Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
TANGLED
Shaw
“The freckles on his face are my favorite pattern, even more so than any constellation.” – E
S tepping out of the shower, I quickly dress in a simple gray tee and black sweatpants, needing to feel comfortable after the long day I’ve had. It is hot as hell, nearly reaching 100 degrees.
With wet hair and a towel draped over my shoulders, I padded barefoot into the kitchen, my footsteps loud against the cool wooden tiles. Opening the fridge, I reach for a cold beer and look for something to eat. That’s when I realize I’ve been so caught up in my usual routine that I’ve forgotten I’m no longer alone.
Fuck. I realize I haven’t prepared anything for Ella. Did she eat? I wonder, peering into the fridge packed with numerous fresh items and even stuff I don’t eat. I made sure to stock it with everything she might want or need once I was assigned to her.
Guilt claws at me for forgetting to feed her while I spent the late afternoon outside tending to the animals and fixing things. The fences needed repair after years of deterioration caused by livestock brushing against them. It’s about damn time I fixed them after months of putting it off.
And after Ella got her way and we spent all morning roaming the town, stopping at every store she found interesting or cute, we came back to the ranch and went our separate ways. I continue with my daily routine at the stables, saddling the horses and caring for the cattle, while she is supposed to start her online classes. To make a longer day even more exhausting, I have to deal with the legal shit that comes with owning a ranch.
That’s the part I dislike the most. I don’t mind getting my hands dirty and working the land. It’s the paperwork that is a pain in the ass. I would rid myself of the task if I trusted someone else to handle it, but sadly I don’t and have no choice but to do it myself. Phoenix is not a man of numbers and business. He’s all about the land and getting his hands dirty. It’s up to me then.
I can’t fail this land. For her. That’s why I work like a dog trying to keep this ranch and land alive. I owe it to them. I wish I didn’t fucking owe them anything, yet I do. And I can’t do shit about it but keep my head held high and my feet firmly planted on the ground, working until I’m no longer in fucking debt with the devil. I hate that I had no option but to accept his help, even though at the time I didn’t have a single clue who threw me the lifeline.
When memories of what led me here try to resurface, I push them down and force them back to where they belong—the place where everything that once hurt stays forgotten, where it all stays numb.
My chest tightens, and my thoughts instantly steer in another direction. To the petite heiress with a smile as bright as the fucking sun. The girl I have no business letting infiltrate my mind. But she’s been there all day, slipping over me and threatening to sink in. Ella.
Her lovely smile. A smile that lights up whenever she sees me. God knows why she wastes them on a miserable fuck like me. The damn goat that made her so happy. Fucking pink. I never gave the obnoxious color much thought until now; it’s all around me—it’s all I see.
Don’t go there, Shaw. She’s not for you. You break beautiful things, or have you forgotten?
But then I think of how empty and cold it felt while we parted ways today—when she wasn’t around. Fuck. That’s the thing about being out in the cold for so long; you start to forget how the sun feels on your skin, and that girl with her brilliant smiles, sweet heart, and wacky ways has made me feel things I haven’t felt in years—some I’ve never felt before, and that’s fucked up.
Someone like me, who has seen more ugliness than beauty, would only snuff out her lovely light.
As I twist off the cap with a satisfying hiss, a faint noise from outside catches my attention. It’s dark outside; what could the noise be? Maybe one of the horses got loose. It’s happened before. Peanut hates being confined to small spaces.
With a heavy sigh, I set the beer bottle down on the kitchen counter and move toward the glass door that leads to the back of the house. I peer through the glass, my eyes drawn to the garden where a soft glow dances among the trees. I frown at what I see. The branches are adorned with bright fairy lights, like stars falling from the sky. It looks almost magical. The fuck? Are those old Christmas lights?
I’m surprised they still work after being unused for so long.
Curiosity piqued, I stepped into the garden. The evening air is crisp and filled with the scents of summer and tulips from not far away. Looking down at the stone path that leads to the middle of the garden, I’m surprised to find scattered flowers and small white rocks beneath my feet. Each step makes my chest feel tight.
