Chapter 21
SOSIE
I’ve never known home quite like the warmth of Keats’s embrace.
It was selfish to ask to stay, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to stray from a place I’ve always wished to return to so badly.
Why would I choose a palace where no one truly cares about me when his arms give me the escape I need from my life for one night?
It’s just one night when I don’t return to deal with the consequences of what I’ve always gone along with.
I’m culpable. Sure. I’ve been an accomplice to what I created and what was damaged in the process.
Should he allow me to stay? Absolutely not.
Keats owes me nothing. But he’s already given me everything I didn’t deserve. He stood by my side this evening while I dealt with my so-called fiancé and treating me like I’m not the enemy when he has every right to. So I don’t know if he’ll give me more, a night to escape my life. I can only hope.
The shame and sorrow that overcame me earlier have subsided. I finally take a whole breath without wheezing. I asked him without thinking of how he might feel, so I pull back just enough to see the truth in his eyes when he answers.
He says, “You can stay as long as you need.”
“I don’t need much, just tonight. It’s been a lot and . . .” I crimp my eyes closed, wanting to forget anything that doesn’t exist in his arms. “I’ve made a mess of things. I can’t say sorry enough, but I am. I’m so very sorry, Keats.”
“So am I for not realizing how much it affected you.” He holds me close again, this time not letting me worm my way out of this, though his grip is too light to keep me against my will.
I wouldn’t fight him, or this. It’s like a vacation from everything that drags me down, a reprieve that allows me to breathe without worrying I’m stepping out of line again.
“I don’t know what happened.” As embarrassment begins creeping up my chest, I turn away from him, still in his arms. “God, I must look a mess.”
I start for the bathroom, but my wrist is caught. I turn back, our eyes latching onto each other’s. He says, “Don’t put on a mask for me. Please, Sosie. You don’t have to hide, not from me.”
One truth I’ve always known about him is his integrity. He won’t sacrifice his truth for anyone. I wish I had learned that same lesson. That would have saved me so much heartache. “I guess it all caught up with me.”
“Holding on to that kind of pain, pretending to be what everyone else wants instead of yourself, is exhausting. No one expects you to be perfect—”
“My parents do.”
He takes both my hands in his and says, “Listen, I know you grew up with a lot of bullshit expectations. I grew up with none, so I’m not exactly a voice of reason on this, but I’m going to give you my opinion anyway.
” His grip tightens around my hands as if the importance of what he says is more evident.
“You don’t owe anybody jack shit, Sosie. ”
I almost expect something different, longer, more rah-rah, go get ’em, tiger.
I grin because he didn’t say what I wanted.
He said what I needed to hear. I nod because how can I not?
He’s right. I’ve had them controlling my life for so long.
They can only do it if I continue to allow it.
What did I sacrifice my autonomy for anyway?
Money. A roof over my head. Clothes. Spending what I want.
“I don’t. And I’ve already given so much of myself that I have nothing left.
Keats?” I purse my lips and, feeling stronger, reaffirm my earlier decision to leave.
“I’m going to prove I can stand on my own. ”
“I have no doubt you’ll make that happen.”
I move closer just because I want to. “Hey.” I fidget with the material on the front of his shirt. “I wanted to say something. What you’ve accomplished can’t be taken away from you. My father can’t hurt you now. You’ve made a name and a life he can’t compromise.”
Rubbing his hand over the side of my head, he digs his fingers into my hair. “I graduated, so unless he knows how to have my diploma revoked, he can’t touch me.”
I blink and hold my eyes closed a moment longer as my father’s threat comes floating back to me.
When I reopen them, I’m met with his eyes set so intensely on mine that his concern radiates in that gaze.
“I knew you would graduate one way or the other. I was worried about the threat of a felony, though.” Waffling my head back and forth, I add, “I don’t know if he’s truly that evil, but I also wouldn’t put anything past him anymore. If he’ll treat me—”
“Wait, what are you talking about?” One of my hands is released, but I grip onto his other. “What felony?”
“The champagne. He told you that, right? When did you return my phone? He told me he had you on video stealing the champagne.” Looking down, I shake my head. “We both know you weren’t stealing it.” I look up at him only to be met with anger tingeing his eyes and pressing his lips together. “Keats?”
He turns away from me and walks to the window to look out.
His head is dipped forward, his hand sliding slowly through his hair.
I want to go to him and wrap my arms around his middle to comfort him.
I move closer but pause, careful not to touch as if he’ll break if I do.
I whisper, “He told me he would report it as a crime to have you arrested if I saw you again. But you two argued as well? What did he say to you?”
He looks over his shoulder but doesn’t give me the full view of his eyes, only the corners.
“I thought your father was just another asshole.” He rips his gaze away, letting it drift through the window.
When he crosses his arms over his chest, I can see the rise and fall of his chest from his heavy breaths.
“Even categorizing him as overprotective of his only daughter.”
Turning around, he just looks at me as if he finally sees my father for who he is. I know that look. Disappointment. Anger. Resolve. Revenge. Acceptance. I’ve felt all these emotions and more, separately and all at the same time. Nothing ever changes.
He says, “He doesn’t care about you.”
“No, he doesn’t.” I drop my head in the shame my father cultivated to keep the upper hand.
There’s a sudden desperation in the way he cups my face.
“He uses you to get his way. He’ll hurt you to get what he wants.
