Never Tear Us Apart (Never Tear Us Apart #1)

by Monica Murphy

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s a-a bracelet.” I fixed it last night, determined to do something on my own, to prove I can take care of myself. And I did take care of it. It might’ve been small, but hey, it’s something.

  And fixing that bracelet felt good, no matter how small the accomplishment might be. Made me feel like a grown-up when I hardly ever feel that way.

  The only other person who makes me feel like an adult is the very man I’m sitting next to, who’s got an odd expression on his face as he studies my bracelet.

  “Who gave it to you?” he asks, his voice quiet. So quiet I almost don’t hear him, what with the music playing down below, the clatter of the roller coaster as it roars nearby.

  “A boy I used to know,” I admit, sinking my teeth into my lower lip. “He was a—friend.”

  Ethan frowns, toying with the charm with his index finger. “A friend?”

  My heart starts to race. I don’t know why. His voice sounds strange. The expression on his face is dark. There’s no other word to describe it. He’s reacting to my bracelet in such a weird way and I don’t know why.

  “He helped me, saved me.” I wave my hand, the bracelet sliding down my arm. “It’s complicated.”

  His gaze meets mine, his fingers still circling my wrist. “It happened a long time ago.” He talks as if he knows who gave it to me and why.

  I nod, a shuddery sigh escaping me when his thumb sweeps across the inside of my wrist. “It helps me when I feel lost.”

  “A guardian angel.” His voice is flat and he fingers the charm again, pressing the flat backside of it, the metal cool against my skin. “Does it watch over you?”

  “Always,” I whisper at the exact moment he releases his hold on the charm . . .

  And it detaches from the silver circular bracelet, falling to the ground.

  “Oh!” I lean over the bar, causing the cart to sway, and Ethan clamps my shoulder with his hand, trying to pull me back. “It fell off!”

  “What did?”

  “The charm!” I turn to look at him, trying to swallow past the panic clawing up my throat. “I can’t lose it, Ethan. I just . . . I can’t.”

  He glances down and scans the ground below. “Maybe we could find it once we get off this thing.”

  “How?” I ask incredulously, my gaze following his. We’d just flown over a cluster of concession stands. For all we know the charm could’ve landed on one of the roofs, and there’s no way we’d find it if that happened. “That charm is so small. It could be anywhere.”

  “We’ll find it,” he says firmly, his unwavering gaze meeting mine. His jaw is tight, his eyes incredibly dark and oh so serious. “I promise.”

  His words, the sincerity in his voice, the way he’s looking at me, reminds me of another promise made to me years ago. I’m taken aback at the similarities and I stare at Ethan for a long time, searching for a glimpse of Will in his features.

  No. I shake my head. I’m being ridiculous. Crazy. Will Monroe is gone. Maybe I’m so drawn to Ethan because of the similarities they share. Who knows how Will turned out, anyway? Circumstances weren’t on his side. For all I know he’s locked up in prison somewhere, following in his father’s footsteps.

  My heart breaks just thinking that.

  The moment we disembark from the Sky Gliders, Ethan takes off and I follow after him, glancing up at the gloomy sky in irritation when it starts to rain. The weather doesn’t deter Ethan, though. People scatter as the rainfall picks up in intensity, most of them going for shelter, but Ethan keeps walking, pushing himself into a slow jog as he heads toward the spot where we think the charm fell from my bracelet.

  I try to hold back the overwhelming disappointment and sadness that threatens, but it’s so hard. I don’t know how we’re going to find it. I’m not sure exactly where it fell. It could be anywhere.

  I’m fairly certain it’s lost forever but I don’t want to discourage Ethan from looking for it, either. That he wants to help means more to me than he’ll ever know.

  “Ethan.” I call his name but he ignores me, stopping in the spot where the charm might have fallen. He starts looking, pulling his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and turning the flashlight on so he can see better. I watch helplessly as he searches everywhere, around the buildings, along the sidewalk, the light from his phone creating a silvery glow that seems to highlight the raindrops falling from up above and make them sparkle.

