by Ivy Fox
“I thought I was hallucinating. I honestly believed that I must have fallen asleep somehow, and you—naked as the day you were born—bombarded my dream and made it all yours. My first wet dream, with you as its shining star.” He chuckles at the last line.
“Funny.”
“I’m serious.”
“Then you remember the night differently than I do. You were a complete asshole.”
“As opposed to any other night?” he jokes, and I can’t help but laugh.
“True.”
“But that’s how I saw you—a beautiful, heavenly mirage. And then your sexy ass came out of the pool, and it took every fiber in my being not to kiss you. Not to touch you,” he confesses, his voice dripping with the same need he proclaims to have had that night.
“You hated me then.”
He shakes his head, pulling my hand to his lips, so he can press one tender kiss on my inner wrist.
“I never hated you. I just didn’t know you. Not like I do now.”
“So if you don’t hate me anymore, what do you feel?” I bravely ask. I feel my heart pound in panic, cursing at me for asking the question when it’s not yet ready to hear his loving oath.
“Ah, little liar, for someone who lies so well, you sure want me to spill out all my secrets, now don’t you? I’m going to keep this one guarded just a little while longer if you don’t mind.” He throws me a cocky wink and a wolfish grin, outing him completely.
I push myself off my chair and walk over to him, sitting on his lap. My arms cling around his neck, and without any inhibition, I kiss him. I kiss him how he should always be kissed. With my very soul at the tip of my tongue, and my heart pressed on his lips. He melts into my embrace, and I feel his heart beating in unison with mine.
Chaotic. Frantic. And as unlikely as it may seem, finally at peace.
My eager hands fall to his chest, already looking to unbutton his shirt and dive deep into our frenzied waters, but Rome stops my advances, halting my greedy fingers from moving another inch.
“Wait. Wait. We need to talk, Snow. And I can’t do that if you keep seducing me every five seconds,” he moans, going for one more bite and suck of my lower lip.
“Well, if I have to stop, so do you.” I pant, feeling his hard cock already swelling against my ass. I start to rub my cheeks on him, knowing it will drive him mad, and maybe he’ll finally give in to what we both want right now.
“Shit, baby. Go sit down. I can’t think straight when you’re on top of me,” he grunts, frustrated.
“I thought you said thinking was overrated,” I tease, trailing my tongue across the seam of his lower lip. When his hand crawls up under my dress, clutching my inner thigh, just inches away from where I want him most, I open up for him, so he can feel the heat of my core calling out his name.
“Fuck. I’m going to regret this,” he spews, going in for one final scorching kiss before taking his hands away, only to slap my ass and push me off his lap. “Please, Holland. Sit down before I lose my mind,” he begs me in earnest. Although I’m hot and bothered, I see how determined he is to say what he needs to say.
“What’s wrong, Rome?” I ask worriedly, my hackles already on high alert.
He lets out a long exhale and rummages his fingers through his hair as if he has no idea on how to start.
“Everyone will be back tomorrow,” he finally states, and my apprehension multiplies tenfold. “And when I say everyone, I mean the twins.”
I don’t say anything as my throat is already clogged and dry from whatever Rome is insinuating.
“Now, baby, I’m going to ask you this once. I need you to tell me the truth, okay?”
“Okay.” My voice is but a whisper, yet he hears me just the same.
“Do you love Ollie and Ash?”
I keep my mouth shut because, no matter what I say, the answer won’t bode well for me.
He leans over the table and picks my chin up.
“You don’t have to lie to me, little liar. I know you do.”
“Rome…”
“It’s okay to love them. And because I love them, too, we can’t keep doing what we’ve been doing. Not until you have figured out what role they should have in your life,” he croaks out in pain, but I feel the walls build up around me—brick by brick—with every word he says.
“Why?” I hear myself choke out angrily, pushing my chin back from his tender caress. Rome leans back in his chair, his face a multitude of agony and misery, yet he’s set his mind in causing it anyway.