Fuck, Sosie. Your father is an asshole, but really, he’s a monster.
” He hugs me to him and whispers, “I don’t know how you stayed so strong for so long.
You’re really incredible, you know that? ”
I smile against him even though he can’t see it. It’s not for him, though. It’s for me. To have someone validate my feelings wasn’t something I knew I needed.
In the years we’ve known each other, I’ve watched him turn from a guy with boyish charm to a man who owns every inch of his body and every decision he makes and stands by them with conviction.
Fear doesn’t seem to be something he carries even when under threat.
Though this is so much emotional exertion, I breathe a sigh of relief because I know we’re on the same side of this scenario. “What did he say to you?”
He sits on the chair, falling back as if he’s feeling the same weight lifted.
“He threatened to end my scholarships and get me kicked out of school.” He scoffs, a laugh seemingly too far from finding humor in the situation.
I sit across from him on the edge of the bed again.
This time, no hard feelings are getting in the way, no nerves to tiptoe over so we don’t hurt one another.
The truth is finally coming out, and the lights shining down reveal that we were both played as much as the other.
“He told me he felt sorry for me and that you were only using me to get back at him.”
“That’s not true, Keats. I promise you. If . . .” I take a breath to collect my thoughts. Anger keeps tugging at my rationale to drag me into a fight with him, which I’d regret. I won’t let my father win. Not again. “If he hadn’t threatened you the way he did, I would have left that night.”
A smirk starts creeping up the right side of his face. “Where would you have gone?”
“Straight into your arms.” I can only imagine how different things could have been all these years if I hadn’t lost that battle with my father.
“His worst nightmare.” He pats his leg. “Come here.”
I go because anytime I’m close to him feels like I’ve won the war.
As soon as I settle onto his lap, his hands take hold of my hips, and he rubs gently.
The thin material of the dress with not much underneath means the heat from his hand warms my skin.
I lost track of time and let my body ease against his to rest my head on his shoulder.
Touching his chin, I wait for him to look at me before I say, “I would have chosen you, Poet.”
“I know. I know that now.” He kisses my forehead and lingers against the surface.
I don’t know what he’s thinking. Maybe he’s wondering, like I am, whether this is the beginning or just another one-time thing.
Maybe how much time we’ve lost, or was the time apart always needed?
I’m not sure they’re questions we can answer, but they linger as his lips did.
Dropping his head back like it weighs a ton, he says, “What a night, huh? I go from the highest of highs with my deal being announced to—”
“The lowest of lows being stuck with me?” I burst out laughing, knowing he’d never think that. But the laughter feels good, that we can laugh together with our past no longer unresolved between us, lightens my entire being.
He rests his hand on the hem that’s slipped up my thigh.
The mere touch of his finger on my skin creates enough heat to make me long to be with him.
The feel of our bodies connecting again isn’t just a faint memory.
My body awakens, the desire to kiss him tingles on my lips, to make love, and to feel the connection we almost lost again.
Resting my head back next to his, I remember feeling that ache between my legs for days.
The pain in my heart never went away. Not until tonight.
Leaning over, he kisses the exposed length of my neck, the tip of his tongue dipping out to taste me there.
A plume of desire inflates my chest, causing me to gasp quietly for air. “It’s been so long,” I whisper, knowing sex is not something we should jump back into this quickly. But my body is apparently in disagreement, a traitor when it comes to Keats.
He slides a hand up my side and over my ribs. The tips of his fingers add pressure, evoking a moan from me. I should be worried about how he perceives me, but I can’t seem to care. The one thing my Poet has always done is accept me for who I am.
Strangers would argue we’ve known each other for mere hours, but our relationship extends years, our hearts tied together across this city. I hated our time apart, cursed it through tears and anguish, but I could survive knowing he still existed in this world.
Angling on his lap, I hold his face while I run my lips across his neck.
The scruff is sharp but turns me on, making me alive again.
He moves his hand higher until he’s cupping my breast, squeezing and kneading, causing my nipples to harden.
My hips sink and rise, the need between my legs already deciding what comes next.
Turning to me, he meets my eyes as he readjusts under me.
His hand leaves my body as he takes hold of my chin. “What are we doing, Spark?”
“I don’t know, but should it feel this good?”
He chuckles. “It’s you and me. It’s always going to be this good.”
I gobble up his confidence like an aphrodisiac. But before I get lost in kisses and hopefully more, I say, “I need you to know something.”
“What is it?”
In a short span of this reunion, I’ve already discovered that this man is better than a memory could have been, but when I felt alone, he’s my biggest ally.
“I’m leaving.” I’m quick to make the correction.
“My house, my parents’ house. I had already decided during dinner that I was leaving.
The pub was only one last favor before I would be gone forever. ”
I’ve not accomplished much of anything worthy of pride in my life, but it still shines in his eyes when he looks at me. Brushing his fingers over my bare shoulder, he says, “You should have kept the ring.” His smile quirks to one side with the late-hour exhaustion hanging on the lower end.
I burst out laughing. “Now, why would a girl like me need a four-carat diamond ring?”
Chuckling, he replies, “The money gone from his bank account would be a good reminder of your absence.”
I sweep my loose ponytail forward over my shoulder and twirl my finger around the end of the lace. “I don’t need a ring or his money.” I kiss him, but before our lips part, I whisper, “I have a shoelace that means way more to me.”