Chapter Eleven – Megan
I must be the only person in my class that will read a classic novel for anything other than requirement. I can’t think of anyone I know that would pick up Jane Eyre, Little Women, or Tess of the D’Urbervilles for pleasure.
In fact, they’re not even my first choice. Little Women comes in a close second, but Pride and Prejudice will always win out. There’s just something beautiful about a couple from two different backgrounds traveling along the bumpy road of love until it’s undeniable.
And there’s something even more beautiful about watching that journey happen, getting to flick through the pages anxiously waiting for that sweet first kiss, the passion filled argument, the final declaration. There’s something that pulls me in and takes me away from the real world.
There really is no place like the one you find between the pages of a book.
The only place that even comes close is in the arms of the person you love.
Perhaps, that’s why, with Braden in class all day, I’m sitting on the corner of Aston’s bed reading – and swooning over – the beauty that is Mr. Darcy. I’m pages away from one of the best scenes in the book – the rain scene where everything is so passionate and wet and oh my God, get together already! And I’m not ashamed to admit it, but I’ll happily yell at the characters until I get what I want.
The door opens and I keep reading, my eyes skittering across the page and drinking in every word.
The door is open. Okay. So this is gonna be kinda awkward if this isn’t Aston. Damn, why didn’t I think of this before?
I slowly raise my eyes over the top of the book. Aston clicks the door shut behind him, smirking at me with a cocked eyebrow.
“Not that I’m complaining, but is there any reason you’re on my bed?” he asks smoothly.
“I’m reading,” I reply, dropping my eyes again. “And I need to be comfy when I read, which will explain why I’m on your bed opposed to that horrible chair at the desk.”
“I can see you’re reading, Megs, but why are you reading in my room and not yours?”
“I can go if you’d like me to.” I dog-ear the page and tuck the book under my arm, stretching my legs out.
“Hey, no! No, I didn’t say that.” He drops his bag and walks towards the bed, putting his hands either side of me and leaning forward. “I didn’t even f*cking think it.”
“Oh. Well.” I smile sweetly. “I’ll just get back to my book, then.”
“Hell f*cking no,” he mutters, grabbing the battered book and dropping it on the floor. My mouth drops open.
“You did not just throw my book on the floor.”
“I dropped it.”
“No. You threw it. I should bitch slap you for hurting Mr. Darcy that way.”
“Right. Because Mr. Darcy will appreciate it.”
I narrow my eyes a little, half-surprised he even knows who Mr. Darcy is. But then again, I’m quickly finding out that Aston isn’t what he seems.
“You don’t throw my books. Ever,” I tell him firmly. His lips twitch. “I mean it. Next time you throw one of my babies, especially a favorite, I will hurt you.”
He schools his face into a serious expression and climbs onto the bed, kneeling in front of me. “I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs, cupping the side of my face. “I won’t throw one of your books ever again.”
I smile at him, turning my cheek into his palm. “You damn well better not.”
Aston touches his lips to mine, sliding his hand round to the back of my head. He lowers me back on the bed slowly, his mouth moving against mine tenderly.
“I just realized that Braden is in classes all day which means I have you all to myself for a while.” His lips travel along my jaw. “And there’s no damn way you’re reading a f*cking book when you could be doing this.” He runs a hand down my side and slips it under my shirt, his hand slightly rough against my skin.
I arch my back into him slightly, my hands easing their way up his arms to his shoulders and neck as his lips find their way to mine. The hair at the nape of his neck tickle against my fingers, and I curl it around them, holding him against me. My leg bends, coming up so my foot travels up the back of his calf, his jeans rough against my bare toes.
His tongue explores my mouth, diving in and out, swirling in the same way desire is in my lower stomach. His hand below my top and probing my body does nothing but ignite the fire inside me. It does nothing but continue to feed and fuel the storm of feelings I have whenever he’s near me.
Aston trails his lips along my jaw to my ear, letting them fall away from my skin and resting his head next to mine. “I still don’t understand why you’re here,” he whispers.
“I’m here because I want to be.” I trail a hand down his back, rubbing in slow, circular motions, knowing that the demons inside him are rising up. The demons that keep him from me completely.
“But I don’t understand why.”
“Not everything needs an explanation. This is one of those things.”
“What if a part of me needs one?” He pulls back, releasing me and kneeling up again.
I pull myself into a sitting position, crossing my legs in front of me. My eyes find his, and I’m lost in the swirling torment that’s in the shadows of them. His emotions are all battling each other with the force of a tornado, the color of his eyes darkened to the shade of the eye of a storm. I’m aching to reach out and touch him, but something tells me not to.
“Then that’s something I’ll never be able to give you,” I say quietly, sadly.
“Why?”
“Because my reasons for being here, the way I feel inside, I can’t put them into words. I can’t explain them. They just are.”
He stands, turning away from me. He pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it into the corner of his room carelessly. The muscles in his back and arms flex as he moves, running his hands through his hair.
