CHAPTER 10
DAISY
“Mama! You here?” I call out as I enter my parents’ house.
“In the kitchen,” she calls back and I kick my boots off before padding down the hallway. I find her seated at the dining table; glasses perched on the end of her nose as she works on her daily crossword.
My parents had me a little later on in life. A happy accident, they’ve always liked to call me. At thirty-eight, my mom was sure she was going through early menopause. Imagine her surprise when she went to the doctor’s office and they told her she was five months pregnant with a bouncing baby girl.
It never bothered me, growing up with parents that were slightly older than most people my age. They were still great parents. Young at heart.
In the years I was gone, they only visited me a handful of times, mostly in the beginning.
Looking at my mom now, it’s clear to see that the stress of having her only daughter in another state has taken its toll.
Her usually dark hair is now streaked with grey, like she hasn’t bothered to keep up with salon appointments how she used to.
Her smile lines are less prominent. And she has permanent bags under her eyes as though she’s lacked a decent night’s sleep for a long time.
“Gettin’ anywhere with that one?” I ask, pulling open the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water.
“Mm-hmm,” she hums, her eyes not lifting from the paper in front of her.
I pull out the chair opposite her and drop my ass into it with a drawn-out sigh that earns me a quirked brow from my mother as she looks at me over the rim of her glasses.
I take a long drink of water, blinking innocently at her while she watches me expectantly.
When I say nothing, she lets out a sigh of her own and drops her pen to the table.
She removes her glasses, folding the arms gently and placing them beside her pen before clasping her hands on the table in front of her.
“Wanna tell me why you’re interrupting my quiet time before your father gets home? ”
I shrug. “Just needed to collect a few more of my things to take over to my place.”
“Mm-hmm. That all?”
I huff, my shoulders dropping. “Killian hates me.”
My mom stares at me a second before she laughs. A big, booming laugh. She shakes her head at me, still chuckling as she say, “I’m sorry, honey. But what did you expect?”
I drop my head with a frown.
“Look, honey, I know why you left. And although I don’t fully agree with your reasons, I understand them. But Killian doesn’t know why you left. You were the love of his life, and you just vanished into thin air. Of course he’s going to have some resentment toward you.”
My heart beats faster in my chest. “You don’t agree with my reason for leaving?”
This is the first time she has ever said anything about me leaving. She always seemed supportive of my decision, so hearing that she didn’t agree with it surprises me.
My mom’s lips tighten into a pitying smile, and she shakes her head. “I understand why you thought you were doing the right thing, Daisy. I just think you could have avoided a lot of hurt had you stayed and been honest with Killian.”
My eyes burn as I stare at her in disbelief. “Why didn’t you say any of this before?”
She reaches across the table and grips my hand between both of hers.
“Because it was your decision. You were hurting in a way that no twenty-year-old should ever hurt and if leaving was the best way for you to heal, then I would support that. I’ve only ever wanted what’s best for you, Dais. Your dad, too.”
Tears drip onto my face and my chin trembles. “Do you think I made the wrong choice?”
She tilts her head. “Leaving? Or, not telling him?”
“Both.”
“I can’t answer that for you, honey. I don’t know if things will ever be okay between you and Killian again, but if that’s something you want, then you need to be honest with him.”
I give a watery nod.
She’s right. I can’t say that I see Killian and me ever being together in that way again, but if I ever want any kind of friendship with him at all, then I need to come clean about why I left.
I’m just not sure he’d forgive me when he finds out what I’ve been keeping to myself all these years.
I sit with my mom for a while longer, changing the subject to much safer topics, before going up to my childhood bedroom to collect a few more boxes to take home with me.
It’s mostly books, and a few photos of Bella and me. Since I ordered a new bookcase for my room, I thought it was time to unpack all the books I spent my late teen years lost in.
My dad, having returned home while I was packing them away, helps me load the boxes into the back of my car. I thank him, giving him a quick hug, before climbing into the driver’s seat and heading home.
***
Rough fingertips glide up my bare calves and over my knees before breaching the bottom of my skirt where it rests against my thighs.
I fight the urge to squirm as I hold my book open in front of me, pretending to be engrossed in the words on the page.
The fingers pause, waiting for me to protest, and when I say nothing, they continue higher. His thumb brushes against the edge of my cotton panties and I suck in a breath, my grip tightening on the paperback.
“Killian,” I hiss over the top of the book.
He glances up at me from where his head rests on my stomach. “Hmm?”
“My parents are home,” I whisper breathlessly.
“And?” He asks, his thumb trailing back and forth below the edge of my panties.
“And-” my words turn into a gasp as he lightly brushes my clit. Any argument I had prepared dies on my tongue as he repeats the action again, using more pressure this time.
