Chapter 40 “Paper Crown” - Alec Benjamin
“Paper Crown” - Alec Benjamin
Pierce
Maeve looks genuinely surprised when I return with the final clue, which stings a bit. What do I need to do to finally earn her trust? She’ll lower her walls for brief moments, but as soon as she feels the slightest bit threatened, they lock back into place.
I hand her the plate I scavenged from the kitchen. “Lux was asking about you.”
Maeve flicks her dark eyes up at me before taking a bite of halibut. “What did you tell her?”
“That you were probably in the shower and going to bed right after.” Sitting down beside her on the sofa, I keep my hands busy with my own food so I don’t haul her into my lap.
She must have slipped back to her room while I was gone, because she’s no longer wearing the dress she had on earlier. Instead, she’s in tiny floral-print pajamas. The straps of her camisole are as thin as thread, and if she stands up, I doubt her shorts will cover her ass.
It’s not the fact that she changed that gets me—it’s that she came back to my room afterward.
We eat our food mostly in silence, nothing but the clink of our forks against the dinnerware echoing through the room. I wonder if she wishes she were downstairs with everyone else, if she wishes she were with him instead of me.
Maeve doesn’t usually tolerate prolonged periods of silence.
They make her highly uncomfortable, and she fills them at the first opportunity.
The fact that she’s not doing that now can only mean one of two things: either she’s pissed and on the verge of erupting, or she’s relaxed enough that she can sit here with me without saying a word.
I hope to god it’s the latter.
She sticks the last bite of fish into her mouth, and I hold out my hand for her empty plate. Stacking it with mine, I set both of them on the floor. I’ll take them down later. I’m not risking someone stopping me downstairs, or worse, Maeve running off while I’m gone.
I sink back into the sofa and let out a deep breath. “Who knew strolling through the woods would be so exhausting?”
“That was no stroll,” she says, lifting her legs and placing them in my lap. “That was a bloody quest.”
Running my hands down her calves, careful to avoid her injury, I sniff a laugh. “You wouldn’t survive thirty minutes out there on your own.”
“Obviously.” A shudder runs through her body. “Why would anyone want bragging rights to that?” She pulls her phone out and starts tapping at the screen.
I use the opportunity to study her without her freaking out. Other than the scrape on her leg, the only evidence of our escapades today is the small bit of color on her cheeks and the tiny scratch on her forehead. I press my thumb to it. “Does this hurt?”
She lifts her eyes distractedly before immediately dropping them back down. “No.”
Her legs are as smooth as butter, and I drag my hands all the way down to her ankles. I’ve touched her body a thousand times, but it’s nearly always been in a sexual context, at least more recently. But this is nice, sitting here with her like this, like—fuck, like a couple.
Taking her foot in my hand, I begin massaging it. After a few seconds, Maeve tilts her head back against the arm of the sofa and moans. “That feels incredible.”
I watch her as I work her tender muscles. She’s so fucking beautiful, it hurts to look at her. There’s a physical ache in my chest as I consider the gulf that still lies between us—a gulf she has no desire to bridge.
What will it take to win her heart? I don’t even care whether this is love or not. If it is, screw it. I just know I want it all, and I want it with her. Call it love, call it lust, call it fucking unicorns and rainbows. I don’t give a shit.
I just want her.
“Can I ask you something?” I say.
Her eyes are closed, head still resting on the sofa. “That depends.”
“On?”
“On whether I want to answer or not.”
“I brought you the final clue.”
Several beats pass before she squints at me with one eye. “Fine.”
I switch to rubbing her other foot. “Have you ever been in love?”
Her muscles tense immediately, and she lifts her head to look at me. A tiny crater forms between her brows. “Why?”
“I was just curious.”
“No.” She sighs and flops backward again. “Have you?”
“Maybe,” I say quietly. “Just once.”
Bolting upright, she gapes at me. “With who?”
I smile sheepishly and hold on to her legs to keep them from tumbling from my lap. “No one you’d know.”
“Liar!” She socks me in the arm. “I know everyone you’ve dated.”
I let myself get lost in her eyes for just a second. “I never said it was someone I dated.”
“I want details.”
“Well, you’re not getting them.” I carefully lower her legs to the floor. It’s time to get this train back onto a track I can control.
“You’re so unfair,” she says.
