Losing the Forbidden: Forbidden Series #2

by Lorraine, Tracy

  I’m just about to open the door to find out when a noise from behind stops me. The closer I get to her bedroom door, the louder the sobs become.

  Running my hands over my now shaved hair, I fight with what I should do. Every inch of my body is screaming to go in and comfort her, but my head knows she won’t accept it.

  I don’t deserve for her to accept it.

  After a few seconds, I back away. If there’s ever going to be any kind of relationship between us again, I need to allow her to come to me. I’ve already caused enough pain to last her a lifetime.

  Walking back up to my door, I push it open and step inside. What I find shocks the hell out of me.

  I was expecting it to be empty or maybe turned into another bland guest bedroom. What I wasn’t expecting was to find it exactly the way I left it.

  “Fucking hell,” I mutter, walking farther into the room and taking in everything I left behind.

  It’s exactly as I remember. There are still piles of CDs next to the player, as if I’m about to return to play them. The TV remote is sitting on my bedside table where it always was, and my charger is next to it, waiting for my phone. There’s even one of my hoodies draped over the chair by the window.

  Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I fight to drag in a couple of deep breaths. I expected Nick to have skipped all my stuff the first chance he got.

  Seeing my room as it always was has the first tingles of hope trying to nudge their way in. It makes me start to believe that maybe not all that much has changed and that I can fit back into the life I should have here. The place I’ve always belonged could be my home once again.

  Falling back onto my bed, I breathe in the familiar scent. Feelings I hardly remember wash through me. Contentment, safety, true happiness. That’s what this house used to be to me, and it can be again. With him gone and no longer controlling everyone’s lives, I can finally have what I’ve always wanted.

  I make a plan and stay where I am, enjoying the feeling of my bed beneath me and being surrounded by all my childhood things. That is, until a shiver of awareness runs down my spine.

  Propping myself up on my elbows, I look to the door. My heart drops when I don’t find who I was expecting—until I see movement of a shadow.

  I don’t waste any time. Jumping from the bed, I rush to the doorway. I’m desperate for time alone with her.

  When I pull the door wide, her eyes fly up to mine in shock. Her mouth drops open, but I beat her to it.

  “Lauren,” I breathe. I love being able to say her name once again.

  Her tired and bloodshot eyes hold mine. I can see fire burning behind them. She probably hopes her anger will scare me off.

  Her face softens the longer we stare at each other, and to my surprise, when I reach for her hand and pull her closer, she follows my lead.

  I gasp when her breasts gently press against my chest. My heart hammers as all the feelings that I’ve spent the last six years burying come rushing back.

  “Fuck, I’ve missed you,” I admit, staring deep into her light-blue eyes.

  They visibly darken the second the words are out of my mouth.

  “Fuck you, Ben. Fuck you!” she hisses, backing away and putting her arms up to keep me from coming after her. She bumps back against the wall at the same time as sobs rack her body. “Y-you d-don’t get to d-do this,” she stutters out through her tears. “You don’t get to just turn back up and act like nothing happened. Like you didn’t abandon us. Abandon me.”

  She looks at me, her lids lowered and her eyes full of water. There might only be a few feet between us, but it still feels like miles.

  My fingers twitch to reach for her and pull her to me. My muscles ache with the need to comfort her.

  As I take a step forward, her eyes flash with concern, but I push past it. The moment her warmth presses against my chest, I feel like I can breathe for the first time in years. My arms wrap tightly around her and I hold her as she cries and trembles against me.

  I don’t think she’s aware as I move us from the hallway and into the privacy of my bedroom.

  “I’m sorry,” she says after many long, incredible minutes in my arms.

  I know she doesn’t need me to say anything. I bite down on my tongue to stop myself. I lower my eyes—it’s the first time I take in what she’s wearing.

  “Is that your boyfriend’s?”

  “What?”

  “Your hoodie. Is it your boyfriend’s?” I know the moment she remembers because her eyes crinkle at the sides. I’m almost convinced I’ve got to her, but in a split second, they harden, and she jumps from my lap.

  “No, Ben. You have no right to ask me those kinds of questions.” She goes to leave. I should allow her, but I’m a selfish bastard who’s missed her more than I’m willing to admit right now.

  “Wait. I’ve ordered dinner. Is Thai still your favourite?”

  Stopping in the doorway, she looks over her shoulder. “Is it from Thai Emerald?”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t get it from anywhere else.”

  She narrows her eyes at me, she’s trying to look angry, but she knows as well as I do that she’ll do anything for their Phat Thai.

  “This doesn’t mean anything.”

  Following her down towards the kitchen, I stop briefly to tell Mum I’ve sorted dinner, but she doesn’t respond. I’m desperate to do something to help, but aside from being here, I’m not really sure what else to do for her. I can still vividly remember the depression she fell into after Dad died; I can only hope it’s not as bad this time.

  The second my foot hits the bottom step, the doorbell rings. I answer it and thank the guy while Lauren crashes around in the kitchen. When I get there, the table is laid with plates and glasses.

  “What would you like to drink?” she asks politely, but it’s far from her usual kind tone.

  “Water would be great, thanks.”

