“I want you.”
“You already have me.” He stepped towards me. “I’m right here.”
I shook my head. “I want more than you just being there. I want all of you. I don’t want you to hold yourself back.”
“Okay.”
“No, you don’t understand. What I want is for you to accept the way I feel about you and be okay with it. Then—” I laughed, even though it didn’t sound like a laugh because it wasn’t funny—it was stupid. “Then I want you to tell me you feel the same, and I want it to be the truth. But it doesn’t matter what I want because I can’t have it. It’s not anybody’s fault and admitting it doesn’t change anything. So, in terms of things I want that are possible, I guess…I guess I want you to be okay.”
“That’s a lot of things.”
“You asked. I answered.”
“How would you answer if I told you I want to open doors for you and pull out your chair and bring you breakfast in bed and spend hours getting pruney in the tub watching that shit you call television, just as long as my arms are around you?”
“I’d probably say, ‘As incredible as that sounds’”—my next breath was broken—“‘it’s not enough.’” A relationship would never work with as much inequality as we had. I’d always want more, and I’d always be disappointed.
“Then I’d say, ‘Shut up, Lane, because I’m not done. Because I want to wake up next to you every morning and make love to you every night. I want to protect you and make you understand that you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.’ I’ve known you were ever since you told me to fuck off in the coffee shop, but I was afraid to say it. Because if I said it out loud, you might realize I was right and that you could do so much better than me, you deserved so much better than me and what I could offer.”
“Cars—”
“Then I’d tell you to shut up again, because there’s some stuff I need to say, and if I stop talking now I’ll chicken out. Stuff like how, at first, it was easy not to tell you how I felt because I’d never felt it before and didn’t know what it was or what to call it. Then it was hard not to tell you because you deserved the truth even if it made you run for the hills. So that means I did do something wrong and I haven’t always been honest. And for that I’m sorry. What would you say then?”
“I…I don’t know what I would say.”
“Then I guess I would have to come up with something to cover the awkward silence. And even though I’d really want to fill it by kissing you, I’d probably feel like that was a bit presumptuous after all the horrible things I’ve done to you. So I might try something else.”
“Like what?”
“Like maybe telling you that—” He took a step towards me. “Can I touch you, Lane? Just…just…your arm or your shoulder or…your cheek?”
I wanted to say yes so badly, but I knew one touch would turn into something neither of us could control. We’d end up in bed with nothing solved or different, and it would keep happening. And a month from now, I would wake up knowing that sleeping with someone you love is a terrible thing to do when that love isn’t returned.
“It’s okay,” he said, nodding, understanding what my silence meant. “It’s okay, Lane. You don’t owe me anything.” When I moved to go around him, he deliberately stepped in front of me, his hands tucked in his back pockets. “But I’m going to take it anyway because I’m still a selfish prick, and I can’t let you walk out that door.”
I stood there like an idiot, tears running down my face, not knowing what to do because it had taken all my strength just to start walking. And now all that strength and the little bit of momentum I’d had was gone, so I was stuck standing there in front of him, waiting for…for something that would never happen. “Can you please just let me leave?”
“No, not like this. Not yet.” Staring straight at me, he mumbled something. He said it again, a little louder this time, his head bowed forward. “Because I haven’t worked up enough courage to tell you I’m in love with you yet.”
“What?”
He blew out a breath and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m in love with you, Lane. And it feels— Well, I can’t honestly say it feels good right now because I’m really nervous about how you’re gonna react. But it feels right, and I don’t want it to stop.”
“Do you really mean that?”
“I don’t say things I don’t mean.” So quiet, so still.
I didn’t want to move before he did but nothing could stop my heart from pounding even faster and a warmth filling every part of me. Just like nothing could stop the stupid amount of tears that were sliding down my cheeks or the sudden peace I felt knowing I wasn’t going to hurt anymore, because we would be okay.
I could tell he was afraid to look at me and couldn’t stop his body from trembling. “Come here.” My heart skipped when he obeyed me, something he’d never been particularly good at. He stopped about two feet in front of me. “Closer.” Again he obeyed. “Look at me.” He swallowed, raising his head, his eyes shy and unsure. “Now say it again.”
“Aw, come on.”
“Say it again, Carson.”
He let out his breath really slowly, maybe to give himself time. “I love you. Every part of you, not just the parts I’ve already told you I love. I need you to be in my life, Lane. Permanently.”
It took me a minute to speak because I’d never, ever expected this moment. So I had to think about what it meant and what would happen. After I did, I smiled. Because I wasn’t afraid. I didn’t need to be, not anymore.
“Then you’d better be really, really good to me.”
“I can do that.” He kissed me gently, only our lips touching.
If we were both waiting for the other to make a move, we were going to be here all day. I cradled his face in both of my hands and deepened the kiss, felt him respond, relax, and then want more. As good as kissing him had always been, it felt even better than I remembered, as if he’d stopped holding back the last tiny bit of himself.
“You really love me?” I asked, lifting my chin so he could reach my neck more easily.
“Yeah, I really do.”
“Show me how much.”
He picked me up and walked across the bedroom, pulling my sandals off along the way. “I can’t believe I almost screwed this up, Lane.” But instead of lying me down on the bed, he kept walking. “I can’t believe it.”