  “Help me, Katie,” he says and I leap into action, feeling like an idiot for not doing so sooner. We scan the entire area, at one point Ethan falling to his hands and knees, grimacing as he looks through the discarded trash that lines the gutter of the sidewalk. I imagine all the many feet that have passed over the very spot where he’s kneeling through the years.

  I can’t believe he’s doing this for me.

  “There’s no point,” I tell him when he finally stands and brushes his hands against the front of his jeans. I blink away the rain dotting my face, obscuring my vision. “It’s gone.” A sob falls from my lips at the last word and I cover my mouth with my hand as I start to cry.

  He approaches me, his expression despondent, his eyes full of so much sadness and worry. All of it for me. “Katie. Baby, don’t cry. We’ll find it, I promise. I’ll do whatever it takes to find that charm for you.”

  “It d-doesn’t m-matter.” My teeth are chattering and I’m having a hard time catching my breath.

  Ethan grabs hold of my upper arms and pulls me in close. Even with the cold rain falling, his clothes drenched, I can still feel the warmth of his body reaching toward me, consoling me. I try my best to absorb it. “It matters to you,” he says, his voice quiet and earnest. “I’m so sorry I lost it.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.” I shake my head, press my lips together. “The charm fell off a few days ago and I thought I fixed it. But I guess I didn’t.” Another sob escapes me and I lean forward, pressing my face against Ethan’s damp hoodie sweatshirt. “I can’t believe I lost it.”

  He strokes my wet hair, his mouth close to my temple as he murmurs, “I’ll find it. I swear to God I’ll . . .”

  His voice drifts and he pulls away, disentangling himself from me. I watch in stunned disbelief as he walks over to a nearby building, a small stand that sells ice cream. A bright red counter lines the front, where they keep napkin holders and cups full of spoons. Ethan reaches out, scoops up something into the palm of his hand, and approaches me, opening his hand to reveal what he’s found.

  My guardian angel charm.

  “Oh my God,” I whisper just before I tackle him. He clenches his fist around the charm when I throw myself at him, my arms wrapped around his neck, my mouth on his as I give him a quick, grateful kiss. “You found it.”

  He smiles, his face wet from the rain, his arms tight around my waist as he pulls me into his embrace. “I promised you.” Another kiss, this one a little longer, a little deeper, and a sigh leaves me when he pulls away. “I’ll never break a promise to you, Katie.”

  His words . . . are another echo of Will. It’s eerie, how they’re suddenly reminding me of each other. I blame it on my thoughts drifting toward Will lately. I’m just superimposing old feelings I had for Will on Ethan. Memories and emotions that are heightened because of what we went through, what Will and I suffered together.

  It’s nothing. The two of them are nothing alike.

  “Thank you.” He kisses me before I can say another word, his lips soft and clinging to mine. I open for him, feel that first sweep of his tongue, and I meet it with my own, my fingers curling around his neck, my lower body pressing into his. I’m in the cold, misty rain, out in the middle of the very amusement park where I was kidnapped, where horrible things happened to me, and it’s okay. I’m creating new memories, ones that wipe away the old.

  And strangely meld two people together, one a boy.

  The other a man.

  She follows me back to my place, her car right behind mine as I
drive slower than usual so I don’t lose her. My mind races the entire drive, my thoughts chaotic as I navigate us through shitty traffic, the rain only making things worse.

  All I want to do is get her back to my place in one piece. Where I then plan on taking her completely apart. Bit by bit, piece by piece, until she’s a trembling, naked, incoherent mess. And the only one who can satisfy her needs is . . .

  Me.

  Seeing her wearing the bracelet I gave her all those years ago tore me up. Knowing that she kept it all this time, hearing her describe who gave it to her—me—shredded my soul. I meant something to her. After all this time believing I was worthless, that Katie hated me and believed I had something to do with her kidnapping, to find out that she considered Will a friend. That she kept the bracelet I gave her and was devastated when she thought she lost it . . .

  I scrub a hand over my face as I pull into my driveway. Fuck. I don’t know how to feel anymore. She deserves the truth. I know that. But I don’t want to ruin what tonight can bring. I need her. I want her. I tell her who I really am, I blow her mind with the truth, and I’m putting everything at risk.