Then the sight before me is almost as if I’ve stumbled upon a secret world hidden in my own backyard. A secret world I never expected to find.
Pink. That word comes to mind again. Deep in my gut, I know this has Ellaiza Kenton written all over it. There’s no question in my mind that she did all of this.
That’s how she feels to you, doesn’t she? Like a creature from another world. Like an unknown galaxy that you’re itching to discover. I ignore the confusing-as-fuck thoughts and wander deeper into the garden, following the trail of lights that lead me further into the quiet, starlit night. The only sound is the rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant chirping of crickets. It seems like a normal night at the ranch, but I can already tell it’s not.
A usual night here feels empty and lifeless. Not tonight, and all because of her. My lovely heiress. Dangerous. So dangerous.
I’ve known it all along. From the second she looked at me as if she had finally found me, the girl crash-landed into my life and sprinkled every aspect of it with some sort of voodoo shit or magic. She has infiltrated every thought, leaving me defenseless.
The way she adapts to my small town with so much grace and a positive attitude surprises me. I thought for sure she would turn this situation into a nightmare for me, yet she makes this lonely ranch feel… less cold and more… colorful.
The crackling noise of a fire breaks through my thoughts, making me turn. My eyes settle on the familiar stone circle where Mom occasionally built a fire pit for nights like this. To my surprise, a small bonfire crackles in the center, its flames flickering and dancing around me, illuminating the night much like the fairy lights. The wood burns brightly, sending sparks spiraling into the air like tiny fireflies dancing in sync. The past and present collide and hit me at once. Painful memories of the past haunt me while thoughts of the girl who made this happen bombard my mind, fighting everything that hurts me. Thoughts of her flood every dark corner of my mind with her pure light.
Shit. Why her?
I keep asking the same question and yet can’t come up with a logical answer.
I take a deep breath and exhale slowly as I gaze up at the sky, illuminated by the stars and moon above. It truly is one beautiful sight.
Then a noise diverts my gaze, settling deeper into the garden on a makeshift fort made with white sheets and scattered with numerous pillows. Fairy lights hang from every corner of the fort, illuminating it from within and without.
For a moment, I stand there in awe, struck by the sheer beauty of the sight before me. I’ve spent every summer here on this ranch, and not one of them ever felt quite like this one, and it’s all because of her. It’s all this girl who seems to turn everything she touches into magic.
Stepping closer, I realize the fort is carefully arranged, with cushions set up for seating. It’s evident she’s planned every detail meticulously, as if it’s meant to be a safe place. An escape of some sort.
I wonder if that’s what she thinks of this place—of my ranch? Does it feel like an escape to her? A safe place?
Taking another long, deep breath, I approach the twinkling fort quietly, sure of who I might find inside. As I peek through the fort’s entrance, I see her sitting amidst the pillows, singing a pop song I can’t escape because it’s all over the radio, as she patiently arranges tiny bowls of red candy, popcorn, and sodas on top of a wooden tray.
She is in a world of her own while I stand back and watch her. The soft glow from the fairy lights inside the fort highlights her features gently, casting an angelic aura around her. I almost smile when I see she wears pink pajamas adorned with tiny Saturn prints, the celestial patterns twinkling in the soft light. The cute pajamas hug her body delicately while a pink headband nests in her hair. Curly locks frame her bare face, giving her an air of effortless and natural beauty. Fuck, is she a beauty. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite as beautiful as her.
She not only has curves that make my mouth water, even when hidden under loose clothing, but also a face that most men would go to war for. Her soft nature and addictive smile could drive a man to madness.
I’m that man, and I’m fucked because of it.
I smile when I notice her feet clad in strawberry-shaped slippers, their plush forms peeking out from beneath the hem of her pajama bottoms. I watch her with a sense of wonder, like a kid gazing at gifts under the tree on Christmas morning.