I shift forward and rest my elbows on my knees. “I’ve been called worse. Mostly by you.” I glance over my shoulder to let her know I’m teasing.
She shifts until she’s right beside me, then leans her head on my shoulder.
I freeze. I can’t fucking move. Maeve has her head resting in the crook of my neck, and I feel like a teenage boy who’s never kissed anyone before.
She reaches for my hand and threads our fingers together. Her palm is so tiny that mine swallows it up, hiding it from view. “Why do you stay?” she whispers.
Blood starts working its way through my veins again, and I take a steadying breath. “Stay where?”
“With me.”
Fuck my life. “Why wouldn’t I stay with you?” My voice sounds scratchy.
She strokes my arm with her free hand. “No one else ever does.”
I move my head to look at her, but she has hers tucked so closely against me that her face is hidden. “That’s their loss.”
She doesn’t say anything. I wish I could wrap my arms around her, but she’s clutching my hand so tightly I wouldn’t dream of prying her off.
“Maeve?” I murmur into her hair. “You believe me, don’t you?”
The laugh that slips past her lips borders on hysterical. “Of course.”
“Oh, baby.” Screw what she wants. I’m more worried about what she needs. Shifting her into my lap, I wrap my arm around her and tug her as close as I possibly can. She doesn’t even put up a fight.
“I keep waiting for you to leave,” she says against my shirt.
I squeeze her even tighter. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She brings her hand up and rests it against my chest. Nothing in the world has ever made me feel like more of a man than that small gesture. “I want to trust you. I really do.” Her voice is tiny and hesitant.
“Shhh. I know.”
“There was a teacher.” Her fingers tremble against my shirt. “When I was in primary school.”
I wait for her to continue, afraid that if I say a word, she’ll clam up.
“I was ten. He was—well, it doesn’t matter how old he was. He was my teacher.” Her whole body is shaking now, and I wish there was a way I could wrap her within myself, hide her from whatever demons are chasing her.
I’m terrified of what she’s about to tell me. Whatever it is, judging by the way she is shattering in my arms, I know it can’t be good. Inhaling a measured breath through my nose, I remind myself to stay calm.
“He took a special interest in me. That’s what my mother called it. ‘A special interest in our special girl,’ she’d say.” Bitterness coats Maeve’s words. “He used to ‘tutor’ me. I wasn’t struggling in school, but I didn’t know any better. If an adult said something back then, I believed them.”
My heart is pounding so hard, I have no doubt she can hear it. I have to fight to keep my hands flat on her back, because all they want to do is clench into fists.
“It didn’t take me long to realize the tutoring had little to do with my schoolwork and more to do with—” Her voice breaks, and I cradle her jaw in my hand.
“I’m right here,” I tell her. “I’ve got you.”
She sniffs. “He made me do these horrible, atrocious things to him. And when I told my parents, they said we couldn’t afford the scandal.”
My vision has gone red. Blood no longer runs through my veins, just fury. I’m going to find this sorry excuse of a human and make him pay for what he did to my girl. “What happened to him?” I ask in as measured of a tone as I can manage, which isn’t very.
I can feel the faint shrug of her shoulders against me, and she says, “I don’t know. I’m guessing he’s still teaching. It was my last year of primary, so I moved to the Academy after that.”
“He’ll be lucky to be alive once I’m through with him,” I growl.
“Pierce, please don’t,” she says, once again placing her hand on my chest. “That’s not why I told you.”
All this time, all these years of getting revenge for the stupidest shit, and she doesn’t want me to go after the one guy who deserves to die? We’ll see about that.
Things make a lot more sense now, though. The way she has to be in control all the time. The way she never opens up, never lets anyone in. Her skittishness when it comes to sex. Her goddamn fortress of an exterior.
When you’ve been violated like that, you deserve a fucking fortress.
“Maeve,” I say quietly.
She nuzzles closer, and my heart bleeds pain and joy in the same gush.
“Earlier, you asked who I was in love with.” I wait for her to say something, but she stays quiet. I gather my courage, ready to show her that someone is ready to fight for her, that she is worth fighting for. “It’s you. I think I’m in love with you.”
When she still doesn’t say anything, I crane my neck to see her face. Her eyes are closed, her lips slightly parted.
She’s fallen asleep in my arms.