“Wyatt says secrets aren’t nice.” Hypocrite.
“Not all secrets are nice,” Wyatt speaks up. This is one of those ‘read my mind’ moments. “Secrets about bad things aren’t nice. You have to always tell Pagan or me about those secrets. Other ones, like the one that Pagan is asking you to keep, are okay. But only if I say so.”
I’m going to have to ask what a bad thing is later because she nods like she understands.
“Do you understand, Ava?” Wyatt asks with a pointed look.
“Fine. Whatever. As long as this conversation is over with I’ll agree to anything.”
“Good. Clear the table then take a shower.”
“Why do I have to do everything?”
“I didn’t ask you to clean the entire downstairs but I will. Go.” Wyatt uses a hard, no-nonsense tone. It’s admirable and sad and a little bit hot all at the same time.
There’s a lot of banging and grumbling and stomping as Ava does as Wyatt asked. Then she’s stomping up the stairs and slamming doors. After the third slam, it’s silent.
“I need to give that one a bath.” Wyatt points at Adele, who looks like she’s barely hanging on to consciousness. “You’ll be okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
He leans closer to me and whispers, “My mother hasn’t been home in a few days. It means she can come back any second. I don’t want you alone with her. You should go up to my room.”
“I’m not scared of her.”
“I didn’t say you were. But after what happened yesterday, I’d say you’ve had your fill of bitchy mothers.”
“Fair enough. Go put her to bed. I’ll be okay.”
Those clear eyes study me, I don’t know what he’s looking for or what he sees, but he seems satisfied. A soft kiss is placed on the corner of my mouth and then he’s scooping his baby sister in his arms and walking out of the room.
Like I’m going to go hide out in his room when there’s a whole kitchen that needs cleaning. Gran would strangle me if she found out.
I’m wiping down the counters when I hear heels clicking on the tile floor. My whole body locks up, and I have to take a few deep breaths before I turn around.
Wyatt’s mother is standing on the other side of the island, watching me.
“Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my kitchen?”
“I’m Marley. We’ve met before, I work with Wyatt.”
“Of course you do. But what the hell are you doing in my house?”
“This isn’t your house,” Wyatt says from behind her.
He walks around his mother and heads straight for me. His eyes are darker, the blue color clouded over. He’s upset.
It’s a look I’ve never seen before, but I know all of his other ones. This one tells me upset. But the way he’s positioned himself, right in front of me, blocking me from the cold view of his mother, I know he’s upset for me and not with me.
“I’m okay,” I say for only him to hear.
Wyatt stares into my eyes for a few seconds longer before turning to his mother.
“Didn’t expect you to be home so early,” he says this so easily, so calmly. I, however, can see as he sets his shoulders, the muscles tightening. I can feel the tension rolling off his stiff body.
“I do live here. Or did you forget that while you were playing house with your little friend?” She sneers at me.
“What I do with my time, and who I do it with is none of your concern, Janet.” Wyatt clenches his fists.
Tentatively, I reach out and place my hand on his arm. Just like Saturday after his confrontation with my parents, I feel how wound up he is. Whatever anger he’s holding he’s letting it consume him. And I can’t help him like he helps me.
“I am still your mother, Wyatt. Whether you acknowledge me or not, I think that means I can question you whenever I want.”
“You can drop the act, Janet. Marley already knows about you. She’s seen you in action.”
“I don’t know why I put up with you. I should have shipped you off to California a long time ago. You’re too much like Matthew.”
“Well thank God for that. I can’t imagine what I would do if I were like you,” Wyatt spits at her.
Sliding my hand up and down his arm, I want him to recognize me. Wyatt is aware of my presence, I know he is. His body leans into mine, not quite touching me. He’s attuned to me as much as he can be, but his focus is on Janet.
I want him to recognize me and not her. I don’t know what to do, but I know I don’t want him in pain.
I clasp his hand, weaving my fingers through his, and he gives my hand a quick squeeze. Wyatt is telling me that he knows what I’m doing.
“You’re an ungrateful little shit.”
“And you’re a selfish bitch.”
Janet’s eyes widen, and she looks at her son. And I mean really looks at her son. From what I understand Wyatt raised himself. Sure he had a nanny, but she wasn’t his mother. She wasn’t like Mary, according to Wyatt. She didn’t care, she just did her job.
“How dare you. I don’t know why you think you can talk to me like that, but you can’t. If you’re going to live here with my daughters, you will show me some respect.”
Wyatt releases my hand and steps forward. Mother and son face-off on opposite sides of the island, it’s intense and intimidating to watch. Neither backs down.
Seeing them in the same space allows me to take note of their similarities and differences. Obviously, Wyatt got his red hair from his mother, but I can still notice the shades of brown in his red locks.
Janet’s eyes are the same shade of baby blue as Ava’s. I’m curious what color eyes Matthew Hensley had. Wyatt couldn’t have just ended up with those unusual clear eyes of his.
As for the pale complexion, I can say it’s just a redhead thing. Janet isn’t as pale as Wyatt, but her skin is still a nice creamy shade of white.