And at that moment, I understand why so many people are enamored with this girl. It’s not just her outer beauty that holds me captive, but the quiet confidence and inner radiance that make Ellaiza Kenton otherworldly. The goodness in her heart is rare, and it scares the fuck out of me as much as it intrigues me.
Startled by my sudden appearance, she jumps slightly and turns to see me standing there. A mix of confusion and amusement crosses her face. “Oh, shoot!” she exclaims, laughter bubbling up as she realizes who it is. “You scared me.” Her expression is light, her eyes sparkling, and her cheeks flushed with pink.
So. Fucking. Pretty.
I clear my throat and step closer. “I didn’t mean to startle you. What’s all this?” I ask, gesturing around at the garden adorned with lights and then at the fort.
She smiles, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes. “Surprise movie night,” she explains, patting the space beside her invitingly. My eyes are drawn to her pink-painted nails. Just days ago, they were white, but now they’re a shimmering pink. Huh. “I wanted to thank you for allowing me to keep Poppy here during my stay.” I shift my gaze from her delicate hands to her face. She looks down at her hands, clearly embarrassed.
My chest squeezes at the sight.
“Ella.” I squat down to her level. “Give me your eyes.” The words slip out before I can think better of them.
She lifts her head and gives me those blue eyes that confuse the fuck out of me. For a moment, I wonder what it would be like to get lost in them—to get lost in all that is Ellaiza Kenton.
“You don’t have to. It was a stupid idea,” she says, her shoulders sagging.
“I’ve told you before. You don’t have to thank me, princess.”
Her gaze pierces me, leaving me breathless. “But you’re so kind.”
I scoff at that. “That’s one thing no one will ever accuse me of being.”
Her blue eyes darken, if that’s even possible, and she whispers fiercely, “But you are to me.”
“To you.” I deadpan.
A soft gasp escapes her pink lips. “And why is that?”
Silence falls between us as our eyes lock.
I don’t say anything. I don’t tell her that I’m making my best effort to treat her with kindness and patience, something I don’t offer anyone else because she is… different.
I don’t tell her she’s brought life back to this ranch, nor do I tell her I’ve been going crazy day and night, haunted by thoughts of her.
“Come on in,” she whispers softly.
I hesitate for a second, staring at her blue eyes shining as bright as the stars above.
I should turn away. I really should, yet my feet don’t seem to move even when my mind tells them to.
Knowing everything will change the second I step inside her fort, I go ahead and join her in the magical haven she has so sweetly created just to thank me for the damn goat and for treating her with kindness.
“Welcome!” Ella exclaims with her hands spread out at the same time Poppy raises her head from the pillows. I don’t miss the big pink bow on top of the goat’s head. Both Ella and the goat look at me expectantly, and I realize they’re waiting for me to say something.
But what do I say? Thanking her doesn’t seem quite enough.
Instead, I do something that feels foreign to me, yet I know it means so much to the kindhearted and bubbly creature staring up expectantly at me.
My gaze softens as I look at her, and then I smile.
Misery has carved its mark on me, but the girl in front of me makes the dark shit feel like a distant memory, even if only temporarily. She does that for me.
To my surprise, the smile doesn’t come out forcefully but genuinely. After years of wearing a stoic mask, I find myself in a rare moment. I’m smiling, and it doesn’t hurt.
A gasp escapes Ella’s pink lips, forcing me to stare at her. Her eyes meet mine, and she blinks, as if waking from a dream. The wonder in her blue gaze is palpable, her eyes wide and sparkling with emotion.
“What?” I narrow my eyes, worried that something has happened to her.
But the little vixen places both palms over her mouth as if covering a smile of her own. Her eyes seem to twinkle more than before. “You smiled…” she whispers in wonder. Then she puts her hands down and turns to the goat. “It worked, Poppy. He smiled! I told you so!” Her excitement about a simple smile is almost comical.
She looks so happy and… grateful. How is this girl real? She couldn’t be.
When her blue eyes return to me, I feel a rush of affection for her.
A smile. That’s what she wanted from me. A fucking smile. That’s all.
How simple and how very sweet.