“They need to make amends, Snow. They need you, just as much as you need them. And I’m afraid I’ll be standing in their way if we keep going as we have been.”
“You’re not. I’m done with them,” I state bitterly.
A sad smile hikes up at the corner of his lips and shreds my heart to pieces.
“Always such a beautiful, little liar. You’re not done with them, in the same way they aren’t done with you. Give them time. You fell in love with them for a reason. Don’t turn your back on them.”
Like you’re doing to me?
“They did that all on their own,” I say, instead of what my heart is screaming out.
“And they’re suffering for it. But soon, maybe in a month’s time, maybe two, they will come to their senses and beg for your forgiveness. I don’t want to be the thing that tears you apart. I’ve done enough damage as it is. I might not have known what they were giving up before, but I do now. Don’t make me the villain in my brothers’ story, Snow. I couldn’t live with myself,” he confesses, and his altruism and selflessness kill me even more.
“Just pretty words to say you don’t want to be with me,” I rebuke harshly, hoping to inflict the same anguish on him that he’s done on me with his self-sacrificing act.
His frown deepens, and his golden eyes turn a turbulent, dark shade—one reminiscent of devastation and heartache.
“Not like this. Not when it comes at their expense.”
“Fine, Roman. Do whatever you want. You always do anyway.”
I turn around and head to my room just so he doesn’t see the tears that fall for him. I rip my dress off and crawl inside our bed.
Not ours. Just mine, now.
I pull the sheets over me and become overwhelmed with how they still smell like him—like us. I wipe the burning tears away from my eyes, cursing myself for not latching on to my anger. Because I am. I am angry. I’m so pissed at him for ruining our last night together. If this was how he felt all along, he should have said something before he let me fall, fast and deep, into his beautiful soul.
A creak of an opening door subsides my whimpers, and I stay awkwardly in place, waiting to see what Rome will do. I feel the bed dip behind me, and his arms wrap themselves around my waist. I should pry them off me. I should hit him and scream in his face. Yet I do nothing. Instead, I let him nestle me into his warm embrace, his head firmly on my shoulder, breathing me in with the same desperation I take in his warm scent.
“Do you hate me now, little liar?” he asks sullenly, gripping me tighter to him. “Please say that you don’t.”
“I do. I do hate you,” I bite back, but the lie is futile since my tears betray me.
“Always such a pretty, little liar,” he whispers, placing a tender kiss to my shoulder. “If it makes it any easier, I hate myself, too, right now.”
It doesn’t. Nothing makes this easy.
“Tell me why? Why are you doing this?” I croak out, gripping his clasped hands on my stomach.
“Because I have to. I need to. If you chose them, they’ll be happy. I need to see my brothers happy, Snow.”
“And what about you? Don’t you deserve to be happy?”
He lets out another long, somber exhale, and kisses my trembling shoulder once more.
“Only you can decide if I deserve to be happy or not, little liar. But I hope, with all my heart, you find me worthy of it, too.”
I let my silent tears fall as they may. We don’t sleep, and we don’t talk. We just lie there in each other’s arms throughout the night, dreading the dawn’s arrival.
The minute Elle enters the house, she seizes all my attention, bombarding me with so many stories that I didn’t even see if Ollie was trailing behind her or not. As much as I said I was done with him, I missed him this past week, especially because of what transpired between Rome and me.
The Ollie I once knew wouldn’t judge me or hold anything against me, but I am curious to see what he might think about these new events. I’m not naive in thinking Ash will return home. He probably just went back to the Murphys’ penthouse where he’s been living this past month.
Even though I hate that Rome wants to give me space to figure out my feelings concerning the twins, deep down, I know he’s right. I need to know if we can move past our tragic past and find ourselves back again. If that is even possible. It’s just, neither have shown enough remorse or regret to have my forgiveness yet.
Maybe Ollie was close, but the night we slept together made sure to cut that possibility short.
