"Papa! Papa! Pomozi nam!"
It's the third shelling this week. We haven't been able to take the trip to get water since last Thursday. Mama says we can't have baths until things calm down. We're almost out of candles, so every night at sunset I cry in fear of the dark. And this time, the bombing is coming in the dark...
Suddenly, I was on the move, but not under my own power. Those arms were still around me, holding me fast against a hard, broad chest. I could feel William's warm breath on my wet face.
"I'm sorry, sir. You can't go in this way--"
"We're going back inside," he said with fierce determination. "She's frightened by the fireworks."
The voices sounded so far away, and all I could think of was whether or not I was strong enough to draw my next breath. Amazing how sounds could carry you straight back to your worst nightmare, and when they did, that's all you could hear or see. It was like I was there again, in that small apartment, trying to call out to Maja, her not answering me. The smell of plaster and old wallpaper paste invading my nostrils.
"Follow me through the exit," a voice said.
The booming, cracking and popping continued, but the terrifying sounds were fading. I peeled my eyelids open just enough to see that we were once again inside the exit room of the Haunted Mansion.
William spoke quietly and kissed my hair. I nestled against him with a whimper, unwilling to be a grownup just yet. Closing my eyes, I pressed my cheek to his collarbone. "Wil..."
"Hold on to me for as long as you need," he whispered against my ear. I was barely aware of the crowd filing past us. The thudding of my own heart and the desperation of my own breath were the only sounds I could hear.
"Please don't let go," I said through my chattering teeth.
"I won't. I won't ever."
"Can--can we just stay here 'til they stop?"
There was some more discussion with someone I couldn't see, and then William was speaking against my ear again. "The fireworks should be over in about six minutes."
"Thank the goddess," I said.
"Do you want to stand now?"
"No...if that's okay with you."
"You're no heavier than my armor. It's okay with me."
"Thank you so much." I relished the feel of his solid arms around me, his hard chest pressed against my cheek. Relaxing, I closed my eyes.
I could stay here and let him hold me for a week, though his arms would surely break off by then. He would probably try it anyway. I smiled at that thought.
"I hardly did anything," he replied.
I forced a small laugh. "We were coming here today to help you, and you ended up helping me."
He paused for a moment, then asked quietly, "Are you okay now?"
I nodded, that foggy feeling of old memories fading away along with the panic. "I'd forgotten all about the fireworks show. I'm usually either inside a shop or attraction, or over in the other park, California Adventure, where the fireworks are farther away. It brings back a lot of memories. Bad memories."
"Is that what the shelling sounded like?"
Now that the booming had faded, I could think more objectively about what happened, talk about it like I always did--as if it had happened to someone else. "They sounded almost exactly like that. And I still hear them sometimes in my nightmares." I blew out a breath. "Every day we'd hear about a neighbor or friend whose house had been completely destroyed. It felt like you were a sitting duck, waiting for your own doom."
William kissed my hair again and I melted against him. And apparently, once I'd started talking, I couldn't shut up.
"And snipers...there were snipers too. One day we were at a park and Zora, my sister's best friend, was shot. Just out of the blue. Right in front of us. She was dead in minutes. I didn't even know what had happened, and Mama wouldn't tell me."
His arms tightened around me, and I realized in that moment that I didn't want him to let go, even though I was now past my initial panic. It felt too good. He wasn't saying anything, which prompted me to continue.
"One night, the building next to where we lived was bombed. The ceiling in the bedroom where my sister and I slept caved in. We were buried under plaster. It wasn't serious and we weren't injured, but it was terrifying. I just remember feeling like I was going to die. There was no electricity and everything was pitch black. All I could hear was my sister breathing and whimpering. That was the final straw for my parents."
"But you made it through," he said, kissing my hair again. "You're safe. You're here now."
I shook my head. "I can't believe how that one thing--hearing those fireworks--can take me straight back to that night."
"War is a terrible thing. Especially for children."