I jolted when I felt him set me down on my feet inside the bathtub and turn the faucet on. “What are you doing?” Without answering, he got in and started pulling off my clothes. It became a race to move faster than the water level raised. When we were in our underwear, he sat down and yanked me onto his lap, wrapping my legs around his waist.
After another kiss, he said, “Your lips will be on mine for the foreseeable future, so if you have anything to say, say it now.”
“Does this mean I get to use your bathtub whenever I want to?”
He laughed. “Our bathtub. And only if you leave me a little room.”
“Doable. I want another drawer.”
“I’ll give you four, but no more than that. ’Cause that’s all I have.”
“I could probably be convinced to share.” I swallowed. “I don’t want to separate sex and love.”
“Good. Because you’ll never need to.” He ran his fingertips along my jaw, stopping to cup my chin so I couldn’t turn away. “When I tell you that you’re beautiful and I love you and you’re my world, it’s because it’s true.”
“Thank you.” My lips brushed his. “When I tell you to go get me a drink, it’s because you need to get me a drink.”
“Okay, that’s it—no more talking for you.”
We stopped laughing, only because it kept us from kissing. And feeling. And loving.
there was a woman who, though not stunningly beautiful, thought herself to be. Because she was in love with a man who made her feel that way. And despite himself, he was in love with her.
After all of the p
rinces who’d turned into frogs and had damaged the woman’s heart, it took a man who was not a prince to mend it. And in return, she mended his. For even though he’d long believed himself the lowest of creatures, he wasn’t. His heart was locked away, deep inside of him, and he had never allowed anyone in for fear they would discover how truly ugly it was.
But what he didn’t know was that his heart was pure and beautiful and strong. And all he needed was the right woman to unlock it and set him free…with a kiss.
Please keep reading to learn more about book two in this series, how to get a free novella, and how to hear about my new releases
~
If you enjoyed Darker Water, please consider leaving a review. Each review helps get the novel in front of other potential readers and is greatly appreciated. Seriously, for an author, there is no greater gift than when you leave a review or tell a friend about our book. Well okay, there might be a few greater gifts (convertibles, trips to Vegas, pool boys, etc.), but reviews and telling your friends about the book are right up there.
None of us are alone
According to the CDC, an average of 24 people per minute are victims of rape, physical violence, or stalking by their partner, in the US alone. That’s over 12 million women and men per year. More than 1 in 3 women (35.6%) and 1 in 4 men (28.5%) will experience this type of violence in their lifetime.
If you are involved in an abusive relationship, there are so many people who want to help you. But they can’t help if they don’t know. You have to tell someone. You have to ask for help. You aren’t alone.
Call the National Domestic Violence Hotline or the hotline in your country
1.800.799.SAFE (7233)
www.thehotline.org
Virtually Impossible
Once & Forever #2
~ Coming early 2015 ~
Once and Forever will be a series of at least seven stand-alone novels. Each story uses a theme or symbol from a fairytale, but only as a starting point. Because while fairytales aren’t real, love is.
Virtually Impossible is Hayden’s story, and this how his fairytale begins:
there was a woman who made the mistake of trusting the wrong man. And that mistake led to another. And another and another, each more damaging than the last. But the woman was as ignorant of her mistakes as she was of the damage they caused. Until she was punished for them. But because all knew she'd acted out of youth and naiveté, imagined love and true stupidity, her punishment was not grave.
However the woman believed she had not paid enough for what she'd done and how stupid she had been. So the punishment she gave herself was far, far more severe. She locked herself behind glass, only coming out from behind it when she was forced to, which wasn't often. And the longer she stayed behind the glass, the safer she fel,t until she didn't see it as a prison at all. Until she loved it for its beauty and depended on it for its clarity.
For you see, her cage was made from one-way glass and the mirror faced out, so the woman never had to look upon her own reflection. And when she saw the world beyond the glass, things were clear and simple and fair, for she was not part of the world but separate from it. And from behind the glass, there was nothing hidden from her and everything to hide behind.
Day after day she toiled, working hard to repay the wrong she'd unwittingly done and the people she'd unwittingly hurt. And thus she was so focused that she didn't notice how the glass pressed in on her, how stagnant and lifeless the air became. And when she finally realized, it didn't matter anymore, for she knew the tiny box was what she justly deserved for believing the lies told to her. So of her own volition, she remained behind the glass, knowing that one day she would have no more mistakes to make, no one left to hurt, no more sins to pay for, and no more air to breathe.
~
Look for Virtually Impossible early next year, and sign up for my newsletter to hear when it will be available for pre-order, when it will be released, and more about the other books in this series.
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[email protected] Lauren’s Other Titles
(Paranormal)
Unseen, The Heights Vol. 1
Hyde Trilogy
Hyde, an Urban Fantasy
Jekyll, Book II
Strange Case, Book III
The Complete Hyde Series Box Set
Second Bite
(Humorous mystery)
No Experience Required, a Summer Rains novel
About Me
Lauren Stewart lives in Northern California with two of the most amazing children that the world has ever seen. She reads almost every genre so, naturally, her writing reflects that. With every book, every story, you'll find elements of other genres—fantasy, mystery, romance, paranormal, suspense, YA, women's literature, all with a touch of humor because what doesn't kill us should make us laugh.
Table of Contents
Darker Water
None of us are alone
Virtually Impossible
Contact Lauren
Lauren’s Other Titles
About Me
Lauren Stewart, Darker Water
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