  Everything.

  And I can’t do that. Not tonight. I need one night with her. Just one.

  I’ll tell her the truth soon. Tomorrow maybe.

  I don’t know, but it has to happen. I can’t keep on living like this.

  The rain has let up and I climb out of the car, watching as Katie exits her car and runs toward me. I take her hand and lead her into the quiet, dark house. The blinds and curtains are still drawn, and with the storm coming in, everything’s shrouded in darkness, hushed and still.

  I push her against the door the minute it’s shut, bracing my hands on either side of her head. Though it’s dark, I can still see her and she lifts her head, her wide-eyed gaze meeting mine. “Katie,” I whisper as my head descends and my mouth brushes against hers once, the touch of her lips on mine electrifying me from the inside out.

  A trembling sigh gusts across my lips and I capture it, kissing her again. Then again. She reaches for me, her fingers curling into my damp sweatshirt, her head tilted back, her lips parting beneath mine. I sweep my tongue into her mouth, tangle it with hers, and I reach for her face and cup her cheek, holding her there as I devour her mouth.

  I’m holding everything back and it’s killing me. Fucking slaying me dead. I want her. So bad. My clothes are wet from the rain, heavy and uncomfortable, and when I finally break the kiss I whisper, “We should take our clothes off.”

  Her eyes pop open, wide and full of hesitation. “Wh-what?”

  “They’re wet.” I chuckle. “I don’t mean we get naked.” Yet. “I just think we should get out of these soaked clothes.”

  “But I have nothing to change into,” she protests.

  “I can fix that,” I offer.

  So I do. I hand her an old, soft T-shirt and a button-down flannel, along with a pair of thick socks. None of my sweatpants or shorts would fit her since she’s so slender. I let her change in the bedroom while I use the living room, giving her privacy. I change into dark gray sweats and a long-sleeved white T-shirt, then wait for her on the couch, on edge and wishing she’d just come out already.

  When I hear my bedroom door open I sit up straight, my hands perched on my knees, feeling like I’m poised and ready for flight. She enters the living room, her feet encased in the thick socks I wear only with a certain pair of boots, wearing the T-shirt and the flannel halfway buttoned over the shirt, looking sexy as fuck with her hair piled into a sloppy bun on top of her head, her cheeks flushed a rosy pink.

  Adorably sexy.

  “You okay?” I stand and go to her, feeling incredibly protective toward her. She looks so small wearing my clothes, her unsure expression, her bare legs and scrubbed-clean face reminding me of when she was younger.

  When I first met her.

  Katie smiles, the sight of it like a zing straight to my already shattered heart. “Yes. Much better after getting out of those wet clothes.”

  “Where’d you leave them? We can toss them in the dryer.”

  We go about doing exactly that, acting like a domesticated couple who’ve just come home from a long, hard day. She follows me into the tiny laundry room that’s just off my garage, her clothes in her hands. I open the dryer for her and she throws them in along with my own, and I shut the door, push the button, and hear the dryer roar to life.

  She meets my gaze, a little smile curling her lips. “Now what?”

  Does she really have to ask? Every primal instinct tells me to grab her. Haul her up onto that vibrating dryer and kiss her. Put my hand between her legs and see if she’s wearing any panties—which she can’t be, because I saw them land in the dryer only a few moments ago. She’s bare under my clothes. No bra, no panties, just skin.

  My fingers itch to touch her, stroke her. Figure out what she likes and do it again. And again. Until I have her arching against me and begging for more.

  “What do you want?” I ask, my voice husky, my brain short-circuiting when she reaches out and curls her finger around the drawstring of my sweatpants. Her hand is way too close to my dick, which is already hard and aching.

  “You were my hero today, Ethan,” she whispers as she tugs on the string. I stumble toward her, feeling like a bumbling idiot with her hands on me, her body so close. I press my hand against the top edge of the dryer and lean in, sniffing the floral sweetness of her hair, the heady, rich scent of her skin, a combination of the lotion she must use and her perfume. I want to eat her up.