“You did all this for a smile?” I ask, confused. This girl confuses me, yet I don’t seem to mind it as much as I did when she first arrived.
Ella nods, then blushes slightly, a hint of bashfulness coloring her cheeks. “You should smile more, Shaw,” she replies, her voice soft yet filled with a quiet confidence. “It’s... almost cosmic.” She adds this time with a look in her eyes that makes it difficult for me to find my next breath.
Thud.
Thud.
Fucking thud.
My chest aches.
I avert my eyes, feeling too damn much, and look at the iPad settled between the sheets with a movie application open instead. Clearing my throat to conceal how much she affects me, I ask, “What are we watching?”
“A classic,” she answers as she pops a red candy into her mouth. One of those cherry gummies I bought just because I remember how much she liked candy when she was a child.
A classic? I wonder as I say nothing while waiting for her to specify.
Her blue eyes light up and a mischievous grin appears on her face as she looks up at me. “Tangled, of course.”
“Tangled?” I bite my lip to keep from laughing. The animated princess movie she loved as a little girl. The same one she made us watch two times a day. I asked once why she loved the movie so much and she shrugged, telling me with a small smile that she liked the scene where the king and queen, including the villagers, light the sky with lanterns so their missing daughter can find her way home.
Ella chuckles softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Yes,” she says, reaching for a bag of popcorn and offering it to me. “Eat some,” she orders. “It’s good.” She mumbles with her mouth full.
She looks… adorable.
Amused, I take a handful of popcorn and settle back, noticing she made the fort large enough for me to fit in and sit comfortably.
The Kenton princess is an endearing mystery, and every day she spends in my presence I feel the need to uncover all the wonder that she is, with a fear in my heart that one day I’ll go too far and won’t ever come back from all the beauty that is Ellaiza Kenton.
When a pressure in my chest appears out of nowhere with thoughts of her, I rub the spot where it hurts.
The fuck is this feeling?
You know… a little voice inside me whispers, sounding almost condensed.
Not wanting to give much thought to the tightness in my chest and what it means, I gaze at the baby goat, Poppy, nestled between the sheets, now sleeping soundly. “The goat seems to be enjoying herself.” I look back at Ella.
“Poppy.” Ella’s dark brows furrow as if somehow my not calling the goat by its name offends her.
“Poppy.” I repeat, amused by her attitude. A lovely contrast to her usual sweetness.
A fond smile graced her lips as she gently stroked the goat’s soft fur, careful not to wake her. “I thought she might like to join us tonight. She looked so lost at the shelter. She must’ve had a lonely existence before we saved her,” she explains, her gaze drifting back to meet mine.
Saved her.
Thud.
Thud.
The ache in my chest feels stronger than before.
I clear my throat, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. “Does having Poppy here make you happy?” I ask, curiously.
“It does.” Her blue eyes pierce mine, and for a moment, I wonder what she sees when she looks at me. Unlike before, the thought of her seeing more of me doesn’t disturb me. It’s a freeing feeling.
That’s new.
What are you doing to me, moonshine?
I fall silent, not knowing what to say, but like every time before, we don’t seem to need to fill the silence. The moments of silence between us never feel awkward or forced, leaving me to think that not many words are needed between Ella and me.
I can get addicted to this feeling.
Because, yes, no words are needed because her presence is more than enough. I just need her close… and ain’t that a bitch.
“Okay, here we go!” Ella sings happily, pulling me back from the confusing thoughts in my head.
She does a lot.
Laid back in the soft pillows, I watch as she carefully settles next to me after pressing play on the movie. Our shoulders lightly brush, and I can’t shake the feeling of bliss that washes over me.
It’s as if, with just one touch, one look, and one smile, this princess quiets all the noise inside and outside my head.
No one has ever done that for me.
Just my luck, the one to do it is the one I can’t have.
And as my thoughts of her torture the fuck out of me, we watch the movie in silence, except for the times Ella laughs or swoons at the handsome cartoon prince with the white horse.