“Talk to me,” I say softly.
“Why? What difference would it make?”
“Because I need to understand, Aston! I need to understand you – all the difference faces of you. I know three. I know the guy, I know the lover, and I know whatever side of you this is, but I don’t f*cking understand them!” I stand. “One minute you’re climbing through my bedroom window, then you’re kissing me, then you’re walking away from me. I don’t understand it!”
“Some things can’t be explained,” he says tightly, throwing my own words back at me.
“Bullshit! Bull. Shit. Aston!” I walk towards his turned back. “Absolute crap! The way you act the way you do, the way you hide a part of yourself from everyone, that has an explanation, and that could be explained! You just choose not to.”
“Maybe I can’t!” He turns to me, his eyes raw and his body taut. “Maybe I can’t explain it all. Maybe I can’t.”
His eyes drop. I’m so angry at him and I don’t even know why. I’m so confused about everything. I want to understand. I want to know what he keeps so buried down inside him, and I want to make it better. My hands reach out for him, and he grips my wrists in a lightning fast movement.
“Don’t,” he whispers, his face hard. “Don’t.”
A minute passes between us, stretching out for an infinite amount of time. Neither of us move, the only sound the heaviness of his breathing. He looks at me slowly, his eyes filled with sadness, and I’ve never seen him look so vulnerable. I want to shake his hands off my wrists and touch him, soothe that pain, but I can’t. I’ve tried.
I need to know why because the game isn’t between us. The game is the show we put on for everyone around us. There’s no charade when we’re standing face to face like we are now. There’s no charade when everything we feel is so, so real.
“You’re so desperate to keep hold of me, yet you’re so determined to keep me at arm’s length,” I whisper. “Why? Why can’t you talk to me? What are you scared of?”
“I’m scared of keeping you, and I’m scared of losing you. My whole life I’ve looked after myself, depended on myself, and I’ve kept everything at bay. All the feelings, everything. And then I met you.”
“Why me? Why do I make such a difference?”
He exhales slowly, resting his forehead against mine, his eyes burning into me. “Because I’ve never needed anyone as much as I need you. If I let you in, if I tell you everything, then you might not need me, too – and that is the f*cking scariest thing of all. As much as I wish you’d walk away, as much as you should walk away, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you.”
“Why would I go?” I frown a little.
He sighs, finally releasing my wrists and linking our fingers. “Because my past is different to yours, Megan. We come from two different places, two completely different stories-”
I shake my head. “You really believe that shit? Do you?” He doesn’t move. “You think your past will change the way I think about you? The way I feel? Because it won’t. It won’t change a goddamn thing!”
“Megan-”
I shake my head again, snatch my hands from his, and shove him away from me. I push myself off the door and cross the room. I lean against the window and look out between the gaps in the curtains. “I’m not gonna walk away, Aston. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I’m in too far already. Whatever it is that’s inside you, that’s eating away at you… I want to know.”
I hear his steps as he crosses the room. I feel the warmth of his body as he presses against my back, and he rests his hands on my hips. They slowly creep round to my stomach, flattening out, and he buries his face in the side of my hair. I lean back into him, struggling with the rollercoaster of emotions running through my body.
“We’re different, Megs,” he whispers. “Too different. Even now, we have to hide this.”
“We only have to hide it because Braden will kick our asses, but we can’t hide it forever.”
“I don’t wanna hide this. I don’t wanna hide you. Every guy that looks at you… I hate it. I hate the way they look at you like they just wanna f*ck your brains out. It drives me f*cking insane.”
“The way you used to look at me, you mean?” I tease, smiling a little.
He laughs hollowly, turning me around. I wrap my arms around his waist, laying my head against his bare chest and the beating of his heart.
“Yeah, the way I used to look at you until I did sleep with you, and I realized that wasn’t all I wanted from you. It wasn’t all I needed from you.” His voice rumbles in his chest, and he presses his lips to the top of my head.
“Then let me be what you need,” I beg. “Don’t think about Braden, or keeping this a secret, or where we come from. All that matters is that we’re here now, and I’m here now. Let me be what you need me to be. Stop pushing me away, Aston, ‘cause even though I should let it go I can’t. I’ll always come back.”
His chest heaves with the force of his breath. “I will. I’ll tell you everything. But not today, Megs. Soon. But not today.”
I shut my eyes briefly. “You promise?”
Aston slides a hand up my back, over my shoulder, and cups my chin. He raises my face slightly, bending his down, and I meet his gray eyes. “I promise.”
~
This is a mess.
I smile politely at the guy across the table from me. Date two on Lila’s “Operation Get Megan a Boyfriend” and it’s no better than the first. If I’m honest, it’s even worse.
And it’s not even the guy. No, Callum is lovely. He’s sweet, he’s hot, and he’s funny. He’s pretty much the perfect guy – but he’s not my perfect guy.
“Lila said you were an English major?” he asks, dipping in spoon into the ice-cream in front of him.
