Epilogue
PHOEBE
Days passed.
I felt like an absolute idiot for doing it, but I hardly left my house in fear of seeing Aureo, even to go down the street to the local convenience store.
I had my tubs of ice cream delivered.
That's desperation.
The self-isolation was on a new level, and I knew Echo or my dad were going to behead me if I didn’t speak to them soon, but it was worth it for the time being.
I still didn’t know what to think or feel after the night Aureo and I shared at the Crow Cavern. Wallowing in self-induced pity was better than nothing.
I had spent the past week in nothing but a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt I had owned since I was in high school, burying myself in comfort TV shows like Pretty Little Liars, and consuming far too much ice cream.
In some circumstances, this would be considered self-care, but I knew myself more than that. I knew I was avoiding the reality of my situation.
I was pathetic.
Being with Aureo was the best sex of my life.
Hell, it was the best birthday of my life.
Yet, when I woke up the next morning still wrapped up in his arms on my dad’s couch, I still felt that ownership in a way that made my knees weak and my heart palpitate wildly. And I didn’t know if I was even allowed to feel that way.
We had agreed on one thing. Just for that night.
Then life would go back to normal.
Somehow, my wildest dreams and fantasies had come true all in the matter of a single night, and I ended up wanting to take them back because I wasn’t allowed to feel the happiness I craved the morning after again. Especially because I was the one who told him to fuck off most of the time.
It was a night with a man who was twenty years my senior. And it was with a man who had known me since I was a fragile teenager who begged for attention every day of my life. Why did I want him more than ever now?
What kind of person did that make me? What kind of person did that make us, if there even was an us? Sure, Aureo and I had said some heated things in the moment, but did that make it a reality? Everyone loved dirty talk.
I didn’t even know what being owned felt like. I didn’t even know what genuine romantic love felt like.
I had never allowed anyone close enough.
And there I was, wishing Aureo would do it anyway.
I sighed, scrubbing my forehead in frustration.
Everything was so confusing. I should have just stayed celibate. I was far past the limitation of becoming a nun, but I could have celebrated my birthday with a tattoo and a sprinkle of holy water, right?
A deep huff left me next as I stared at my TV screen. Of course, it was a scene where one of the girls began kissing their teacher, highlighting all the forbidden nature that surrounded me and my current predicament.
Even with those facts, I didn’t really care. It wasn’t like we did anything wrong. We were both more than legal, age-gap relationships were perfectly normalized in our day and age, and kink is only an up-hill conversation.
There was absolutely nothing wrong with what we did.
There was nothing wrong with finding pleasure in someone you never knew you would.
I had to shake myself out of the pit of depression I had somehow fallen into.
It wasn’t like I had been broken up with. I wasn’t wishing hatred on all men, holding up a ball of angst against the entire male population.
In reality, I was the one who had disappeared.
But, alas, the ice cream in my freezer sounded far more enticing.
Much, much more enticing than the dozens of texts and calls from Aureo on my phone. Ghosting people may not be recommended, but man, was it better than facing reality.
My shoulders slumped forward as a harsh knock sounded at my door.
Go. Away.
I hated when people showed up unannounced.
It was almost worth it to purchase a snarky doormat for anyone who dared disturb me and my pessimistic brain.
I’m sure there had to be a small business who sold one that said something along the lines of, Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo, This Door is Not for You, with a poisoned skull symbol right on top.
Hell, I would’ve sold them myself if I knew how.
I was almost positive it would have become a best-seller.
Deciding to keep up with my never-ending pessimistic streak, I shouted as loud as possible, “Phoebe isn’t here. Please leave a message!”
An answering, pounding knock set my teeth on edge.
“I’m in the middle of watching the most grotesque, CNC, rape-filled porn! Please return at a later date when I am not otherwise preoccupied.”
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
“Fucking hell,” I snapped angrily, jolting as whoever’s fist nearly punched a hole through my door.
I threw the blanket off of me and stomped to the entrance of my apartment, practically moving to the door like an annoyed grandmother who is about to throw a shoe at someone’s head.
Swinging the door open, I spit, “Listen, buddy. I just want to watch my fuck–”
“Oh, I heard,” Aureo said, cutting me off and glowering down at me from his tall frame. “CNC porn, eh? I knew you liked it rough, but I didn’t peg you for that one. I can always try it, though. I’m down to try anything once.”
My mouth snapped shut as my back was forced ramrod straight, shoulders pinched back.
He wasn’t wearing his mask.
Oh, it was a personal visit then. Fuck.
And yet, my legs closed together from instant sex flashbacks anyway.
My eyes raked down his form, taking in every piece of him that I possibly could with what was visible.
He wore dark jeans over his leather biker boots, though they hugged his thighs more than they had the right to, and wore nothing more than a black t-shirt with his thumbs now tucked in his jean pockets.
His shorter-length hair was wild, showcasing how he definitely rode here on his bike, and the snake tattoo I had admired since I was a teenage girl showed itself on his bicep from the way he was holding his arms.
I practically had to stop myself from drooling.
Not happening.
“You know, you could have punched a damn hole in my door with how hard you were pounding on it,” I glowered, turning around to look at my front door and make sure there actually wasn’t a hole waiting for me.
There wasn’t one. Damnit.
I wanted an excuse to kick him for making me an emotional mess.
Turning back to him, I glared with one eyebrow perfectly poised, waiting for him to speak, only to be met with silence.
Perfect.
We were back to the game.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head, already coming to terms with where this was going. “Alright, well this has been fun. It’s lovely seeing your face in daylight once again. Have a good one,” I said, turning around and going to shut the door.