“Some respect? Where’s my respect mother? Don’t you think I deserve some since I’m over here raising your daughters? Or what about Mary? Doesn’t she deserve some respect? Since she’s the one who does everything I can’t. We’re the ones who are taking care of the girls. Not you. You’re off drinking and fucking, and doing God knows what all day and night long.
Yet you ask for respect?
I’ve put up with this for too fucking long. I’m telling you, right here and right now, since you’re sober you’ll actually remember this.
I’m going to do everything I can to put you on your spoiled ass. I own everything you have. It’s the money that my father left for me that gives you the life you want. It might not happen anytime soon, but I will be taking back everything you’ve stolen from me.”
As if in slow motion, Janet’s hand shoots out and slaps Wyatt hard across the face. The force of the impact causes his head to turn in the opposite direction. He’s so startled that his body jerks.
I cover my mouth with my hand; shock has me rooted in place.
“Don’t ever talk to me like that again,” Janet spits before turning and leaving the room.
The sound of her heels clicking on the floor can be heard all the way up the stairs and onto the second level. The loud sound of a door slamming shut echoes through the house.
Wyatt and I stand in the kitchen in silence. It’s not the silence we’re used to, though. It’s one that is punctuated with anger, shock, and all of Wyatt’s unreleased pain.
I look at my broken boy for a long time, the hurt in his eyes pains me like never before. He’s the one who’s been saving me all this time, now it’s my turn to save him.
Chapter 19
Wyatt
Those green eyes bore into mine. “You didn’t have to clean.” I’m an idiot.
After what just happened that’s all I could think to say.
“Yes, I did. It’s the only thing I can do” Pagan says. Her words are soft, but they still cut me.
“Not true. Just you being here is enough. That’s never happened befor
e.” I touch my cheek when I say this. It stings, my mother got me good. “I’ve never talked to her like that before. And she’s never raised a hand to me.”
“I’m sorry,” she takes a step closer to me, “Why did you say those things?”
“Because it’s the truth and I needed her to know. I felt like I could finally do it. With you, I feel like I can do anything. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about, Wyatt. I’ve seen people fight before. I’ve fought with my parents before. That was something else. The way you react to her.” She shrugs. “I don’t know how to explain it.
“You don’t have to. I get it. She brings something out in me that I don’t understand. It’s why I never wanted you to get close to me. This right here, this is what can ruin us.”
“Don’t,” she says firmly, “don’t ever say that. What happens between you and her, it can never affect what happens between us.”
“You don’t understand, Pagan. That was her sober. Can you imagine how she gets when she’s had a few? I don’t want you in the middle of this bullshit. I need my life with you and my life with my family to be separate. You of all people should know how it is.”
Pagan steps back until she hits the counter. I can see the hurt in her eyes. But she needs to understand. I need her to understand that this is not something she needs to be around for. I want her to be here with me and for me, but I don’t ever want her to have to deal with this.
I’m not ready to lose her this soon, but I will if I have to. I will because she deserves better than what I can give her.
“You’re an idiot. If you honestly think that your fucked-up family could keep me away from you, then you’re an idiot. If you think I’m ever going to be put off by whatever shit you have going on then you don’t know me very well.
Yes, my family is fucked-up, and yes, I didn’t want to get close to you. But that had nothing to do with them and everything to do with me. I wasn’t meant to get attached. I don’t know if I can ever go back and have a normal relationship. Not after everything that has happened.
But dammit, Wyatt, this is my choice. You are my choice. You are the only thing I care about. You are the only one I want to be with. So if you try to push me away, I will hurt you, because I’m sick and tired of pretending I don’t want you.”
I’m in front of her before she can say another word. “Let’s not talk about it anymore, okay?”
“Okay,” Pagan says. She looks up at me, and I can’t help but get lost in those fucking eyes. Eyes that show me the depth of the soul I can’t get enough of.
We have more to talk about. I'm sweeping this issue under the rug for now because we've both had enough shit thrown at us this weekend. And I don't want to fight with her. I know this is the type of conversation that will cause us to hurt each other. I don't want that. I don't think either one of us could handle any more shit.
So I push our issues out of my mind. Placing my hands on her hips, I bring her closer to me. Those green eyes go dark with desire, it's almost like I can see the moment she allows her brain to shut off. She pushes closer to me, responding to my touch, waiting to see what I do next.
Leaning down, I press my lips to one side of her mouth, then the other. Pagan wraps her around my neck, grabbing her by the waist I lift her onto the counter and step between her legs.
“We’re getting very comfortable with each other,” she says.
“I’ve always been comfortable with you,” I reply, pressing closer. “I just didn’t want to be.”
“I know. Neither did I.”
“I know.” I kiss her softly, barely pressing my lips to hers. She reaches for more but I put enough distance between us, so I can watch her face. “There’s no going back now, Pagan. You know that, right?”
“I do. I’ve accepted it.”
“We still have a few days left of school. I don’t want them to know. Not yet.”
“Why? They already speculate, and you’re the one who said to ignore them.”
“I know what I said, but I don’t want any unnecessary drama. Let’s just have this time for us.”
“For us,” she agrees.