“Yeah. I’ve always loved literature so it makes sense to major in it.”
“What do you plan to do when you graduate? I know it’s a while away…” His lips quirk up to the side. “But it’s good to have a plan, you know?”
“Oh – I think I’ll probably end up teaching it.” I shrug. “Maybe I’ll go into publishing, I’m undecided exactly what. I’d like to write a book one day, though. What about you?” I don’t really care. I’m just asking because I’m not rude.
“I hope to get into Harvard Med. It’s not easy to do, but I’m on the right track.”
Well done, Lila. Not only do you set me up with a junior, you pick the one that’s planning on going to the opposite side of the country in eighteen months.
“Wow. Quite the goal.” I smile.
“Hey – yours isn’t bad. At least you get to do what you love. My career choice is largely influenced by my family.”
“Oh.” Awkward. “It can’t be that bad, right? Or you wouldn’t do it?”
“No, it’s my second choice career, so it’s not hard.”
“What was your first?” Oh, God. I’m acting too interested, aren’t I?
Aston walks past the window and he double-takes. My eyes flick towards him and I’m aware of Callum talking but I can’t really hear him. I’m too focused on the clenching of Aston’s fists and tightening of his jaw. He’s pissed.
Really pissed.
“Megan?” Callum waves a hand in front of my face, and I look back at him.
“I’m sorry – I just saw a friend I’ve been trying to call. It’s kind of important.” I inwardly flinch at my own lie. “Do you mind if I run after him?”
“Um, sure. Not at all.”
“I’m so sorry.” I get up from the table and put a bill down. “Here – towards lunch. I’m sorry.”
I run out of the diner and after Aston, turning the same corner he did to leave the downtown area. I get to the end of the street and sigh, looking around. I can’t see him or his car – and I have no idea when I’ll get a chance to explain why he saw me having lunch with some other guy.
Damn Lila and Maddie and their stupid ideas!
I turn, deciding that since I bailed on Callum heading back to campus is my best decision… And probably texting Aston would be a good idea. Damn secrecy…
I’m pulled down an alley, my back pressing against cold bricks and held there by the weight of another person leaning against me. I recognize the gray eyes in front of me before panic sets in, and I force myself to relax.
“Do you make it a habit of sneaking up on girls?” I mutter.
“Only you,” he responds. “But I’ll be honest – I wasn’t expecting to come downtown and find you having lunch with another f*cking guy.”
“Aston-”
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t pissed, but then we’re not exactly exclusive so I guess-”
“Lila set it up,” I blurt out, silencing him. “She has this crazy idea that I need a boyfriend, and is setting me up with guys she thinks Braden will be okay with. I can’t refuse or she’ll know something is up. I just turn up, talk, and that’s it. I don’t even give them my number. It’s all fake.”
His body relaxes, tightness leaving his muscles, and he pulls me from the wall into his body. His hand on the back of my head presses my face into his neck, and the way his arm is wound tightly around me body let me know he wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t want to lose me.
And this wasn’t anger. This was fear – of that exact thing happening.
I wrap my arms around his waist, holding him tightly.
“I don’t know why I thought…” he trails off. “I’m such a f*cking dick. I’m sorry, Megs.”
“It’s okay.” I kiss his neck softly. “I probably would have thought the same if it was the other way around.”
“No, baby, it’s not f*cking okay. I can’t accuse you of that shit just because of my own issues-”
“You didn’t accuse me of anything.” I pull back, looking into his eyes. “If it was the other way around, I probably would have gone in there and ripped out her extensions.”
He smirks. “I don’t know how I didn’t go in there and knock him out.”
I run my fingertips across his back. “I don’t know how you did it either. I hate even seeing other girls look at you,” I say quietly.
“If Braden was anyone other than my best friend…” he shakes his head. “I’d tell him, but it ain’t that damn easy.” He sighs heavily. “I guess we’re just gonna have to deal with Lila’s bullshit plan and get on with it.”
“But what if it’s obvious? That there’s a bigger reason I’m turning them down?”
“Then we cross that bridge together when we get there.”
“There’s only so many guys that can’t be my type.”
“Listen here.” He turns my face so it’s against his, our noses brushing. “There’s only one f*cking guy you need to worry about being your type, so every other dick can take a running jump off a cliff. In case you need reminding of that, baby, here’s your reminder.”
His lips crash into mine, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth possessively. He runs it along the length of mine forcefully, his hands pulling me ever closer to him. My own slide up his back, gripping onto his shoulders, and I let him claim me. I know this is what he needs, and the deepness of his kiss that tugs on my lower stomach muscles proves me right.
“I think I’m good on the reminder,” I whisper as he pulls away, pressing our cheeks together. “But any time you feel the need to remind me fully…”
His fingers dig into my back. “Any time I feel the need to remind you fully…” He turns his face, his lips barely touching my ear. “It’ll be a reminder you’ll never f*cking forget.”