I looked up at him. The noise outside had died down, but we didn't move. Then I leaned forward and kissed him, long and deep. When we finally came up for air, his face was flushed. "You were my champion again, Wil. Thank you."
He was silent but smiling, looking very satisfied with himself.
I returned the smile. "If I give you the quest to take me on It's a Small World, would you?"
He frowned. "No dancing dolls. A man has his limits."
"Want to go home then?" I ask.
"Yes."
"Good. Your place or mine?"
"You're trying to seduce me, aren't you?"
I shrugged. "You'll give in sooner or later. A man does have his limits, just as you said. I'm not going to change my stance."
His arms tightened around me. "Neither am I."
My chin came up. I was rising to the challenge. "So I guess the person who is the most stubborn will win out?"
"It seems that way."
We left shortly after that and shared a quiet drive home. William pulled up to my curb, but I didn't get out right away. A half-hour--and a heated make-out session--later, I got out of the car, admitting temporary defeat in my quest to get him upstairs.
Normally, he would have walked me to my door, but tonight, I noticed that he didn't even offer.
Maybe I was getting closer than I thought.
Chapter 20
William
She really has no idea how close she is.
I'm trying to hide it, but every time it's getting harder and harder to say no.
Because as I spend time with her, I realize that she's more than a beautiful face and a lovely body. She's strength and compassion. She's a fierce advocate for those who can't stand up for themselves.
And she cares. The last time I was at her house, I noticed a copy of Thinking In Pictures by Temple Grandin in her room. Grandin is a well-known spokesperson for people with autism, because she herself has Aspergers and has succeeded greatly in her chosen field. Without even saying anything to me, Jenna had obtained a copy of her book to read. I can only assume it's so that she'll have a better understanding of how my brain works.
But is it just a means to an end? Does she want her tiara back so badly that she's willing to do anything to help me get it for her? And if so, where does that leave me once I succeed?
These are a few of the questions I'm considering while training with my European martial arts instructor the following Saturday. As usual, Adam has come to help out. He usually stays for an hour, but today he's here longer because Jordan has decided to join us. And as much as I hate to admit it, Jordan is surprisingly good for a beginner. He has amazing balance from his years on a surfboard, and he is likely a natural athlete, whereas I am not. I've had to train and work hard to compensate.
We're taking a water break when Jordan asks me how things are going with Jenna. I shoot him a sidelong glance as I wipe my face with a towel. I have no idea what Jordan's motive is based on his tone of voice. Even though I've known him a long time, Jordan is harder for me to read than others.
I'm tempted to ignore him and tell him to go away because I'm still angry with him, but I remember the recent talk that I had with Adam.
"She's helping with my enochlophobia."
He frowns
. "Ah," he says as if he understands, though I know he doesn't. "Hopefully her help involves multiple orgasms?"
I shake my head. "Nope, no orgasms."
"You, uh, need any help in that department?"
I grimace at him. "Not from you."
He starts laughing. "No, not--uh." When he looks at my face and likely notes my disgust, he starts laughing even harder. "I wasn't offering."
Adam rejoins our group after a trip to the bathroom. "What's so funny?" he asks Jordan.
"Just coaching our young protege here in the ways of women."
Adam's eyes widen and he turns to me. "Don't listen to anything he says. His advice is shit."
Jordan flips his middle finger at Adam and turns to me. "So, you're interested in going there with her, right?"
"Going where?" I ask. Jordan and Adam exchange a look.
"He means sex, Liam."
"Oh. I'm interested, but it's not going to happen."
Adam frowns. "Wait, why not?"
"Because she'll be leaving to travel with the Ren Faire at the end of June."
"But that's over two months away. A lot can happen in that amount of time." Adam grinned. "A lot of fun stuff."
"That actually sounds like the perfect starter set to me," Jordan says. "Get in there, get it done. Enjoy yourselves, and since there's a known expiration date to the whole thing, there's no baggage...no wondering if or when it's going to get serious or when to cut things off."
Adam shakes his head at Jordan. "Damn, dude, you really were jaded before you got yourself shackled down."
