Chapter 13 Hope #2
Heath chuckles dryly and pulls away from me to look me in the eye. “She left me.”
Disappointment, anger and sadness swirl in his gaze and for the first time I see a glimpse of his vulnerability in full force. Most of the time he keeps his emotions locked and hidden under his hard exterior but there are moments when they break through and escape.
I live for those moment because I get to know him more.
And if there’s anything that I want more in life, it is to read Heath better than I read books.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, changing the subject. “You only ate fries in lunch.”
“I’m okay,” I say.
He shakes his head and makes me sit on the couch. “I’m going to grab some snacks, you open those bags and start on the bracelets.”
In a second he is out of the door as if he knew that I’d protest and ask him to not get me anything.
A smile appears on my lips.
I’m not going to find a guy like Heath again in my life. My mother was wrong. People who are special don't come into your life so often. They are like shooting stars. Gone in a blink of an eye.
Try not falling in love with him.
I can do it.
I stand up to move to the floor when something catches my eye. There are cardboard boxes sitting in front of the large flat screen and TV unit where his gaming console is.
Curiosity piques my interest but I dismiss it. If he wants to tell me what's inside he will.
“Do you like stir fry and rice?” Heath closes the door, holding a large tray. “If you want something else, I can order takeout.”
“No, it’s fine. I like stir fry.”
Heath sets down the try on the table and joins me on the floor.
“You look sad.”
I start to deny but stop myself.
Talk to him more about yourself.
“It’s my favourite. Mom used to make it for me on nights she’d be at home. It was the best.” My smile is sad when I add, “I haven’t had it in months. She’s rarely home and also, Dad spends time with her now.”
I’m not jealous, just upset that things are changing and I can’t keep up. Mom and I used to be so close and now it’s like there’s a wall between us and I can’t reach her anymore. With Dad moving back home, she’s gotten even more far away from me.
I know she can be strict and manipulative at times, but I still love her and want her. The reason is she stuck with me all those years when no one did. With her I didn’t feel truly alone. I felt like I had someone.
“You sound like you miss her.” Heath says, seeing right through me.
I nod. “I do. I miss what we had isn’t there anymore.”
He watches me, trying to read me like he always does.
I flush under his scrutinizing gaze and clear my throat. Looking around, I search for a reason to distract him, and that pile of boxes catches my attention.
I have no right to ask him what’s inside those, but I also can’t keep wondering. The last time he had a box in his room it contained books.
My favourite books. The Harry Potter series.
Luckily I had those slid under my bed, so they escaped Dad’s wrath. But the books he did destroy were those that accompanied me for years. I read them whenever I’d feel alone. They held more value to me. And now, they’re gone. I can never put them back together.
I remember we ordered books on his account. I didn’t ask him about it afterwards and I wonder if they arrived or not.
“You should eat. It’s getting cold.” Heath reminds me.
I start on the food and he does too.
One bite and I close my eyes in its delicious taste.
“Kelly is so good at making food.”
“She is. But she sucks at baking.”
“I can relate to that. I don’t know how to bake. I’ve tried but I always mess up.” I take a bite. “But I made great pasta yesterday.”
Heath’s eyes drift up to meet mine as he dives a spoonful into his mouth. The gesture isn’t sexy at all, but it makes my stomach tighten.
“You should have brought some for me,” he says softly.
Surprise hits me so hard, my mind goes blank.
He wants to eat something I make.
Butterflies take a joyful lap inside my belly, filling me with an exciting feeling.
If this happened in a book I’d been squealing and rolling on my bed.
Can’t do that here.
“I…” A shiver rakes through me. “You’d want that?”
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want it, Rose.”
Rose. He’s been calling me that a lot lately.
I don’t have a nickname for him.
I like the name Heath. It suits him perfectly.
However, I rarely call him by his name. It makes me so nervous because when I say his name, all his attention dawns on me and I become the centre of his world. Nothing or no one else exists. Just we do. And I haven’t learnt how to deal with that.
There are so many things that I’m learning. So much that I still have to learn. With him I can do it.
“Is cooking something you like doing?” Heath asks, breaking my chain of thoughts. “I know reading is your favourite thing in the world.”
I grin. “I don’t cook a lot, but Dad…” Instantly, food tastes like rocks in my mouth, but I swallow regardless. “He’s asked me to make dinner every night. I usually go with pasta or spaghetti because it takes less time and I can go to my room.”
I don’t need to spell it out for him to understand what I’m trying to say.
I sneak a glance at him and he looks deadly.
The blue in his eyes has turned a shade darker and his face is twisted in a scowl.
He sets his empty plate on the table and runs a hand through his hair.
I notice the silver rings on his fingers. There’s three on his right hand and two on his left hand. And of course, my bracelet on his left wrist. It’s always there.
“So he makes you work, huh?” he murmurs under his breath, sounding annoyed and mad.
