Chapter 11
Ariana
I look around and see nothing. Every direction I step in, I hit a dead end. I pound on the walls.
“Help!” I scream. “Help!”
I feel myself sobbing in fear. I need out; I need to be free.
I pound against the walls again, screaming for help.
“Ariana! Ariana! Wake up!” Eric’s voice cuts through the darkness of my nightmare.
I wake on a gasp, sitting straight up with Eric’s hands wrapped around my upper arms. A look of panic is on his face as his eyes wildly search mine.
My mind slowly realizes it was a dream. I’m still processing it as Eric wraps his arms around me and pulls me against his chest.
“It’s OK. You’re safe,” he murmurs with his lips pressed against the top of my head.
It takes a long minute or two for my breathing to slow and the tears to stop. I hate that dream. I’ve had it for years. This is the first time I’ve had it since arriving in Storyview Falls. Normally, I wake up in my bed alone. No one ever comforts me. I’m all alone. I bury myself deeper into Eric’s embrace. His arms tighten around me. He doesn’t push me away or speak. He just holds me as if he knows that’s what I need. I need someone to protect me, to comfort me. How have I never realized this before now? I suppose I’ve been too busy pleasing my parents to consider my own needs. I release a long shaky breath.
“You want to talk about it?” he asks in a low raspy voice.
I shake my head. “It’s just a reoccurring nightmare. I haven’t had it for a while,” I murmur, my lips pressed against his pectoral muscle. I can feel his heart beating, slow and steady. He smells how I imagined a man would smell, woodsy and musky. Katia always tells me about her conquests and her hookups. And I’ve pretended that I understand, that I’ve done those things with the two or three guys I’ve gone out with over the past five years, but I haven’t. I’ve kissed a guy and I’ve had a guy feel my chest over my bra, but that’s it. Either we broke up too soon or they met my dad and got scared away. All I know about sex comes from reading romance books and talking to friends. God, I’m pathetic. I feel myself tense and I try to relax but I keep thinking about what it would feel like to have Eric’s hands touching me, really touching me. I shouldn’t be thinking about that.
I start to pull away but his arms prevent me from getting far.
“Hey there, little catastrophe. What’s bothering you?” he asks as his eyes search mine. I am a catastrophe, but not in a good way. I swallow, fighting back tears. “It’s OK, Ariana. You can trust me. You can tell me anything,” he assures me as his hand comes up to brush a tear away. And I believe him.
“I…” I trail off as I try to find the words. Where do I start? Do I tell him the entire truth? What if he hates me? I couldn’t bear to disappoint him. He’s done so much for me.
“What?” he prods as he cups my face, forcing me to look at him.
“I don’t want to disappoint you,” I admit. I bite my lip and he uses his thumb to pull it free.
“Not possible,” he says softly.
His thumb runs over my lip and suddenly I want him to kiss me. I start to lean up and he doesn’t move. I’m an inch away from his face, our gazes are locked and I can feel his breath on my skin.
This is it. I’m going to kiss my boss. Screw it. Just do it. That’s what Katia would say.
My eyelids start to close.
BAM!
We jump apart and Eric runs to the window. I slowly get off the bed, careful to step with my busted ankle which feels better.
“Shit,” he mutters.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Mario and Luigi got out,” he says with a sigh. “I’ll be right back.”
I look out the window and see two goats jumping around. I start after Eric but he stops at the door.
“Oh no you don’t. Get back in bed and rest. I got these two little ninjas. They are escape artists. Last time they got out, they somehow ended up down on Main Street and were headbutting that fake little pony ride outside the ice cream shop,” he explains. I immediately know what he’s talking about with the little pony that kids sit on and it rocks back and forth if you put coins in it.
I giggle. “Is this what farm life is?” I ask.