“Oh, God,” I whimper.
Killian raises a brow. “Shh, angel. Your parents are home.”
His fingers hook into the sides of my underwear, and he quickly pulls them down, discarding of them on the floor before continuing his ministrations.
Killian props himself up on his elbows between my legs and I let my thighs drop open, watching him as his eyes roam over me hungrily.
I used to be embarrassed when we would be intimate like this, but Killian has made it known in the two years we’ve been dating that I have nothing to hide from him. He makes me feel confident in my own skin every single day.
He looks up at me through hooded eyes and tips his chin at my book where it lays forgotten across my chest. “Tell me about your book, Dais.”
I frown, my chest heaving in anticipation. “What?”
“Your book. Tell me what it’s about while I eat this pretty pussy.”
His thumb rubs slow, torturous circles over my clit as he slowly pushes one long digit inside of me. I gasp, dropping my head back against the pillow.
“Can’t hear you, angel,” Killian taunts as he lowers himself between my thighs.
I flick my togue out, wetting my dry lips before clearing my throat. “Umm… it’s about a man who-” another gasp escapes me as his warm tongue flattens against my clit and he adds another finger, “who is in love with his pregnant roommate.”
“Mm-hmm,” he hums against me, sending vibrations rocketing through my core. My back arches off the bed and I begin grinding against his face.
“And. Oh, God,” I cry as he curls his fingers inside of me, flicking them against my g-spot. My legs shake as he laps at me faster and I try to clamp them shut.
Killian shakes his head, using his free hand to hold one of my thighs open. He pulls his mouth away, causing me to whimper in protest. “And what?”
“And they pretend to be engaged to her family.” He removes his fingers, replacing them with his tongue and I clamp my mouth shut to hold back the scream threatening to tear free.
“You taste so good, angel. Keep going,” he mumbles against me, and I shake my head as sweat gathers at my temples, heat building at the base of my spine.
“I can’t, Killian. I’m so close.”
He wraps his arm around my thigh, bringing his hand between them and draws quick circles over my clit. “Come for me, Dais.”
That’s all it takes. My back arches off the bed and I clamp a hand over my mouth as I scream out my release. Stars explode behind my eyes, my entire body shakes, and Killian keeps on going, sucking my clit into his mouth until he’s wrung every last drop from me and I’m completely spent.
I slam my book closed, tossing it onto my nightstand before pushing myself up and giving him a mischievous smile. “My turn.”
***
I wake with a gasp. My heart pounds against my ribcage as I suck in air and slowly pull myself into a sitting position.
Sweat beads along my forehead, chest heaving and the space between my thighs aching at the memory of the eighteen-year-old, carefree versions of us.
I don’t know what triggered that specific memory to make an appearance in my dreams. It could be because I spent the evening organising the books on my shelves, I’m not sure, but I know for sure I won’t be getting back to sleep anytime soon.
Kicking the comforter off my legs, I stand and reach for my robe, wrapping it tightly around me. I grab my phone from the nightstand and the book from my dream off my bookshelf before padding quietly down the hall to the kitchen.
The clock hanging on the kitchen wall reveals that it’s a little after four a.m., so I opt for coffee instead of camomile tea. I have to be at the ranch at six so it’s useless trying to get back to sleep now when my alarms due to go off in an hour.
I’ll be dragging ass by lunch time for sure, but I can’t find it in me to care.
While the kettle boils, I let my mind wander back to Killian. Over the years, I often wondered if he was haunted by moments of us like I so often am. Or did he just erase me from his memory as though I never even existed.
I can’t say I’d blame him if he did.
The look on his face when he found me in The Boot all those months ago is one I won’t forget anytime soon. He looked at me like he’d seen a ghost.
In a way he did.
Because although I look like the same girl he once loved, I’m no longer her. Something changed within me in the days that followed what was supposed to be our wedding day.
Everything I imagined for myself – for us and our future – was torn away from me. And I haven’t been the same since.
That’s another reason why I stayed away. Why, even though I’m back now, I still haven’t come clean. Because I don’t think I could handle him looking at me like I’m broken.
I can deal with him hating me. It’s easier to be the villain in his story than the shattered girl that everyone pities.
My nose begins to tingle as bottled-up emotions threaten to spill, and I shake my head, reaching for the kettle.
Once I’ve filled my mug with coffee, I head for the living room. I pick up a throw blanket from the basket in the corner and switch on the small table lamp before settling on the couch with my book.
This particular book used to be my favourite, and this is the first time I’ve read it since before I left, so it doesn’t take long before I’m completely lost in a world of fictional men and fake dating.