“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” I assure him.
“I fucking do.” He retorts, looking all sorts of grumpy.
“He has a bunch of rules. As long as I follow them, I’m okay.”
Heath’s demeanour changes and I quickly realize I shouldn’t have said that.
“What kind of rules?” he asks in a low voice that shakes all the atoms in the space between us.
I gulp and repeat them to him. He gets stoic with every single one of them. When I finish, he looks like he wants to go on a rampage.
I set aside my now empty plate and move closer to him.
I stare at his hands, wanting to take them and comfort him in some way.
His touch always helps me, but I’m not sure if mine will have the same effect.
“Fuck, just what kind of monster is he?” he grumbles. “I swear, if I see him again, I will fuck him up real bad. He won’t be able to speak, let alone hurt you.”
“No!” I panic. “Don’t do anything. You’ll get into trouble.”
“And I’ve told you that I don’t mind the trouble.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I just don’t want it for you.”
Heath sighs, then shakes his head. “Sometimes, I don’t know what to do.”
“He is staying out for the most day. I haven’t seen him or talked to him.”
The muscle in his jaw ticks.
I’ve only ever read about it in books.
It is hot.
My cheeks burn and I fidget with my hands.
“Do you know why he hurts you?” he asks.
“I don’t.”
“Do you wonder why?”
“I used to think about it a lot, but now I just don’t care.
Whatever the reason is, it doesn’t justify the abuse.
You don’t hurt the people you love. Not everyday and all the time.
I used to love him when I was little. He was good to me.
He’d let me watch TV, take me to the playground with mom and buy me chocolate.
Although, it was a long time ago, I remember it.
It’s like my brain is keeping some good parts of him so I can’t completely hate him.
But I’m trying to. He’s hurt mom, me and you.
I can’t ever forgive him for that. You’re important to me. ”
Heath reaches for my cheek and cups it. “You’re important to me, too. The most important.”
Having him touch me gives me the courage to hug him. Unlike before, when his arms would stick to his sides, now they wrap around me and embrace me like he’d protect me and never let go.
I don’t know what I’d do if I ever have to let him go.
I know I won’t survive.
“If you ever feel like he’s going to hurt you, call me. I will be there for you.”
“You promise you won’t attack him?”
His arms squeeze my waist. “Don’t make me promise that.”
“I need that promise.”
Heath sighs and I can’t help but smile in his chest.
“Fine.”
“We should work on the bracelets. I want to send them tomorrow.”
“Here I thought we’d be doing more boyfriend girlfriend things.”
I meet his gaze. “What things?”
Heath smiles. “You know very well what things.”
Sexual things.
I quickly escape his embrace. “These orders can’t wait.”
Heath laughs and goes to his walk-in closet while I clear the table for us to work.
Of course we’ll be doing those kinda things now.
Why am I getting nervous?
If anything I should be relaxed because I know how everything happens.
I just never thought my smut knowledge would ever be helpful.
I sneak a glance at Heath who’s adjusting the thermostat. He looks nice, great, hot, sexy—I can’t stop drooling over him—in gray sweatpants and black t-shirt. The sight is exquisite and I’m staring unabashedly.
The way his strong and big muscles squeeze into the material of his t-shirt that is too tight and the chest that is hard and packed. I know he has a six pack. I’ve seen it and I think about it often.
My eyes trail down to his sweatpants. Gray sweatpants. He definitely knows what they do to girls. It’s like kryptonite. Also, they hang low on his hips.
Heath frowns when he catches me staring. “Is it still too cold for you?”
I can’t get the words out.
Gray sweatpants.
Gray. Sweatpants.
Gray sweatpants.
This is it. This is how he breaks me. I’ll agree to do anything with him if he asks me wearing those gray sweatpants.
“Rose,” he comes closer. “What’s wrong?”
“Gray sweatpants.” I press my hands to my mouth.
Oh my God.
I just unlocked the secret to him.
He cocks an eyebrow in confusion. “What about them?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly and look at the beads.
Coming closer, he goes down on one knee beside me.
Air gets thick and my breath hitches.
He caresses my cheek and says, “You’re blushing which can only mean one thing.”
“What thing?” I keep working the beads into the string to avoid looking at him.
“You’re thinking about something dirty.”
My head whips in his direction. “No, I’m not.”
The arrogant smirk that dances on his lips says I know you, Rose.
For some strange reason he decides let it go and helps me with bracelets. We make them in silence and it’s the comfortable kind.
Every now and then, his fingers brush against mine or his body leans closer in my direction, and the butterflies in my stomach go in a frenzy. Every little gesture is like a shot of electricity sizzling up all the wires in my system and bringing me to life.
But nothing affects me more than when our eyes lock and it seems like he likes looking at me. As if he finds the mere sight of me is lovely to him and he doesn’t want to ever look away from me.
In all those short glimpses he makes me feel special.