For the rest of the day, Elle goes on and on about her snowboarding and skiing adventures, and concern begins to set in when I realize she’s trying too hard to keep me focused on the tiniest details. Something happened on this ski trip that she doesn’t want to share with me. And since I’m keeping a pretty large secret from her myself, I don’t call her out on it. When she’s ready, she’ll come to me, as I will hopefully be able to go to her.
When she asks how my week went, I chew my lower lip, thinking if some things shouldn’t be kept sacred under lock and key. But this is Elle—the girl who has become my family when I have so little of it anymore. So I tell her everything, minus the attempted rape by her father.
“Wow!” she exclaims, her golden eyes, so similar to the boy I love, shimmering brightly. “You really do have a thing for my brothers, huh? Glad I have only three because if I had any more, your bed would definitely be crowded,” she jokes, nudging me on my shoulder.
“Funny, Elle,” I smirk, pushing her ponytail. She throws herself onto her bed, and like a snow angel, she starts batting her wings. I’m about to tease her, when she suddenly jumps on top of the bed, her eyes even wider than I thought possible.
“Oh, my God! It just hit me. You’re going to have to tell Ash and Ollie about you two. When you do, tell me when and where, and I’ll be there with popcorn and a smile on my face.” She begins to clap excitedly, but I’m not as giddy. Actually, the idea is making me nauseous.
“Elle!” I reprimand, but she just keeps dancing until she stretches her arms to pull me up to join her little parade, only to find my arms crossed over my chest, unamused.
She’s acting way to bubbly. And whatever she’s hiding, she’s masking it with this exaggerated excitement. Whatever it was, it made a very powerful impression on her, as this giddy-schoolgirl persona she’s putting on, is just to put me off the scent.
“What?” She throws her arms in the air. “They’re being total douche canoes. They deserve a fucking wake-up call.” She shrugs, not at all apologetic of how this may affect her brothers.
“Maybe they won’t even care.” I bite my inner cheek, wondering what would hurt less; confessing to them that I fell in love with their big brother, or not having them care one way or the other.
Elle lets out a huge laugh—again, so reminiscent of Rome—and bounces down on her bed, just to pop up on her feet in front of me.
“Oh, believe me, they’ll care. A lot!” she assures, surprising me with a hug. “Thank you for making Rome happy, Holland,” she whispers.
“How do you know I do?”
She pulls her head back and looks deep into my eyes.
“Because I know my brother, and I know you. You both have your demons, but your hearts are pure. You deserved finding each other,” she replies in earnest, her loving face displaying the Elle I adore.
I let her talk my ear off with all the speculations that pop into her mind in regards to how Ollie and Ash will take the news. In all honesty, they all sound bad. I’m starting to understand why Rome didn’t want to be a meddling force between the twins and me.
Before I know it, it’s close to ten, so I wish Elle goodnight and go back to my room to sleep since the previous night I was unable to do so.
True to his word, Rome made no efforts to see me or talk to me today. I never thought I’d become one of those girls who would stare at her phone, willing it to ring or ping with a message from the boy she was infatuated with.
I close my bedroom’s door, hating how cold and empty it feels. I was able to buy all sorts of new, colorful furnishings to bring personality to this bland looking room, but all of it feels dull now since the person who gave it life is not here. I take off my shoes, ready to take a shower before bed when a knock at the door halts my steps.
Rome.
The full-blown smile that rises to my face can’t be contained. However, when I open the door and see a younger version of him, my smile dies slowly.
Asher’s eyes are still rooted to the floor, so he doesn’t see how my grin left my face upon seeing him. But when his gaze starts traveling my body, from the tips of my toes to the top of my head, the first thing that I register is how clear his eyes are. No bags underneath them, no smell of lingering alcohol or pot hovering above him. Instead, he smells like a warm, summer’s day, dead in the heart of winter. He looks good. Like himself again. Like the boy who once stole my heart with a devilish smile and a wicked tongue.