I nearly had it shut when he spoke again, voice darker than sin. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
I turned back to him slowly, cocking my head ever so slightly. “Were you wanting to chat? Possibly over a set of tea and crumpets?”
“You don’t like tea.”
I squinted at him, forehead scrunching. “How could you possibly know that?”
He stepped forward and leaned against the doorframe, forcing me farther into my apartment and effectively trapping me from slamming the door in his face again.
“You don’t like tea. You don’t even like coffee, unless it’s your fancy as fuck espresso lattes.
Your favorite color is purple, but you’re also extremely particular over the different shades and you could rant about it for an hour, at least. And your favorite classic book is Frankenstein because you have an infatuation with the dark sides of life and death, like a fucking weirdo. ”
Well, fuck.
I sniffed. “I’ll have you know tha–”
He continued, stepping forward once more.
Twice. I moved backwards. “I’m not finished.
You only like desserts that have cream cheese icing on them.
You haven’t had a boyfriend since you were nineteen because you’re afraid of commitment or something.
Your favorite flowers are white jasmine.
And you’re the farthest thing from a disrespectful brat, but you don’t feel like you always get the attention you truly crave which makes you act out like a little bitch sometimes. ”
Well, now I was properly offended.
And confused as to how he knew that much about me.
No one knew that much about me.
“Okay, stalker, I need you to sto–”
He pushed me lightly into the foyer wall, leaving my door wide open as he towered over me, effectively dismissing any personal space.
My hoodie pressed against his midsection and I became painfully aware of my lack of undergarments at that moment.
“You’re scared of life. You’re scared of living.
And you’re even more scared of taking a chance and falling in love.
But the best part of this situation is that I’m tired of waiting for you to open your goddamned eyes. So, you don’t have a fucking choice.”
My breath stilled in my chest.
I tilted my gaze toward him, brain short-circuiting. I almost didn’t know what to say.
There was zero sass left in my defeated tone as I responded, “Are you finished?”
“Two more things,” he whispered, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear before leaning down.
He forced a shiver through me as his stubble grated against my ear and face.
“You want this, or you wouldn’t have let me into your apartment without ruining my chance of future children, and you’re not watching CNC porn.
You’re watching another one of your god-awful teenage dramas.
CNC porn would be too exciting for you.”
Dickweed.
Deciding against my brain’s judgment, I fisted his t-shirt as he stood up straight, ensuring he wasn’t going anyway.
I watched his eyes as he studied mine, and I questioned him more than I ever had.
Most of all, I questioned why he wanted a life with me, why he wasn’t giving me a choice to fight against him, when I was the one who was terrified of everything and he wasn’t.
I said exactly that. “I’m scared.”
“I know.”
“I don’t know what this means. We shared one night. We would be crazy to act off of that.”
“I know that, too. I’ve thought about it all week. But you know just as well as I do that this has been more than a single night. Our silent feuds were just years of foreplay.”
Tears lined my eyes at his words and I cursed my hidden emotions. I hoped I could just blame it on PMSing. “Yeah?”
Lamest response of the year.
He chuckled, using his forefinger and thumb on my chin to tip my head up even more.
“Baby girl, you haven’t left my thoughts for a single minute.
I even dreamt about you. Do you know how obsessed a man has to be in order to dream about living life with his girl?
We prefer sex and chaos in those things. ”
A wet laugh escaped me. “I don’t know what this means. I hardly know anything about you. You can’t just move in right away, you know?”
“I never asked for that. I said you were giving us a chance. We’ll go from there.”
“My father is going to kill you, you know? He may even try to castrate you with a motorcycle.”
“I literally shot a hole in his club’s ceiling to fuck you. He’s already beating hellfire down my neck. Castration would only be the cherry on top, wouldn’t you think? Why not go all the way?” A crooked smile fit his face and my breath hitched as I stared at him, dropping all defenses.
I snorted. How romantic.
I was right, though, I noticed as I stared up at him.
His eyes turned into liquid honey when he was happy.
A hysterical laugh flitted out of me then. “So, this is what you want? You want a brat with a severe attitude problem? You want a girl who’s gonna fight you in her fear of everything? A girl who acts out until you hurt and abuse her? Weird choice.”
“Fuck yes, I do,” he responded in complete seriousness. “And if it makes me weird, then we’ll be a little screwed up together.”
I shook my head, even as I leaned into him more. “You’re crazy. You could be my dad.”
He took my hand in his, holding it tightly before he leaned down once more. “Maybe a little bit,” he whispered before he pressed his mouth to mine. I stood on my tiptoes and melted into him. He kissed me passionately, wildly, and it was magical.
It was us.
He lifted his head away from mine and whispered with a dark smile, “Don’t ever compare me to your dad again, though.”
I giggled at his tone.
“Oh? Why don’t you like that, Daddy? Maybe I could behave.”
His eyes dilated from the word and I made a mental note to myself…
Oh, this will be fun.
Shaking my head, I yanked his head back down to mine, desperate to kiss him again.
I didn’t know why I trusted him.
I didn’t know why I trusted my gut for a happy future at that moment.
I didn’t even know why I let him shut the door to my apartment and carry me to my couch, where he laughed and mocked me as he found the teenage angst awaiting me on my living room TV, only to keep kissing me.
And I definitely didn’t know why I automatically agreed with him when he told me that I belonged to him.
But it was us. And I liked the idea of us more than anything.
Even if it took some blind trust.