  “We have beer if you’d like one.”

  I’ve used alcohol more times than I can count to help me drown out the reality of my life for the past few years. Now I’m back, with the potential to finally make everything right, it’s time I stopped using it as a crutch.

  “No, thank you. Water’s perfect.”

  She nods, but she still looks at me curiously. “Well, if you don’t mind, my life’s shit right now,” she says, placing my drink down and filling herself a very large glass of wine and taking a sip.

  She sighs as she savours the taste and my eyes drop to the smooth lines of her neck as she swallows. My insides clench and my cock twitches as I imagine dropping my lips to that soft skin.

  Her glass slams down on the table and drags me from my fantasies. I watch as she huffs out a frustrated breath before she digs inside the takeout bag for her beloved Phat Thai.

  “I’m sorry about your dad, Lauren.”

  “Are you?” she snaps, her eyes finding mine.

  “I’m sorry you’ve lost a parent. I know how hard that is.” I keep any unpleasant words I might want to spew about him to myself. The time will come where I’m going to have to tell her everything, but tonight, I just want us to eat. I want to spend time with her. To just be able to look at her. I want to pretend for an hour or so that things aren’t totally fucked up.

  “I’m doing okay.” Her voice is weak and unconvincing. I can tell by her tired eyes and sad expression that she’s anything but okay, but I don’t point it out.

  We eat in silence, but it’s not as awkward as it could be. Just being in her presence brings me a kind of peace I’ve not experienced in such a long time.

  Mum eventually appears, looking worse for wear. She joins us at the table but forgoes the food in favour of the wine. I bite my tongue from chastising her for drinking on an empty stomach. Turning up unannounced following the death of her husband and proceeding to tell her what to do is sure to go down like a lead balloon.

  “You two go and relax. I’ll clean all this up,” I offer, once Lauren and I have finished eatin
g.

  Mum immediately gets up, and after thanking me unconvincingly, takes herself and her wine into the living room. Lauren hangs around a little, watching me curiously as I start to tidy up.

  “What?”

  “N…nothing.” Raising my eyebrows, I wait for her to elaborate. “It’s just…you’re different.”

  “Different? Is that meant to be a good or bad thing?” My physical changes since the last time she saw me are quite obvious. My annoying teenage floppy hair has been shaved off, and I’ve spent many, many hours in the gym as I fought to forget and put this place behind me. I’m probably double the size of the boy she remembers.

  “That’s yet to be determined.” Her eyes drop from mine in favour of my body. She bites down on her bottom lip as they take me in. It’s clear she’s happy with this change at least.

  Leaning my hip against the counter, I wait with a smirk playing on my lips while she takes her fill.

  She stills the second she realises what’s she’s doing. When she finds the amusement covering my face, her eyes narrow and her lips press into a thin line. “Don’t think about getting any crazy ideas.” Stepping up to me, she pokes me in the chest. If it’s meant to hurt, she needs to think again.

  Wrapping my hand around her delicate one, I pull her against me and put my lips to her ear.

  “I’m not getting any ideas, Lauren. I never forgot them.”

  She gasps and fights to get away from me. I’ll allow her to take the space she needs.

  For now.

  Chapter Six

  I hardly get a wink of sleep. Knowing she’s just over the corridor is torture. My constant stream of thoughts wondering if she was in her own bed thinking about me and what we once had kept my dick rock-hard all night. It didn’t seem to care how many times I came with thoughts of her in my head. The second I allowed my mind to drift once again, up it popped.

  I’d like to think I’d become fairly skilled at keeping thoughts of her at bay, focusing on other aspects of my life and trying to distract myself with other women, but one look at her, and just like six years ago in the kitchen, she’s the only thing I can see. The only thing I want.

  My eyelids are heavy with exhaustion when I eventually get up the next morning. The house is silent, so even though it’s long past what most people would call early, I open the curtains and windows in the hope of brightening the place up a little, then kick-start the coffee machine. It’s not the one I remember, so it takes me a few minutes to figure out how it works, but soon the scent of the beans fills the room and I already start to feel a little more alert.

  With my steaming mug in hand, I slide open the doors that cover the entire back wall of the house and step out into the morning sun. It’s not quite the fresh sea air that I’ve become used to, but it’s not city smog either.

  Falling down onto the swing seat, I rest my head back and try to enjoy the peace and quiet. It doesn’t work; my mind still runs at a mile a minute with images of Lauren. I’m desperate to take her pain away, to make all of this better for her. But I know that’s not possible.

  Holding her to me last night felt so incredible, but I’m not stupid enough to think she’s going to allow that to happen again anytime soon. She’s had years to build up her walls when it comes to me, and I’m going to have one hell of a fight on my hands to knock them down.

  She thinks I betrayed the one promise I made to her by leaving. I told her I’d always protect her, and that was exactly what I was doing. Protecting her from the knowledge of who her dad really was. Protecting their relationship. That was the most important thing to me at the time.

  “Why are you here, Ben?” The sound of her soft, sweet voice has my heart pounding and picks my head up from where it was resting. I didn’t hear her join me, but when I look over, she’s stood in the doorway staring down the garden.

