CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Ella
V al and Hannah are quiet as I stare out the windows of the apartment. I can’t avoid Balor forever. And I don’t want to. I just want a handle on what I want before stuttering and letting him decide for me.
My girls comforted me, but they haven’t really helped me figure anything out.
Ever since my abusive relationship, my thinking is often skewed by guilt and fear.
The few dates I went on in Sydney were for the sole purpose of pushing myself. I needed to not only sit with a man and not be afraid, but also test myself and not go along with whatever he suggested, whether it be the restaurant, the movie, a drink, or even going home with him.
Yet that all went out the window with Balor. A complete stranger. Who I somehow knew deep in my bones wouldn’t hurt me.
The only time Balor hurt me was when he left that hotel without saying goodbye. I’d known we’d part ways. Just not like that. Even then, he still had given me more than he ever knew. I left the hotel that day having reclaimed a piece of myself that Wes stole.
Hannah comes up behind me. “I know I’ve been giving you a hard time. But you should call him. Let him know where you are.”
“I will.” I want Balor in my life, but my traumatic past is controlling my thoughts and decisions.
The phone for the apartment chimes with a call from the guard’s desk below. I spin around and look at my friends, as they stare back at me with curious expressions.
“Did Balor reach out to either of you?” I point from Hannah to Val, ready to hand down sentences for being a traitor and giving him the green light to storm the castle.
No’s sound off around the living room.
“Hello?” I say into the wall-mounted phone.
“You have a floral delivery from a Mr. Maverick.”
I want to cry, remembering Shane called Balor by that cool code name. My rebel sent me flowers.
“You can send it up. Thank you.”
“It?” Val asks. “Send what up?”
“Flowers.” I shake my head, smiling. “The oldest trick in the book.”
One that Wes never once bothered with. He spewed hollow apologies and excuses that never meant anything.
A knock on the door a few minutes later makes me jump toward the foyer. I look through the peephole and see a man in a cap, holding a vase of flowers.
Already in the vase? I’ve seen teachers at Fredricks get flowers. They come in a box, or wrapped in brown paper, assembly required.
I open the door figuring the guards let him up, and also, my best friends are here.
“Ella Reyes?” When he says my name, my blood runs cold.
Balor thinks my last name is Snow, like my dad.
It’s a small thing, but my heart starts pounding and the hair on the back of my neck stands up.
“Wes,” I mutter, terror racing through my veins.
I try to slam the door, but the man is already inside. Another man follows him with two vases, one in each hand. Then another man. And another. And another, who has several vases filled with flowers on a flatbed cart.
They file into my living room while Hannah and Val jump up and help place the cut crystal glass vases on every surface.
The living room smells like a florist, the air perfumed with red roses, yellow roses, pink roses, white roses, then more red roses, and next... Baskets of flowers, but I don’t know the names. Calla lilies maybe? Snapdragons? With carnations in every color and Gerber daisies.
Good Lord, Balor bought out an entire florist and had them all delivered to me.
But where is he? There’s no card on any of the arrangements.
How did the guard downstairs know it was from Maverick?
The delivery men file out, and I wonder how much they got paid for this stunt.
Balor is filling my house with all these arrangements just to prove he can throw his money around. His billions are the last thing I care about. I tried to return the expensive jewelry I bought on my ridiculous spending spree, but he insisted I keep it.
Disappointment floods me that he’s not here. I want him , not jewelry or all these flowers.
Money has never been an issue for my family. Not that we’re rolling in it like the O’Rourke family is, but my father has plenty of money. I’ve never seen Dad’s bank account, but we live in this expensive apartment and maintain Mom’s house in Connecticut, though I’ve not been there in more than a year.
As I close the front door, I spot another startling, huge, beautiful bouquet in the hallway, this one made up of at least one hundred roses. Thinking it’s on a stand, I reach to grab it, but it has legs.
Human legs.
I gasp as the flowers are lowered.
“Hey, butterfly.” Balor smiles at me. “You haven’t been answering your phone.”
I hold my chest, that this is his response.
Not yelling at me. Or hitting me. Dragging me around by my hair .
“Can I come in?” Balor emptied a florist for me, maybe more than one, and here he stands at my door, waiting for me to invite him in like a vampire.
Eyes fluttering, I stand back. “Of course.”
His steps halt, noticing my friends lined up. “Alo. I’m Balor O’Rourke,” he announces his name proudly.
“This is Hannah and Val. My... My best friends.”
Balor puts down the massive arrangement and shakes each of their hands. “It’s nice to meet both of you. I’m glad Ella has friends who will help her in a crisis.”
“We always have our girl’s back,” Hannah says, signaling she’s the one to win over.
Val’s jaw has hit the carpet staring at Balor. “Is that accent real?” she says on a breathy moan.
“Aye,” Balor replies with a panty-melting smile.
She can’t ask me to set her up with any of Balor’s brothers. They’re all married. Except for the one who’s in Ireland at the moment. At least that’s what I’d overheard.
“We’ll get out of here so you two can talk,” Hannah says, dragging Val by the elbow. “You okay, Ella?”
“I am.” I sniff, those damn hormones making me weepy.
Val looks woozy and knocks into a wall.
“I got you.” I help her.
She hugs me, and I catch Balor’s warm smile over her shoulder.
The door closes and the silence in the room thickens. I stay facing away, collecting my thoughts, and getting my nerves in check.
Heat envelops me as Balor presses his chest against my back.
“I was worried,” he whispers with nothing but sweetness in his voice.
It’s genuine and about as non-threatening as I’ve ever heard .
On a shaky breath, I turn around. “I know leaving the school without waiting for your driver was—”
His mouth covers mine, his voice raw. “Please don’t ever do that again. I was freaking out.”
No yelling. No hitting. No dragging.
Balor holds me and kisses me.
“ I freaked. I’m sorry. I had to figure out what I want. Me.”
“I get that, butterfly. But this is my baby, too. I want a say.”
“I don’t mean the baby. I would never keep a baby from his father.” Except Wes, but I don’t voice that. “I mean us. I want you to want me for me. That’s why I asked you how felt. And all you said was you liked me.”
“I told you, words don’t do justice to what I feel for you. But just as you feel it’s too soon, so do I. Just as you have things to work through, so do I.” He kisses my hand. “All I know is when you’re not with me, I feel empty. That’s a start, isn’t it?”
“It is.” I cover the hand he placed on my stomach, keeping it there, loving how that feels.
“Please let my brother set you up with a doctor right away.”
“Come on. Let’s talk.” I take his hand and we sit on the sofa. “I worry if your family knows I’m pregnant they might pressure you to...put even more pressure on me.”
“You don’t know them,” he says and bites his lower lip. “And the pressure is more about being responsible adult men.”
“I don’t want to be a responsibility.”
“You’re making it so I can’t win here. If I blow this off, I’m an ass. If I push you to commit to me, I’m a jerk.”
Jerk... I laugh, remembering I called him that in my head the night we met.
“You are my responsibility, Ella,” he continues when I don’t respond. “But don’t confuse that with being a burden. Those are two completely different things. I’m thrilled...”
“About the baby?”
“Aye. I wasn’t expecting it. But most single men aren’t expecting news like that.”
Negotiate. Like Hannah said. A successful negotiation means both parties get something. What can I give up? What can I live with to get what I want in return? What do I even want?
“Aside from me seeing a doctor right now, how do you want to proceed from here?” I ask.
“I’m glad you asked.” Balor reaches inside his pocket and shows me a velvet cube.