Pagan runs her delicate fingers through my hair. I swear there’s nothing better than the feeling of those hands touching me, any part of me.
“Kiss me, please.”
I could never deny this girl anything.
Our lips and tongues and souls come together as we give ourselves to each other. I’d be lying if I said I don’t want to pick her up and take her upstairs so I can feel more of her. So I can kiss and touch her like I’m craving to.
But I do know what is right and what is wrong. And taking Pagan that way, with the anger I feel for Janet still coursing through my system, is not right. She deserves more than that. I will give her more than that.
Plus, now is not the time to test my limits. I don’t know how far I could actually get before my inexperience shows.
This time it’s Pagan who pulls away. “We should go upstairs.” She says it so soft and innocent like, I can hear the weariness and the apprehension.
“Good idea, It’s been a long day.” I kiss her once more because I just can’t help myself.
I grab her hand once her feet are safely on the floor again. Turning out the lights in the kitchen leaves us in darkness. However, I’ve become a master of avoiding things in the dark.
Silently we walk up the stairs to my room, only stopping so I can look in on Adele. There’s never been a night since she was born that I haven’t checked on her.
I let Pagan shower first. And I try to ignore the idea of her in my bathroom without her clothes. Sure, I’ve seen her in a bathing suit, and those tank tops she wears, and those shorts that show off her long legs. For such a short person she has amazingly long legs.
During all those times my imagination has wanted to go there. I want to know what hides underneath those clothes. Her work uniform hugs her curves, curves I’ve brushed my hands over.
I’m trying to be responsible, but it’s hard when Pagan is involved. The fact that I’ve never been with a girl doesn’t help. I want to touch her, I want to see her, but does she feel the same way? She cares about me, yes. She kisses me, yes. But does she think about me the way I think about her?
I don’t care if my line of thinking isn’t logical, or if it makes me less of a man. I’m seventeen for fuck’s sake, and I’ve never done anything with a girl. I’ve never wanted to.
I am pathetic.
“Wyatt? Are you okay?” That sweet, soft accent of hers is my favorite sound in the world.
“I’m fine.” Turning my head to look at her I have to will my body not to react.
Pagan stands at the side of the bed; her hair is wet and hangs loosely at her shoulders. She’s wearing a black T-shirt of mine and nothing else. I didn’t even know she grabbed it from the drawer.
“I hope this is all right. I don’t like wearing the same tank top again, and somehow I only ended up with two.”
“It’s fine. I’m going to shower.”
Jumping up, I grab clothes from the dresser and I try not to run to the bathroom.
She is going to kill me.
Taking the fastest shower I’ve ever taken, I ignore everything below the waist. Spending too much time there will make things happen that I can’t really think about. Not with Pagan just on the other side of the door.
I don’t care that I’m a young guy and that this is a perfectly normal reaction. My mother might not have done much to raise me right, but I did have a nanny who was pretty old school. And I did go to private school in the South. I know what is morally right and what is not.
And anything having to do with my dick and the thought of Pagan is not right.
***
Waking up for the second day in a row with Pagan’s small body wrapped around mine is as close to heaven as I’m probably going to get. I close my eyes and stay as still as I can, I don’t want this magical moment to go
away. I didn’t sleep much, too worried about what comes next. I’m sure my alarm will be waking us up any second, but I don’t want to move. I can’t move.
My arm is wrapped around Pagan’s waist. I pull her body flush against mine. Her head rests just under my chin, her hair smells like my shampoo. It’s the little things that make me realize how much I care for her. How much I love her. If only I could tell her.
She shifts, her leg wrapping around mine. Being physically connected to Pagan is so much more challenging than being emotionally connected to her. And it’s not just about the sexual aspects of it. She sees more of me. I see more of her.
When I touch her, I feel like we connect in a way that wouldn’t be possible without touching. It’s not something I can explain. It’s not rational. But then nothing about us is rational.
When the alarm goes off, and I feel Pagan shift against me, waking up from her second night of peaceful sleep, I let out a sigh.
Leaning over her, I hit the off button. “How long have you been awake?” she asks against my neck.
I can feel her lips brushing against my skin with every movement.
“A while, I’m not really sure.”
“I hate that you didn’t sleep more.”
“Pagan, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry. I got enough.” I squeeze her to me.
“But I do worry. I worry that you don’t take care of yourself the way you should. I worry that you’re letting what happened last night linger. I worry that you’re going to realize you can’t do this with me around. I worry about everything, Wyatt.”
“I know. And I’m sorry you had to see that last night. But I’m not damaged by it. Not completely. I refuse to let her hurt me anymore. Trust me, okay?”
“I do trust you.”
“Good. Now we should get moving. Only a few days left, but I have a feeling it’s going to be a rough week.”
Pagan groans and sits up. She pushes unruly curls out of her face. Her green eyes are dull.
Surprisingly, Ava and Adele are easy to wake up. Normally it’s a chore to get them up and ready for Mary.
I check in on my mother, to make sure she didn’t die of alcohol poisoning, and then I go downstairs to make coffee.
Forever (Destroyed by Love #1) Page 12