“Hi,” he greets, a small curl on his upper lip making him look even more devastatingly handsome than he already is.
“Hi,” I croak out, my defenses slightly off guard to such a normal greeting.
His hazel eyes—donning more green than brown—sparkle, and when he runs his hand behind the nape of his neck, I realize he’s nervous.
“Shit, this is harder than I thought.”
“What is?”
“I… um… I wanted to let you know that I’m back. I mean, living back here. At the manor,” he stutters, and I’d find his vulnerable tone endearing if I hadn’t been burned so often by it.
I learned my lesson that, with Ash, I have to keep my walls up. He’s too volatile and hotheaded, and sometimes that leads him to lash out on the person closest to him. And right now, that’s me.
Been there, done that. Bought the damn T-shirt and all.
“That’s good. I’m sure your brothers and your sister missed you. Ollie especially,” I reply evenly, not letting on how his visit has taken me off-kilter.
“Yeah, I know. I just needed some time to get my head screwed on straight, and I wasn’t doing them any good being here. I wasn’t doing you any good being here,” he explains, his fingers still curled around his neck.
I watch as his other hand opens and closes into a fist as if he’s unable to keep still. Almost like he doesn’t know what he should do with them. The Ash that I fell in love with, would have his hands already gripped to my waist, but the one who left this house to live with the Murphys, only used them to seek out pain. I wonder which version is standing before me now.
“And staying over at Chad’s helped?”
He offers me a timid smile, and it does something to my insides.
“It did. His mom really came through for me. I needed some guidance. I don’t know if you noticed, but I was kind of spiraling out of control.”
‘Believe me, I noticed.’ I want to reply, but keep that sarcastic snide lodged in my throat.
“And Chad’s mother helped?” I ask, confused, and maybe a little jealous that another woman was able to get him clean and calm.
“It’s her job, after all.”
I pull my brows together, even more confused, and he lets out a little chuckle I haven’t heard in months.
I missed that laugh.
“She’s a therapist, Holland. She actually speciali
zes in helping kids with anger management issues. And though I’m pretty old to be seeing a kid’s shrink, her methods helped me just the same.”
“So you’re not angry anymore?” I ask, still baffled.
“Oh, no. I’m fucking angry. All the time. I’m just learning how to manage it better. Understand where my anger stems from and how to control and deal with it.”
“You asked for help. That’s a very mature thing to do, Ash. You should be proud of yourself,” I tell him truthfully.
If we were back to where we were, I’d hug him and tell him how proud I was of him. But we’re not there, yet. Not by a long shot.
He kicks the air with his foot, looking down at the ground again, as if unable to look me in the eye. Whereas before I saw revulsion in his eyes, now all I see is shame and guilt.
“It’s all because of you,” he whispers under his breath.
“What?”
He raises his head and takes two steps, eating the gap between us. He takes a lock of my hair into his fingers and begins to play with it, just how he used to. His penetrating stare makes me swallow dryly, and my feet can’t seem to move away from him. Instead, I keep still, waiting on bated breath for his next words.
“I said I went to look for help, because of you. I heard you that day in the hallway. You telling me we were done. You telling me how I got all up in my head when you couldn’t afford to. I heard you. And I’m here to tell you that guy is gone, Holland. Now, I might not be perfect. Fuck, we both know that I’m not, but I’m trying. And maybe one day, you’ll see that I’d do about anything to never hear you say those words to me again.”
I lick my lips, my heart beating madly in my chest, and find the strength to take a step back and away from his heartfelt confession.
“You shouldn’t do it for me, Ash. You should do it for yourself.”
The ghost of his crooked smile makes just the tiniest of appearances, as he lets the lock of my hair fall from his fingers.
“But that’s it. I am doing it for me. If I have to move mountains to get you back, then so be it. So, I guess what I’m really here to tell you is that we’re not done. Not at all. Our story is just starting.”