“I’ve changed my mind, I won’t forgive you.” I look at him as he says this and he’s smirking down at me, his words causing a pit to form in my stomach. “Not until you answer a few questions I have, and no bullshit either. I want the truth.” I nod nervously, as my heart thumps and my skin flushes.
“Okay, first question. Why do you hate yourself so much?” I look away, hating that he’s asking me this. “It may be hard, but I expect eye contact. It’s easier to tell if you’re lying that way.” I gulp hard before locking my eyes on him, considering his question.
“I don’t hate myself.” He raises an eyebrow and I hurry to continue. “At least, not as much as I used to. I think it all started when people used to ask why I looked so different compared to my mom and sister, and when word of the adoption came out, I felt like an outsider. I think that’s why I compare myself to Poppy so much, and put her on an impossible pedestal that no person could ever live up to.” I take a haggard breath and I can’t stop my eyes from dropping down, but he says nothing. I appreciate it more than I can say.
“I felt like I had to compete for my mom’s affection. It wasn’t anything she did, but I got it into my head that if I wasn’t the perfect daughter, if I didn’t follow the rules, wasn’t polite and well behaved, then she would give me back. I know she wouldn’t, but the idea formed not long after I arrived, and it stuck. I was so scared she would abandon me and I would end up with a family who wasn’t as kind, that I made it impossible to live up to my own expectations.” I don’t realize tears have fallen until his thumb brushes across my cheek, and wipes them away.
“My sister used to tease me when I was little, saying I looked like a ghost, and for a while, she went around calling me Casper. Then she would get me to do her chores and threaten to get me in trouble if I didn’t. I don’t know why I thought she was so perfect because looking back, she was mean to me. Mom never saw it, Poppy was smart enough to do it when she wouldn’t be caught, and she knew I would never snitch on her. It got easier as I got older, but then I started high school and I was ridiculed, and bullied every chance they got. I was awkward, unsociable, and I struggled to make connections with people. The kids thought I was an easy target, and they were right.” My breathing is becoming more labored, and his thumb continues to stroke soothing circles across my hand, still pressed against his cheek. “Poppy taught me how to throw a punch and defend myself, and I saw her as my knight in shining armor. It helped, and they backed off, but the name calling only got worse. They started calling me Casper as well and reminded me daily how ugly and freakish I looked. No matter where I went, they would point, stare, laugh, and remind me I didn’t belong anywhere. It got to me more that I would let them see, and the day I graduated was amazing because I knew it was all over.”
“Shit, Luna, that’s fucked up. You know they were full of shit though, right? You are far from ugly. This is going to sound vain, but I’m not attracted to uglies.” He’s right, it is vain. It doesn’t stop me from smiling, though. “Okay, the other thing I want to know is if I affect you even a fraction of the way you affect me?” He moves, so he’s in front of me, my hand falling down into my lap.
“Yes, you affect me. I try to ignore it though because of the way you are. Power and money don’t mean anything to me, and I find it hard to be around someone who doesn’t know how to treat people with decency and respect. It doesn’t mean that being around you isn’t hard, I’ve thought about the way you kiss me, the things you’ve said, and it equally terrifies and excites me.” I cover my face and he grips my wrists to pull them away.
“You don’t stammer as much when you’re around me, you know, and I can’t see myself being different around people. This is the way I am. Although, I can try to be more of my alter ego for you, if you’ll give me the chance. All bets are off in the bedroom though.” He winks at me, and I shake my head and throw an eye roll in for good measure.
“You had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?” I say with a laugh as the butterflies flutter and take flight within me.
“Oh, my Star, I haven’t ruined a damn thing.” He grips my knees before thrusting them open, then he’s leaning over me, his chest pushing into mine, and my back firmly leaning against the wall. His hand fists in my hair before he pulls my head back, eliciting a shiver in me, and a whimper of pain. His eyes are heat filled, and he looks like he’s one second from devouring me whole.
His mouth fuses with mine, his tongue slipping inside before I can react. He glides it across my teeth, then my lip is in his mouth, and he bites down before he pulls away. My head is yanked back even further, as he slides his tongue across the column of my neck. Trailing kisses across my collarbone, and up to the spot just behind my ear. He moves away once more, and his breath fans across my face. He gives me one last lingering kiss, and then he’s on his feet, and pulling me up onto mine.
“I can accept what I draw out in you. There’s a reason why I didn’t want to be your first, my Star, and believe me, that was because I do care about you.”
He moves toward the stairs and I hesitate; he looks at me with a question in his eyes and I take a minute to decide if I should speak my musings out loud or not.
“I don’t think you did it, Emmet. Hurting those girls, but it sure as heck looks like you did. Be careful, okay?”
“Don’t worry about me, Luna. I can handle whatever else they try to throw my way.” He gives me one last wink before he walks down the stairs. I’m not far behind him before I join back up with Darius, and he escorts me back to my room so I can wait for Tucker.
What the fuck just happened? It was only supposed to be an apology.
Tucker isn’t back yet, and I guess now is as good a time as any, as I hold the door open in a silent invitation to Darius. He hesitates for a split second before he walks inside, and I close the door behind him. He takes a seat in the recliner and I sit on the sofa, angling myself so I can face him. Neither of us speak, I wonder if he feels the tension and awkwardness that is barreling around inside me.
“So,” we both say together and a nervous laugh fills the silence.
“Look, I know you’re here for another year. I can’t even pretend to understand what you’re feeling, and what happened that night was probably because of the adrenaline.” He pauses for a moment and I don’t know if I want him to tell me that he regrets it or if that would be the worst thing in the world to hear right now. “I know it shouldn’t have happened, but I need you to know that I don’t regret it. No matter what you say, that won’t change. It’s been a long time since I felt comfortable to be myself around someone, but there’s something about you that makes me relax and hate myself a little less for all the mistakes I’ve made.”
I’m quiet for a couple of minutes, digesting his words and waiting to make sure he doesn’t have anything else to add.
“I’ve tried not to think about what happened between us.” His eyes shutter at my words, and I rush to continue before he gets the wrong idea. “It hasn’t worked, every time I look at you, I remember the way it felt between us, and how I regret it as much as I don’t.”