He chuckles. “I suppose it is.” He hurries down the stairs and I slink back into bed, pulling the comforter up against me. I can still smell Eric on the covers. Something about his scent is so calming. Just like he is. Even amid my fall, his voice was still calm and strong. It takes a lot to rile him. He’s the opposite of my father. He’s brilliant. I’ve seen that every day I’ve been here. But not in a calculating type of way. In an innovative type of way. And he’s kind. I’ve never seen such kindness before.
I curl up but then I can’t help peeking outside. I carefully walk to the window and giggle as I watch Luigi jump out of Eric’s arms and on top of the doghouse by the barn. Then Mario starts running in circles around him. I hear Mooman mooing. The baby lamb cries and Eric looks up to the sky for a second. Then his gaze meets mine as I peer out at him. As goats jump around in front of him, he doesn’t move, and neither do I. We watch each other for long seconds, unspoken words passing between us. Does he long to touch me too? Is this feeling I have around him mutual? No? That’s not possible…or is it?
Then, Eric mouths, “Go back to bed.”
I grin and stick out my tongue and he laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling. God, he’s handsome. He’s like a prince in one of those fairy tales I used to read or the male lead character in one of those sappy love movies Katia and I watch. He’s perfect.
Luigi rams his leg and Eric grabs him, breaking our eye contact. I turn and crawl back into bed. I pull the covers up again and breathe in Eric’s scent. My eyelids grow heavy and the last thing I hear are the goats yelling outside as sleep overtakes me.
* * *
The light is so bright when I open my eyes that I shield them with a hand. Squinting, I assess myself. My ankle feels a little better, not perfect but better. I feel the back of my head.
“Ouch,” I whisper as my finger presses the small knot that’s formed. That’ll take a few days to go down. But it doesn’t hurt as bad as yesterday.
I hear a noise and look up to see Eric fast asleep in the armchair. His gentle snores make me smile. He’s still in his clothes. His boots are sitting next to the chair and his giant feet are propped on the ottoman.
I sit up and watch him for a second before realizing that Barkley is curled up next to me. He rolls to his side and I grin.
“Good morning, Barkley,” I whisper.
He flops his ear over my leg and I scratch his head. His eyes close as I continue to stroke him. I look back at Eric.
“Let’s get you fed and make breakfast,” I say quietly as I slip out of bed. I start toward the door when hands circle my waist and I yelp. Barkley barks and jumps off the bed.
Eric spins me around carefully. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Breakfast?” I state but it comes out as a question.
“You should be resting,” he says with a pointed look.
“I’m fine. I feel much better today,” I say as I roll my ankle. It twinges a little but it’s not bruised and I can step on it. So whatever I did there was very minimal.
Eric’s hand comes up and feels my head. I wince when he finds the knot.
“That’s not OK. I’ll make you breakfast if you’re hungry,” he offers.
“Eric…you’ve already done so much…” I trail off as I look down. I hate that I can’t take care of myself.
His finger presses under my chin until I’m forced to meet his gaze. “Has no one ever taken care of you, little catastrophe?”
I shrug. “No, not really. I don’t want to be a burden.”
His eyes darken and he looks mad. I instinctively try to pull away but his grip tightens, holding me in place. “I will never hurt you, Ariana. I promise you that. And whoever made you feel like you’re a burden…” He trails off and takes a deep breath. “You are not a burden.”
I swallow. “I…” But words fail me. I don’t know how to respond. No one has ever spoken to me like this.
“Let’s get you showered. I’ll go grab clean clothes from the guesthouse. You can stay here today, so I can keep an eye on you again, OK?”
“It’s really not?—”
His finger comes over my lips, cutting me off. “That’s non-negotiable.”
I give him a pointed look and he chuckles. “What am I going to do with you?” he says softly.
I shrug again. “Make me breakfast?” I suggest, my lips curving up into a smile.
He leans forward as if he wants to kiss me but then stops short. “I can do that,” he replies and then lets me go, stepping back as if I’m made of lava. Maybe he doesn’t feel what I feel?