  Her words remind me of things said to another boy long ago and I close my eyes, slip my other arm around her waist. She’s backed up against the dryer, and I lift her with one arm, her ass perched on the edge for a brief moment before she scoots back.

  “What are you doing?” she asks breathlessly, her hands resting on my shoulders, giving them a brief squeeze.

  “Spread your legs,” I demand, and she does so automatically. I step in between them, my hand still braced on the dryer, fingers brushing against her outer thigh as I readjust my other arm around her waist. “You look good in my clothes, Katie.”

  She blushes and tilts her head down. “You sound rather possessive, Ethan.”

  “I feel possessive.” Leaning in, I press my cheek to hers and close my eyes for a long, quiet moment, breathing her in, absorbing her. “I want you. So damn much. Being apart from you just about killed me.”

  She sighs as she runs her fingers along my shoulders. God, her touch feels good. “I-I want you, too.”

  Triumph surges through me at her admission. “After everything you told me, I think I understand where you’re coming from. And I don’t want to push you. I know you’re scared, but I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

  “I know.” She nods. “I trust you.”

  My heart sinks. I don’t know if I’m worthy of her trust. I want to be. God, how I want to be. But I’ve lied to her for so long and I feel like a total asshole for that. Will she ever forgive me once she finds out the truth?

  I’m willing to take the risk.

  “Will you let me, Katie? Let me touch you?” I move my hand from the warm, rumbling dryer to rest it on her outer thigh. Her skin is smooth, like silk, and I run my fingers down the length of her leg, curve my fingers over her bare knee. “Or do you want me to stop?”

  She shakes her head, her lips parting on a sigh when I smooth my hand back up, my fingers tracing along her inner thigh. “N-no.”

  “You want more of this?” I’m torturing her. Torturing myself. And damn, it feels so good to finally let go, to finally give in to my need for Katie and let her know what she does to me. “More of me?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” She nods, her eyes falling shut when I skim my fingers down the top of her thigh. She’s open and willing and I swear I smell her. Wonder how wet she is for me, if she’s confused and scared or if she really wants this.

  Wants me.

  I kiss her and she reaches up,
her fingertips splayed across my jaw, her lips clinging to mine. Her touch makes my skin tingle and I deepen the kiss, my tongue thrusting, and she slips her other hand beneath the hem of my shirt.

  She’s bold tonight. Not hesitant at all. As if she knows what she wants and she’s going after it.

  Breaking our kiss, I push into her neck and lick her there, feeling the movement of her throat as she gasps, dragging my lips over her delicate skin. Her hand moves from my face to wrap around my nape as she holds me to her. I taste her, nibble on her skin, feel her shiver, and I rest my hands on her hips, holding her still. I want to strip her naked but not yet. Not here while she sits on my fucking dryer in the middle of my laundry room.

  “Ethan.” My name is a breathless plea but I don’t answer her. Continue to lick and suck her skin instead, my hands slipping beneath the hem of my T-shirt that she’s wearing, touching her flat belly. It contracts and flutters beneath my palms and I finally pull away from her neck to stare down at her. “You’ll be—gentle with me, right?”

  I nod, my gaze never wavering from hers. “I’m going to take you to heights you’ve never even dreamed of, Katie,” I solemnly promise.

  She closes her eyes. “Oh God.”

  Those are the last words she utters before I swallow them with my lips, lick them away with my tongue. I remove my hands from beneath the shirt to undo the buttons of the flannel slowly, one by one, my fingers brushing against her unbound breasts as I continue to kiss her. She pushes her chest against my hands, a whimper sounding low in her throat, and a wave of possessiveness hits me so strong I swear my knees grow weak.

  She’s been through so much, has endured too much at such a young age. That she trusts me, is allowing me to touch her like this, kiss her like this, is humbling.

  Nearly brings me to my knees.

  I finish unbuttoning the shirt and practically tear it off of her, throwing it on top of the washer, reaching up to cup her face as I continue to kiss her. I could kiss her like this for hours, her knees bracketing my thighs, one arm wound around my neck, the other hand slipped beneath my shirt and skimming my side. Her mouth open, her tongue busy, everything about her sexy and warm and every inch of her belongs to me.