"Says the guy with his own string of friends-with-benefits lined up before he got himself shackled down."
"Shut up," Adam orders and turns back to me. "So, Liam, assuming you're not seeing this all as a strategic maneuver like our cynical friend here...she's bound to come back eventually, right? Or maybe if you start something good, she won't leave."
That had been my thought as well, but I wasn't about to have intercourse with Jenna before I got her commitment that she would stay. "You think I should go there, even if she hasn't committed yet?"
Adam blinks. "This isn't 1899, Liam. You don't need a commitment to go to bed with a woman, as long as she's willing--"
"And of age," inserts Jordan. We both turn and stare at him. He looks from one of us to the other. "What? Some of those young ones look a lot older than they really are."
Adam shakes his head and turns back to me. "Anyway. There's no harm in opening that door, you know."
I frown for a moment--images of a sliding glass door, the front door of my house, a screen door all flick my mind in quick succession. "I doubt I can be casual about this."
Jordan puts his hand on my shoulder. When I flinch and glare at it, he quickly slides it away. "You're a healthy, red-blooded, twenty-something male. You need to go there...and soon."
I look at Adam to see if he's shrugging off Jordan's comment, but he isn't. Instead, he's nodding in agreement. "If she's willing--and I'm guessing she is--you should go for it. Consider it a new life experience, if nothing else."
"Yes." Jordan nods. "Live in the now, William. Carpe Diem."
A whistle blows and we return to the floor. We fight using metal practice swords and under-armor padding, but after a while we grow hot and sweaty, so we switch to lighter bamboo swords and take off our shirts. I'm getting a lot of good experience with Jordan, or "Southpaw" as Adam jokingly calls him because of his left-handedness.
I'm soundly beating him, getting in three or four hits to every one of his. He curses up a storm when I hit him in the ribs or waist, and Adam laughs until it's my turn to fight him. Then he doesn't laugh so much.
I'm doing great, as a matter of fact, not even distracted by the weirdness of my cousin and Jordan giving me sex advice. That is, until the women come back from wherever they've been to watch the end of training.
I'm embarrassed because we all have our shirts off and they're making comments about the "amazing view." April even whistles when Jordan flexes his biceps at her, then he asks, "Young lady, have you bought your tickets to the gun show?" Whatever that means.
As for me, I'm quickly getting red marks all over my chest as Adam and Jordan get back at me for clobbering them earlier.
"You lost your mojo, man," says Jordan.
"I'm just a little...distracted."
Jordan casts a glance in the direction where Jenna sits watching us. "Yeah, I picked up on that."
Later, as we are getting dressed in the locker room, Adam comes up to me and, with a warning, puts his hand on my shoulder. "You need to get laid, Liam. Get on that, okay? It might even help your fight." And with that, he places a wrapped condom in my hand.
Jordan, seeing this, nods. "Hey, I've got something for round two." He pulls his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and extracts a condom. Then he unzips his gym bag and pulls out another one. From his sunglasses case, he removes yet another one, then hands me all three. "I don't need these anymore."
Adam scoffs at him and he shrugs. "April's on birth control now. But back when I was using them, I liked to be prepared." He winked.
"Jackass," Adam mutters.
"You just hate it when I one-up you. Or in this case, two-up you." Jordan laughed all the way out the door.
I'm thinking a lot about their advice as I drive home with Jenna, aching and sore from the vigorous workout. She's coming to my house for the afternoon to strategize about more exercises to work on and places to go. I'm not happy about the thought--Disneyland was enough of a challenge--but I'm also determined to see this through.
I went from hardly knowing a thing about fighting to nearly defeating Doug at something he'd been working at for years. I could do this, too. I wouldn't rest until Jenna had her tiara back in her hands.
Which, come to think of it, she hasn't mentioned lately. So as we sit beside each other on the couch in my living room, I ask her why.
She shrugs. "I just don't think you need that added pressure."
