Chapter Eleven #2
I slip from my own clothes, just leaving my boxers in place. I find an oversized man’s hoodie in the closet and slip it on.
I glance at the mess on the bed. We need somewhere quiet and clean, so I lead her back out into the hall and across the landing to another door.
A couple is tangled on the bed, half-clothed and half-drunk, and they freeze when they see me standing there like some wet, pissed-off avenger with a broken girl in my arms.
“Out,” I growl.
They scramble up without arguing, grabbing clothes and shoes and stumbling past me like they can feel the rage rolling off me. I kick the door shut behind them and lock it. Then I set Emmie down carefully on the clean bed.
She sits still for a second, shoulders hunched. Then, her hands fly to her face, and she starts to sob. Not the pretty, quiet kind. The messy, gut-wrenching, breaking kind.
“I hate them,” she chokes out. “I hate her; I hate me. I was just . . . I just wanted to fit in and-and I’m so stupid. ”
“You’re not stupid,” I say, sitting beside her. “None of this is your fault.”
“I saw you kiss her,” she blurts, and the words are soaked in pain. “Bella. I saw you. And I still went upstairs with her best friend, like an idiot.”
My jaw clenches. My rejection of Bella followed that kiss, and then this happened. It’s not a coincidence. “That wasn’t- she kissed me, Em.”
She laughs bitterly, wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of my hoodie. “It doesn’t matter.”
“I didn’t kiss her back.”
She stares into my eyes, searching for the truth. Her face is red and blotchy and still perfect in all the ways that matter. “I don’t want to be here,” she whispers.
“I know.” I pull her into me, holding her tight against my chest, resting my chin on top of her head. “But you’re safe now.”
She doesn’t say anything. Just keeps crying, quieter now. And I stay there, holding her, until the worst of it passes.
Half an hour goes by. She’s tucked into my side now, her face hidden in my hoodie, and I can finally feel her breathing start to slow. The storm of sobs has passed, but I don’t move. I don’t want to. I want to stay right here until everything stops hurting.
She shifts slightly; her voice muffled. “I’m sorry I ruined your night.”
“You didn’t ruin anything,” I say. “They did. And you know what? Screw them.”
She gives a faint huff of a laugh. “I shouldn’t have come. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You were looking for an escape,” I mutter. “From our parents, from me. I should have said no. I shouldn’t have let you come.”
She pulls back enough to look at me, mascara smudged beneath her eyes. “In the mood I was in, do you think you’d have stopped me?” She offers a small smile.
“Probably not,” I agree. “They’re idiots, Em. All of them. I didn’t see it before, but you were right.”
That makes her go quiet. She presses her cheek back to my chest, and I hold her a little tighter. I think she might fall asleep, but then she speaks, soft, cautious.
“I didn’t want my mum with your dad because,” She swallows.
“Because I’ve seen what happens when she picks the wrong guy.
” I don’t interrupt; I just listen. “My dad was the first. He used to hit her. Slam doors. Break things. Then cry and beg and do it all over again. I was seven the first time I saw her with a black eye.” Her voice wobbles, but she keeps going.
“After him, there were others. Different faces. Same damage. And each one chipped away at her a little more. Until one day she just wasn’t her anymore.
” I feel my gut twist. “She only just started smiling again this year,” she says, almost like she’s trying to convince herself.
“And then Joel came a long and I wanted him to prove me wrong. When we saw the mess, the broken plates, it just all came back. And I can’t let her fall again.
Not this time. Not when she barely made it back before. ”
“Em,” I whisper. “I didn’t know.”
She nods. “Nobody does. I didn’t want to be the girl with the battered mum. So, I acted like we were normal.”
I rest my hand over hers. “You didn’t act. You are normal. Normal and strong as hell.”
She gives me a tired look. “You’re gonna make me cry again.”
“Sorry.” I half smile. “Can I tell you something? About Joel.” She shifts beside me like she’s bracing for it.
“He wasn’t always like this. Honestly. When I was a kid, he was great.
The dad who made pancakes with faces and ran around the yard with water guns.
He used to sing in the car like an idiot. He treated my mum like gold.”
“So what happened?” she whispers.
“She left,” I say. “When I was sixteen. Just packed up and disappeared. No warning, no goodbye. We woke up one day and she was gone.”