  I allow myself a moment to take her in. Her blonde hair is in a mess and piled on top of her head. Her face is fresh and clear of make-up, although when she turns I know I’ll see pain and sadness in her eyes. She’s wearing that damn man’s hoodie she had on last night and what I assume is a tiny pair of pyjama shorts just poking out the bottom, leaving her mile-long, tanned legs on full display.

  Shifting to a slightly more comfortable position, I clear my throat and try to remember what her question was.

  She must get bored of waiting, because after a few seconds, she turns her stare on me, her hands coming up to rest on her hips. Her attempt at attitude makes me want to laugh, but the hardness of her features stops me.

  Widening her eyes, she continues to impatiently wait while I battle with what to say.

  None of my answers are going to go down very well.

  “I…”

  “You were brave enough to show your face now Dad’s gone?”

  I open my mouth to argue, but in a way what she’s saying is correct.

  “No, Lauren. It’s more complicated than that.”

  “Is it? Because the way I see it…” She walks closer, but her angry eyes never leave me. “You got scared, you ran, and you continued running until you no longer had to. The risk of coming home has gone, and you are free to do whatever your selfish, pig-headed self wanted to do. You should just do us all a favour and crawl back to wherever it was you ran to.”

  When she runs out of steam, she’s right in front of me, staring hate-filled daggers down at me.

  Slowly standing, my eyes run up the front of her until I find hers. They’re dark and angry, but I also see more in them. Our bodies are only a breath apart, and her heat seeps into me. I clench my fists to stop me reaching out and pulling her to me.

  Her breath tickles over my face as her chest heaves with anger.

  “Nothing’s changed, has it?” I ask, searching her face and dropping my eyes to her full lips.

  “Y-yes. Everything’s changed. Everything has changed.” Slamming her palms against my chest, I fall back onto the chair as she spins and storms away.

  My lips twitch up into a smile. I’ve gotten to her. She might think her act is fooling me, but I see her. I can see underneath the façade she’s trying to show the world.

  “Son, it’s so good to see you,” Uncle Chris says, pulling his front door open later that day.

  “You too,” I grunt when I find myself dragged into a brief man hug.

  “Thank you,” he says taking the folder from my hands. “Did you manage to get everything?”

  “I think so. All the bank details should be in there. I can always go back if need be. Is everything…as it should be?”

  Chris knows I had concerns about Nick’s business decisions, but like me, he never found any evidence of any wrongdoing. As our family solicitor for as long as I can remember, Chris has always known the ins and outs of the business, and he’s always been in the best position to know if there was anything questionable happening. The fact that he never found anything makes me doubt myself.

  “So far so good. We’re yet to get the will, but I’m assuming your mum is to get everything. But someone’s going to need to take over, and soon.” He pins me with a look, and I don’t need to ask what he means by that statement.

  I always thought the business was my future; but standing here now with it once again in reach, I’m not sure it’s what I really want. As much as I’ve wanted to be back here, I can’t deny I’m missing my new life just a little bit.

  “How are your mum and Lauren doing?” he asks, changing the subject when I keep my lips sealed.

  “Mum’s…lost.” She didn’t show her face this morning. The only reason I knew she was still in her room was the sounds of her cries as I got ready to come here. I knocked, tried to convince her to come down for food, but she ignored me. “And Lauren’s…angry.”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “Not really. I expected it.”

  “You need to tell her the truth, you know.”

  “I will. I just want her to get the funeral done first. I think it’s important that
she says goodbye to him as she knew him.”

  “You’ve got a wise head on those shoulders, boy. Your dad would be proud of you.”

  The mention of my dad, as always, has a lump climbing up my throat.

  Chris looks over when I don’t respond, his face full of sympathy. “You know the only person he’d want to take over now is you, don’t you?”

  Nodding, I sip at the coffee he placed in front of me.

  Am I ready for this?

  “Are you planning on attending the funeral?”

  Looking up over the rim of the mug, I consider his question. I’ve no intention of going to celebrate that arsehole’s life, but it’s not about me.

  “I think you should, Ben,” Chris says, interrupting my thoughts. “Your mum needs all the support she can get right now. God knows it’s the only reason I’m going.” Seeing the determination on his face warms my heart. I’ve always felt a little comfort in the fact that Mum had Chris here looking out for her; but seeing how important she is to him confirms that I was right in reaching out to him when I left. Chris was Dad’s old school friend, but he and Mum have always been quite close. When they both lost their other halves too early in their lives, it only cemented their friendship.

  I stay with Chris until I know the office will be empty, then I head straight there. I’ve always felt close to Dad in the place he spent so much time, building the business, creating his empire, and I need that kind of comfort right now.

  I upheaved my life six years ago. Totally started over. Do I want to do that again? The little voice in my head screams that I’m not starting over—I’m coming home. The hesitation I feel about the whole thing doesn't seem to agree with that though.

  I spend hours on the phone to the IT support desk as I attempt to log onto the system and see what kind of state everything’s in. I have full confidence in the office staff—the ones I know, anyway. It’s the late boss who has me desperate to dig around in the background of the business.