“There are clean towels in there. I’ll set your clothes on the dresser,” he says as he walks around me and pats his thigh. “Come on, Barkley.” Barkley comes over and follows him downstairs.
I turn and walk into the adjoining bathroom. How many bathrooms does the house have? Even by my father’s standards, this isn’t a small home. I run a finger along a white fluffy towel. I look in the mirror and gasp. My red, curly hair is a mess. I look more pale than normal and my eye makeup is smeared.
I take off my dirty clothes and walk into the enormous shower with a glass door. I let the water run over me as I wash my hair and then my face. As I’m soaping my body, I hear noise outside the door. I realize I didn’t shut it all the way.
“Your clothes are right here,” Eric’s voice says.
“Thank you,” I reply as I run my hands over my body wishing they were Eric’s. My hand massages my breast as I look out at the gap in the door. Eric’s standing there, staring at me. His eyes are dark again but in a completely different way. He looks possessive. I run my hand from my breast down my belly. His eyes trail after it. I’ve never had an erotic moment in my life, but this…this is it. I don’t know what possesses me to do it, but I run my fingers down between my legs. His eyelids close a little as he watches me feel myself. I’m so close but I need him. I need his fingers between my legs. Just when I’m about to verbalize that, he turns.
“Sorry…I’ll be downstairs with your breakfast when you…finish. Just let me know and I can bring it up to you,” he stammers as he walks away, leaving me wanting and needy. I don’t bother finishing because it wouldn’t be good anyhow. I don’t know what it feels like for a man to touch me, but I know it’s gotta be way better than what I can do to myself.
I turn off the shower, and as I’m drying off and putting on my clothes, the realization of what just happened begins permeating my thoughts. That was hot as fuck! And I liked it. I’m not even really embarrassed. I’m…turned on? Yes, yes I am. Shit. I have the super hots for Eric and I don’t even think I care that he’s my boss, hell, that might make it even more hot. I’m so screwed!
I grab my phone from where Eric must have set it on the nightstand and text Katia.
Me: SOS! I need to talk! STAT!
My phone rings.
“I think I want my boss,” I state.
“What?” she asks.
I quickly fill her in and she listens with the occasional, “OMG!” or “Holy shit!” or “That’s fucking hot!”
When I finish, she’s quiet for a beat. “So?” I ask in a lowered voice.
“So, you need to get him out of his head. He clearly realizes he’s about to cross a boundary and is scared shitless. You need to, like…woo him or some shit,” she says.
“Wait? Isn’t that, like, the guy’s role?” I ask in confusion.
“For the love of…it’s modern times here, Jane Austen. Just…I don’t know…” She trails off. “I got it.”
“What?”
“Snerdling,” she states and I know she’s grinning.
“But…I’d be by myself,” I state as I take in the old term for lying in bed doing nothing but reading and curling up under the covers all day. We found that term while researching for a paper when we were younger and it became our favorite.
“No, get him to snerdle with you. You know…in bed,” she says and I can practically see her winking at me.
“I don’t know. You think he’ll go for that?” I ask as I look down at the sweatpants and T-shirt he brought me.
“Yes. And make sure you have on zero underwear or bra,” she adds.
“But…the girls! He’ll, like, notice,” I murmur as I look down at my sports bra.
“Duh! That’s the entire point!” she says as if I’m stupid. “Geez! We need to get you out more often. I feel like I’ve failed you as a bestie.”
I giggle. “OK. I’ll give it a try.”
“And then call me after! I need all the deets!” she says.
I roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah. I know. That’s why you love me. OK. Bye!” she says, drawing out the “bye.”
I hang up. “I’m ready for breakfast,” I call out as I curl up on the bed. I wish I had my makeup and a cute outfit. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I hope I can get Eric to admit he likes me. I hope he likes me. Mostly, I just hope that I’m not about to make this situation ten times worse.