CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Then
She’d become the belle of the ball seemingly overnight.
The most popular girl at her high school. Hottest cheerleader on the squad. Watching her from the shadows—something he did often once he realized their time together wasn’t nearly enough for him—made him both proud and feral with possessiveness.
Her accent was now so flawlessly American no one could ever guess she’d set foot outside this country before. She’d reached full bloom, and he could finally see who and what she was under the thorns that hid her.
Tierney Callaghan was witty, fashionable, and mysterious but also kindhearted.
He’d watched her stand up to bullies on behalf of the quiet kids, discreetly pay for other people’s lunches, and always speak her mind, even when her opinion differed from the mainstream.
Boys were enamored with her, begging her for a chance. She rejected all of them.
“I have a boyfriend,” she announced proudly each time some poor bastard mustered up the courage to approach her. “He lives in Long Island. You don’t wanna mess with him.”
Achilles knew he was the boyfriend, even though he was still too chickenshit to kiss her.
They did everything else, though. He took her to the movies, snuck into her room every night, bought her flowers and gifts, and listened to her vent for hours.
She did his homework for him. Stitched up his wounds and kissed them better.
Never judged or berated him for what he did.
She was untouchable. Goddess tier. And under his protection.
One night, she was invited to a house party where she’d gotten drunk. It was the first time she drank alcohol. It was just two Solo cups, but it made his stomach churn with worry and protectiveness.
He watched from the window, behind manicured bushes, as she gobbled up the neon-red liquid, ready to pounce when needed. He wasn’t leaving anything to chance. He’d let her have her fun but keep her safe in the process.
Eventually, at eleven, the host announced she didn’t want to get in trouble and sent everyone home. Tierney staggered on her too-high heels out the pretty colonial house, zigzagging into the night in her apartment block’s direction.
He stayed four or five paces behind, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket, lowering his head to stay incognito. They’d texted all night and she promised him Tiernan was going to pick her up, but of course, Tierney being Tierney, she didn’t want to bother her brother.
It was fine by him, though. He never trusted that fucker with her precious life the way he did himself.
They were almost at her building when she turned around sharply out of nowhere and tossed her arms in the air. “Why don’t you kiss me?”
It took him a moment to get his shit together and realize she knew he was following her. And that the part that bothered her wasn’t the fact that he did but that he still hadn’t kissed her.
Tierney parked a hand on her waist. “Well?”
“I—I—uh.” Very eloquent, Achilles. Great fucking job. Please join the debate club, you verbal wizard, he thought.
“And don’t tell me it’s because you’re not attracted to me.” She stubbed her finger in his face, stepping closer. “Because I see the way your pants tent every time I touch you.” Pause. “Which is A LOT.” Another pause. “God, you’re really bad at social cues, huh?”
He wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole. “H—how long have you known I’ve been following you?” he stammered.
“Since the first day I met you?” She stopped herself from snorting incredulously. Something about the warmth in his eyes completely dismantled the frustration she’d built over the months and years against him. “You’re not as discreet as you think, but don’t change the subject.”
He wouldn’t dream of it. He decided early on he’d give her the truth. He respected and cherished her too much to ever lie to her.
“I—I thought you wanted to be friends.”
“That’s the last thing I want!” she cried out. “I want us to be together. I want to consume every fiber of your soul and body. That’s what I want.”
“Y—you do. I mean, you are,” he choked out. “I was just scared you’d reject me.”
“Why would I reject you?” She raged, grabbing the collar of his jacket, wanting to shake him. “I spend every free moment with you and refer to you as my boyfriend. What more do you need?”
“I—I can’t lose you.” The very thought sent a violent shiver down his spine. She wasn’t a crush or a high school sweetheart or any of that crap. She was his life. Plain and simple. The only good thing about his day.
“Is it because our families would never let us be together?” She put a hand on his cheek, tilting his face down to look at her. “Is it because your father would never accept me?”
“N—no. I don’t care about any of that. I only care about you.”
“I only care about you, too.”
His face was ablaze. Not even his natural deep tan could hide what she did to him.
But ultimately, she was braver than him because she took the step necessary to eat all the space between them.
Their bodies collided, molding into one frame.
She ran her fingers through his hair a delicious shade of chestnut brown she wished his children would inherit when he found another girl—a whole girl—to marry and have children with.
She couldn’t have him forever. But she could have him tonight.
And tonight would have to be enough for her.
He trembled against her flesh, and she wanted to die, die, die, knowing he’d one day marry someone else.
She did it again, testing her power over him as if she’d discovered a new magic, this time running her fingers along the side of his face. Another quiver rocked his body, making him stagger back.
“Chelovek.” She brushed the tip of her nose against his, taking his cheeks in her hands, and breathing him in.