With each passing moment, I find myself captivated not only by her beauty in this moment but by her heart. Not many have hearts like hers, and in this day and age, her strength, her kindness, and the way she so easily brings joy into my lowly and sad existence are a rarity.
Her eyes are fixed on the animated princess on the screen, and her laughter floats through the room, warm and infectious. Even though the movie makes her happy and makes her laugh, I am captivated, and words are stuck in my throat. Because at that moment, I can’t help but think how beautiful she looks. Her laughter bubbles up, her eyes sparkle with joy, and genuine happiness beams from her as she watches her favorite movie.
Yes, she is captivating in ways I hadn’t fully understood until now—until I realize just how sweet and wondrous this girl is. She even manages to sprinkle her magic all around this fort.
As the minutes and hours pass, I keep my gaze on her while she eats everything she set up for us, from cherry red candies to chocolate-covered strawberries, all the while staring at the screen.
And when she thinks I’m paying attention to the animated movie, she sneaks glances at me. I feel her warm gaze heating up my skin more than the hot summer sun.
You’re nothing like I’d imagined, princess. Nothing like the trash headlines made it seem.
But then her fake smiles and sad eyes flash through my mind, reminding me that there’s so much more I and the world don’t know about this girl. Perhaps the world doesn’t care to meet her heart, but as I lay back and watch her, her eyes twinkling with light that matches the stars outside, I know that I would do anything to find the secrets she holds close to her kind heart.
I need to… for some unknown reason. I can’t explain the feeling she stirs in me. All I know is that I no longer feel so damn cold and my home is no longer depressing as fuck.
She did that.
And as I watch her profile, her gaze fixed on the screen, I feel a thousand emotions at once after years of shutting myself down. Without thinking it through, I blurt out the first thought that comes to mind. “Are you happy, Ella?”
A moment of silence passes as I feel my chest pounding like a storm.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
My heart beats so hard, I swear I can hear it. Can she?
Ella slowly turns her pretty face away from the screen and stares at me.
Deep, soulful eyes meet brown.
I look at her eyes, then her small button nose, plump pink lips, taking all of her in before our eyes meet once again.
“I am now, Shaw.” Ella whispers with a small and shy smile on her face that steals my breath like it does every time she smiles at me.
And as I look at Ella, her eyes sparkling with happiness and her laughter filling the air, I know this moment will remain in my memory long after her sweetness is gone and no longer transforming this lonely ranch into what it hasn’t been in so long: a safe haven. A home. “Because of you…” her soft whispered words hit me deep in my tattered soul.
“Ella…” I whisper, feeling vulnerable and out of my element. How is it that a tiny little thing like her can make me feel like a tongue-tied schoolboy?
“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know that. You and this place make me very happy. I’m the happiest I’ve been in a really long time.” She whispers, sounding so sad that it makes the organ in my chest, that was barely pumping blood before she crash-landed into my life, now beat wildly whenever she’s around. The traitorous fuck.
I clear my throat and ask, “Weren’t you happy before?”
Her blue eyes fall to her hands, which rest on her lap holding the popcorn bowl. “It’s complicated and a long story.” The sadness lacing her tone makes my throat clog up.
What’s the matter, princess? I wonder, needing to know all that troubles her so I can annihilate it.
I know it is wrong of me, yet I still can’t find it within me to stop. I want her to smile like she does with me all the damn time. So even though I shouldn’t get involved in a client’s life like that when I only plan on being temporary, I open my mouth and say, “I’ve got time.”
And I do. I want to know what makes her happy. What makes her sad? I want to know… her.
All that hurts and what makes her.
I want to know the heiress behind the perfect smile.
We look into each other’s eyes until a heavy sigh escapes her, breaking the gentle spell she has me under. Her blue eyes, usually bright with laughter, now hold a hint of vulnerability. There is a weight in her voice as she speaks, the words coming out softly. “I—I don’t want you to think I’m spoiled or ungrateful,” she murmurs, her gaze searching my face for a reaction or understanding.