Emmie looks up. “Why?”
“No idea. She left a note that said, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore.’ And that was it. She changed her number, moved away, cut ties. She doesn’t even want to see me. I tried. Believe me.”
“That’s awful,” she says, her voice barely a whisper.
“Yeah. Joel unravelled after that. Started drinking. Got angry. Lost his job for a while. I think he really thought she was it, you know? Like once she left, he just couldn’t figure out how to be.”
She’s silent for a moment, before saying, “So we’re both scared of our parents breaking the people we love.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
Her fingers curl around mine. “I don’t hate you, Kai. I was just hurt. And mad. And stupid.”
“I know,” I say. “And I don’t hate you either. Not even when you’re being a smart-arse.”
She smiles into my hoodie, and it’s the first time all night she’s looked like herself again.
She tips her head back, and our eyes meet, for a second; I think she’s going to speak, but instead, she tugs my head closer until our lips are just a breath apart. “Kiss me.”
It’s the words I didn’t know how much I needed until she said them out loud and I slam my lips to hers in a bruising kiss. She returns it with just as much hunger, her fingers raking through my hair as she twists against me.
My hands grip her waist, but I slow it down, making it softer. I want her to know she’s important to me, and not just some girl at a party.
She pulls back just enough to whisper, “I want you.”
My heart stutters. “Em -”
“I want you to show me.” Her voice is barely there. “I’ve never, yah know.”
She doesn’t need to say it. I see the nerves in her eyes, feel the shift in the air between us. I press my forehead to hers, breathing her in. “It’s been a long night, Em and your head is all over the place. You’ll regret this tomorrow.”
“Please,” she murmurs, and I gasp as her hand strokes over my shorts.
I close my eyes for a minute, trying to regain some control as her hand continues to explore me. “Is this okay?” she whispers, kissing along my jaw.
Her hand goes into my shorts, gripping me. I groan. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. “Are you sure about this, Em?” I ask, my voice strained.
She nods, slow and steady. “I’ve never been surer of anything.”
I kiss her again, slower this time. “Okay,” I whisper. “But we do this your way. You tell me to stop, I stop.”
“Okay.”
I run my thumb gently across her cheek, then down her jaw. “I’m not going to rush you.”
She exhales shakily. “I don’t want slow. I just want you .”
I brace myself over her, and her legs fall apart.
I trail kisses over her chest, pushing my hand up her vest and cupping her breast. She inhales sharply, her eyes fluttering closed as I roll her nipple between my fingers.
Her breathing becomes laboured as I push her top up, and she lifts it over her head, dropping it to the floor.
I stare down at her breasts, running my tongue over my lower lip.
“Perfect,” I mutter, lowering my mouth to her nipple and sucking it into my mouth.
Her back arches from the bed and her fingers run into my hair, tugging gently at the roots as she relaxes into the mattress.
I push onto my knees and her eyes shoot open. She watches as I lift the hoody over my head and throw it to the ground. And as I push my damp boxers away, her eyes widen. “Can I touch you?” she asks, her words sounding breathless.
I nod, rolling onto my back. Emmie stands, removing the shorts and kicking them off. Then she kneels beside me on the bed, her expression unsure and nervous. I gently run my fingers up her side. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
She nods. “I want to. I just don’t know how.”
“Do whatever feels right,” I say. “This is what I like,” I add, taking her hand and wrapping it around my erection.
She watches, her brow furrowed in concentration as I place my hand over hers and begin to move it up and down.
I inhale, my eyes tracing every freckle on her face, absorbing every blush.
“I’ve never done anything ,” she says, her eyes not quite meeting mine.
“You’re doing amazing,” I reassure her.
“Can I-” she takes a breath. “With my mouth.”
“If you want to do that. You don’t have to.”
She smiles, nodding. “I want to.” I watch in amazement as she lowers her mouth and gently licks the bead of pre-cum.
She screws her nose up at the taste, and I laugh, stroking a hand down her hair.
She tries again, this time sucking the tip, and swirling her tongue around it like it’s a lollipop.
I gasp, my entire body jerking as I fight the urge to come.
She spends some time exploring. Licking, kissing, sucking until I can’t take it anymore and drag her to lay down.
“My turn,” I say with a wicked grin.