I frown, thinking about that. "Pressure is good. It forces me to work harder."
She cocks her head, watching me. "Why do you insist on being so hard on yourself? Is it that worthiness thing again? You feel like you're not worthy? Because you seem incredibly worthy from where I'm sitting."
I smile. "My worthiness changes based on where you're sitting?"
She laughs. "You are a very funny man, you know that, William? A very funny, sweet, and gorgeous man."
God, how I want to kiss her right now. But instead, I settle against the couch, lean my head back and look up at the ceiling while letting out a groan.
"You okay?" she asks. "You keep rubbing your neck and groaning every time you shift in your seat."
I shrug, embarrassed to tell her that Jordan and Adam beat me down so much that I ache now. "Just a little sore."
"You're sore all over?" she asks. There's a look on her face that I think might be concern, but it's a weird sort of smile.
"Well, not all over--just in certain muscle groupings."
"Muscle groupings? Like where? Show me."
"Well, there's my right shoulder..."
Before I can point to it, she reaches over and brushes her fingertips on my sore shoulder. "Here?"
"Yes."
She leans toward me and I can't help but smell her. It makes my chest tingle whenever I smell that cinnamon scent, and before I realize what she's doing, she kisses my shoulder. My gaze drops as she pulls back to look at my face and says, "Is that all?"
Without thinking about what I'm going to say--like I've been warned so many times that I should do--I blurt out, "What are you doing?"
"I'm kissing it better." She appears serious, but sometimes she looks that way when she's being sarcastic.
"You don't seriously believe that that will make it feel better." She must be teasing me again. Kissing boo-boos is what mothers do for their small children.
She smiles widely, showing a row of even, white teeth. "It can't hurt, can
it?"
I frown, confused. "Of course it won't hurt, but--"
"Wil, just show me. Where else does it hurt?"
I hesitate. "Well, my arm hurts, too."
"Upper arm?" Her fingers press against the exact arm in question. Then she bends and trails kisses from my shoulder down to my elbow. When she makes contact with my bare skin, it feels like icy fire. That's the only way to describe it. It burns and freezes at the same time. I'm completely aware of every cell of her soft lips that touches the cells of my skin.
My mouth is dry and the region below my belt is feeling uncomfortable.
"Does the soreness stop there?" she says, slowly raising her head to look at me. I notice her face is flushed, like that day we were in my weight room with our shirts off. The day when I touched her breasts and sucked on her nipples, and she made those sounds deep in her throat.
Now she's trailing more kisses across the inside of my arm, from my elbow to my wrist. She takes my hand in both of hers and brings my palm to her mouth, opening her lips to land hot kisses there.
I can't breathe. Well, of course I'm breathing or else I'd pass out, but it definitely feels more difficult to do so.
She peeks up at me. "Any other injured areas?"
I'm frozen because I really want to lie to her and make up injured areas. I want her mouth and her hands everywhere. I suddenly feel as if I need them everywhere.
"Um..." I casually point to the base of my neck, remembering how good it felt the last time she kissed me there. With a smile, she leans forward, planting a hot, open-mouth kiss, her tongue snaking out to lick my skin. My heartbeat speeds up. When she pulls away, the place where she kissed feels cold.
My hands move to her back, holding her in place. One of those little sighs escapes her lips and it streaks like lightning right down my spine.
I'm hard as cold-forged steel and have to adjust how I'm sitting in order to relieve the pressure. It feels good and painful all at once. I want this to last for hours, and I want it to end at the same time.
"Does your mouth hurt?"
I suddenly remember the famous scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark when Marion is trying to comfort Indiana Jones. She asks him where it doesn't hurt, and as he points out body parts, she kisses them. They're on a ship, kissing, and suddenly it fades to black, but you know that they had sex and it's not being shown to the viewer.
And even though I didn't respond, Jenna is kissing me on the mouth now, just like Marion kissed Indy. And just like Indy, I'm not pushing her away. Neither of us are idiots, after all. We both know a good thing when it's happening to our lips.