I shake my head gently, wanting her to know that even though I’ve been a giant fuck to her before, I see beyond the glam and glitz of the life she was born into and the fame she was forced into. Yes, she’s a multibillion heiress and yes, she has many eyes on her, yet right now, here with me, she’s just Ella. The kind, brilliant, and beautiful girl who has slowly but surely gotten beneath my skin—into my soul. “Never,” I reply sincerely, my voice rough yet reassuring. “I don’t think that of you. You’re neither a brat nor spoiled.”
“You did before.” Those blue eyes that undo me pierce my soul as she looks up at me. A curl falls free of the loose bun onto her rosy cheek. My fingers have a mind of their own as I twirl the curl and then put it behind her ear. At the same time, Ella’s breath hitches as if she, too, feels this maddening feeling that’s taking hold of my senses with every second I spend inside this fort with her. “I was wrong,” I say, feeling fucking ashamed of casting judgment without knowing what lies beneath. I’m just like all the rest. “You’re the farthest thing from spoiled,” I tell her truthfully. Her shoulders relax slightly at my words, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. How long has it been since someone saw beyond the surface?
“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice carrying a mix of relief and gratitude. But then she falls silent again as if she’s pondering whether to tell me or keep carrying that sadness she has carried for a while now as a secret. For no one to ever see the real her.
I see her now.
The truth is… she’s all I see.
“You’re safe here.” When her eyes widen in surprise with a hint of affection, I feel a strong pang in my chest. When she remains silent, I simply stare at her, trying to convey the truth of my words with my eyes.
After another long moment of silence, she opens her pretty pouty mouth. “The truth is, when I was a child, I had no real concept of what being famous was. I didn’t understand that my father was the most powerful man at that time and my mom was basically an icon,” she begins, her gaze drifting to a distant place as if searching for the right words. “To me, it felt crowded, yes, but it never hurt me. Dad, Uncle Benji, and eventually Mom never let anything touch me. And as crazy as it all was back then, I didn’t notice anyone else besides my family.” Ella takes a deep breath, her words sounding sad. “But then, as I grew older, the outside world my family tried so hard to protect me from starts to infiltrate the little bubbles of happiness and peace they created for me and my siblings. My family turns into a spectacle for the world, and with the blessings and happy moments, the darkness seeps in until I start to hate the noise of this famous life. Over the years, it becomes overwhelming. I feel like I’ve lost touch with the girl I used to be, trying to be the girl everyone else wants me to be. Everyone knows that I’m not Arianna’s daughter, and they love to remind me of that with every post on social media and gossip articles. They compare me with my sisters, who are biologically Mom’s. I try to ignore them and keep being me, but after a while, it gets to me. The words they blast all over social media are cruel and nasty. It’s not just the people who follow our family but the media as well.” Her voice breaks a little at the end, and my anger grows stronger. “I thought if I dressed and acted more like them, then?—”
“Then people would stop spewing shit, and it would stop hurting,” I finish for her, feeling anger coil deep in my bones as I imagine a young Ella surrounded by pink and happiness, reading shit online about her and comparing herself to her mother and sisters. “Yes,” she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion. She then turns her face away from mine.
Shit.
“Princess…” She doesn’t acknowledge me, but I see her shoulders tense. Without thinking, I reach out and gently turn her chin, making her face me. Her deep blue eyes, usually sparkling and filled with laughter, are now clouded with unshed tears.
“You hate criers, remember?” Her voice cracks as a tear slips down her cheek. My heart clenches painfully at the sight.
I stay silent, only watching as the tears fall down her beautiful face. Tears should be a crime on Ella Kenton. They fucking hurt me.
While I stare without saying anything, she closes her eyes briefly, and a tremor passes through her. When she opens them again, they hold a mix of sadness and fear—fear of being judged or ridiculed for being her and expressing her feelings.
Goddamn. Fuck the world that made her feel anything less than perfect. Me included.
