal.

“I don’t know,” he answers, his voice gravelly.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “I just...I wanted to know.”

I reach up, caressing his jaw. He stares down at my lips, and then he murmurs, “Are you sure about this? I won’t deny what I want, but I won’t force myself upon anyone.”

“I’m sure,” I say, feeling my heart pound.

He nods, and then returns to torturing my neck with those sweet, slow kisses. His fingers slide down my sides until he finds my top. Slowly, he slips them up underneath it, trailing them lightly over my skin as he moves up towards my breasts. My body breaks out in tremors, and I push myself harder into him, letting him know just how much I want this.

His fingers find my nipples, and immediately they harden beneath his touch. He growls, I whimper, and then he begins rolling them around in his fingers. I close my eyes, feeling my breathing beginning to deepen as little bolts of pleasure shoot right down to my groin. William leans down, and I can feel his hot breath against the swollen mounds of my breast right before his tongue snakes out and flicks the hard, little buds that he’s been teasing for the past five minutes.

“Oh, William,” I gasp.

He makes an appreciative sound in his throat, and continues his assault, sucking and licking until I’m squirming and rasping his name. His hands have moved to my panties, and slipped beneath them. I already know how nice his fingers can make me feel, but when he tears his mouth from my breast and begins sliding down my body, taking my panties with him, I feel everything tense up. Why is he going down there?

He takes hold of my knees, gently spreading my legs apart. My cheeks heat at the thought that he’s looking at me
there.
He growls something in his other language, before lowering his head. I buck my hips when his mouth closes over my clit. Oh. God. He sucks it deep, flicking his tongue over it firmly and with a speed I never imagined a tongue could go.

“Oh,” I cry out. “Oh my God.”

He sucks harder, drawing little screams of delight from my body. I can feel a fire burning in my belly, swirling lower, warming everything in its path. Slowly, like a form of torture, that fire hits the right spot and I erupt. Pleasure roars through my body and I feel myself lift off the bed, William’s fingers firmly in on my hips, my screams echoing in the room.

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