The look on his face broke her heart into a million pieces.
He looked panicked, almost in pain. She wondered if it was because she was touching him or because he was being touched at all.
She guessed it was a bit of both. He was starved for human affection.
She closed her eyes, forcing herself to pull away.
“If you don’t want to kiss, we don’t have to.
I was just kidding,” she whispered, stroking his face.
She had an odd sensation, like her heart was swelling, becoming much bigger than something her rib cage could ever contain.
“Well, half kidding. I’d love to kiss you, Achilles, but I’m willing to wait.
We’ve both been through so much and I never want to…
” She swallowed. “I never want you to feel like you have to do something you don’t want to.
I’ll call you tomorrow.” She kissed his cheek gingerly and shot him a nervous smile, her facade slipping.
No one ever managed to peer past the mask she put on when she faced the world. No one but Achilles. He saw her for who she truly was. And he loved her all the same.
He stared at her pleadingly, desperate for something he didn’t have words for. She turned around and walked away. Her knees were jelly.
Keep walking, she told herself. Give him his space.
This was the part where he’d grab her waist and kiss her silly. A passionate, all-consuming kiss that’d put every Hallmark movie to shame.
It didn’t happen that way.
In reality, she took the first, then second, then third stair to her building. When she reached the fourth, she heard a loud thump. She turned around. Achilles was at her feet, planted face down on the sidewalk.
“What happened?” she gasped.
“I tried to kiss you, but then you turned around too fast, and…” He didn’t have to finish.
She rushed down, falling to her knees, just as he rose up. Their heads knocked together. She laughed. He sucked in a breath. And then he put his lips on hers, both of them on their knees.
It was their first kiss, and as such, it started clumsily.
The pressure was too soft, then too hard.
When they opened their mouths, their teeth clashed, and they grinned into each other’s lips.
She was the first to taste him, but once he had a taste of her, the monster he kept so tightly leashed around her broke off its chains.
He grabbed the back of her neck and jerked her close.
His arousal throbbed through his pants, and she ground against it on pure instinct, grinning as he let loose a wretched grunt.
His tongue explored her mouth, and she linked her hands over his shoulders, moaning into his mouth.
“Is this okay?” He broke off the kiss for a second, dropping his gaze to watch the space between them as her sex rubbed against his penis like she was trying to light them both on fire.
“Yeah,” she panted. “Oh God, yeah.”
Their lips fused back together.
Tierney’s happiness at finally being kissed by him was quickly replaced with an urgent fireball of a knot between her thighs. A delicious, warm pressure she needed to unfurl.
They kissed and ground against each other until their lips were raw, their mouths dry, their breath a little sour.
Achilles stood up first, helping her to her feet with gentle hands. He kissed the back of her hand and grinned. “Will you marry me?”
“Now?” She giggled, but inside, her flame had been doused. She’d heard Don Vello had great plans for his favorite son. He wanted Achilles to marry underworld royalty. Someone from a sizeable organization, like the Outfit or the Bratva.
“Not right this second, but as soon as we’re eighteen,” he said.
“But your dad—”
“He’ll be fine,” he said, cutting her off. “I’ll deal with him. He cares more about heirs than about pedigree anyway. I’ll figure it out.”
Another thing she couldn’t give him. Heirs to continue the Ferrante legacy.
“No one’s ever gonna believe you’re my girlfriend.” He wanted to shout it from the damn rooftops. “I’m a weirdo loner at my school and you’re Little Miss Popular.”
“Then how about some proof?” She pulled out her burgundy lipstick, applying it to her luscious lips, and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the side of his throat. “Here. Something to remember me by.”
“This sounds like a goodbye,” he accused.
She shook her head. “We rarely know when will be the last time we see someone we love. So I want to make sure every time we say goodbye, I make you happy.”
“You wanna make me happy?”
She nodded. “More than anything.”
“Then promise me one thing.”
She stared at him expectantly.
“That we’ll always be honest with each other.”
“Always.” She already knew she was going to break the promise. She couldn’t tell him why they couldn’t marry. The shame was killing her.
“Truth?” Achilles asked.
“Truth.” Her voice trembled.
“You’re the only good thing about my life.”
His next stop from her doorstep was a tattoo parlor down the street. He inked her kiss to his neck, a reminder he belonged to her and always would.
At sixteen, it was his first tattoo, and he didn’t know it yet, but he’d spend the next decade inking every last inch of his body, chasing a thrill that would never come again.
On his way back home, he pushed away the tiny bit of doubt that always bothered him.
The fact that her eyes never smiled when she did.
And that her laugh seemed to die as soon as she was sure no one was watching.
That every time he spoke about the future, she retreated to a place in her mind where he couldn’t reach her.
And that she felt very fucking temporary, for something he wanted to hold on to forever.