“I think we both can agree that I’ve said a lot of dumbshit, moonshine. Now, look at me.” I order gently, my thumb brushing away the tears. “You don’t have to pretend to be anyone else. You’re perfect as you are. Fuck the world and what they think, there’s no one like you, cupcake,” I murmur. “Don’t ever fucking pretend with me. I want yo—” I stop myself before I fuck up and say something I shouldn’t. Taking a deep breath, I continue. “I want you to be exactly who you are. No one else. Just Ella.”
“Shaw…” Her breath hitches as my heart starts aching at the turmoil etched on her face.
I always pride myself on my professionalism, but I can’t help feeling a strange twist in my chest. The sadness in this lovely creature’s eyes is undoing me.
Our eyes meet, and for a brief, electrifying moment, everything that holds me back fades away. In that heartbeat of a second, I see something flicker in Ella’s eyes—something that scares me.
Me a grown as fuck man who has seen more bad shit than good is afraid of a smaller, defenseless young girl.
I swallow hard, my gaze meeting hers with an intensity that mirrors her own. In that moment, as her eyes make a mess of the organ in my chest, I feel a surge of longing—a desire to bridge the gap between us, to let go of the boundaries that prevent me from going there with her. Boundaries that remind me we belong in different worlds.
She to the glamorous life of the elite, and me to this simple town.
Then, as the second flies by, my eyes fall to her pretty pink bow-shaped lips, and I lose all resolve. Without thinking, I lean in closer, the organ in my chest pounding as I brush a strand of hair away from her face. My hand lingers against her pink cheek, my thumb tracing the curve of her jaw. Our breaths mingle, warm and tantalizingly close.
Fuck, her scent drives me wild.
Ella’s nose touches the tip of mine as I hold her dangerously close. For a heartbeat, time seems to stand still. I can feel the magnetic force drawing me toward her like a moth to a flame. My mind races with the possibility of kissing her, of tasting the sweetness of her lips against my own and claiming the one thing that isn’t meant for me. Her.
But then reality crashes down on me like a wave against the shore. I am her protector, her guardian—duty-bound and honor-bound to keep her safe. Ella belongs to a world of wealth and privilege, while I am a man forged by hardship and pain. I know, deep down, that I don’t belong in her world, that our paths are bound to diverge.
Fuck.
With a heavy heart, I pull away, my hand falling back to my side. I search her eyes for forgiveness, for what I almost allowed to happen, for the line I crossed. “I lost control. I... I shouldn’t have done that, Ella. Fuck, I’m sorry,” I murmur, my voice thick with regret. There is more I want to say, more I want to express. Instead, I just tell her I’m sorry.
“I’m not,” she whispers, making me even more confused while guilt claws at me.
I know I shouldn’t feel this way. I am her protector, her shield against any threat that dares approach her. Falling for her is not an option, not when our roles are so clearly defined. Her father, and my uncle, place their trust in me to keep her safe and nothing else. And while I used to be a rebel at heart, I can’t do this to her. To them.
But as I sit here, caught in the intensity of her gaze, I can’t deny the truth that whispers in the depths of my troubled mind. I am falling for her, against all reason and logic. And it scares me more than facing my past and everything that has kept my head barely above water all these years.
There is something about her that twists deep, drawing me in. This girl, whom I can’t allow myself to have, but one I somehow can’t let go.
How not to get swept up in this sweet, sweet chaos.
I let out a deep sigh, lean back against the pillows, and keep my gaze fixed on the computer screen playing the animated movie. Ella says nothing. She just lays back down next to me and follows my lead.
She doesn’t push, and she doesn’t ask for more, and I somehow, deep down, wish she would.
After that, we both sit in silence as we finish the movie. Then we part ways, and I go to bed pretending I’m not thinking about the girl who I am afraid has already gotten under my skin. Pretending I don’t wish I had said fuck all and claimed those lips.
But I didn’t, and I regret leaving the magical fort and the sweet girl inside it.
That night, I had my first dream of Ella. The first and certainly not the last. Because every night that follows, she becomes the object of my every dream and... fantasy. The girl with the deep eyes and kind smiles.