TWENTY-FOUR ARABELLA

TWENTY-FOUR

Arabella

THE BATHROOM IS QUIET, save for the faint ringing in my ears as I wait for Rowan to say something. Anything. He doesn’t respond at all. Just sits there on the tub’s ledge, big and broody and unbearably handsome. The sudden image of him falling into the tub and settling right over me while he begs for me to never leave him again fills my brain, and breathlessly, I await his response.

“January?” He visibly swallows, the only telltale sign that he might be affected by my revelation. “You’d leave school early.”

“I wouldn’t be missing much.” I lift one shoulder but I’m sure he can’t see it thanks to all the bubbles it’s buried under. “Just prom and graduation. Oh, and senior ditch day.”

“Ditch day isn’t that big of a deal.”

“No, I suppose it’s not.” My voice is hollow, echoing in my head.

“I thought about leaving school early,” he says, as nonchalant as ever. For once, I wish he was chalant. Full of big, overwhelming emotions that would leave me smugly confident about the way he feels about me. “I have enough credits to graduate early.”

“Same.”

He contemplates me, his dark hair falling across his forehead as it’s wont to do. How would he react if I rose up on my knees and pushed the hair out of his eyes? Would his gaze drift downward, watching the bubbles slowly slide down my naked body? Would he touch me? After my reaction only twenty-four hours ago, he’s probably terrified to lay a single finger on me, and I only have myself to blame.

“You can’t pass up this opportunity if that’s what you want to do,” he finally says, his voice firm. “I didn’t know you wanted to be a jewelry designer.”

“It was always just a silly dream, especially when I was younger. Definitely not something I shared with anyone.” It hasn’t been my dream for years, that’s why this offer feels so unexpected.

And odd. Terribly odd.

“I’m not just anyone, Bells.” His deep voice sweeps over my skin, settling right between my thighs where I begin to throb. Not that anything’s going to happen. Knowing us, I’ll say something and ruin it. Or he will. We’re both pretty shit at this … whatever it is we’re doing.

“Right.” I put on a blinding smile, hating myself for what I’m about to say. “You’re an almighty Lancaster. Why wouldn’t I confess my deepest, darkest secrets to you?”

He leans back slightly, taken aback by what I said, no doubt. “I wasn’t meaning that. I was talking about us being …”

“Being what? Friends?” I let my smile fade the slightest bit. “I’ve never had friendly thoughts about you, Rowan.”

His brows draw together in adorable confusion. I’ve got it so bad for this blind, dumb boy. “I don’t believe that.”

“No? What if I told you all of my thoughts involving you and me were absolutely, undoubtedly filthy?”

Sometimes, I wish I wasn’t so impulsive. I just blurt out whatever’s on my mind and damn the consequences.

Rowan blinks once, finally swiping the hair away from his face. “Is that why you’re in the bath, Bells? Because I make you feel dirty?”

I burst out laughing, surprised by his question. Sort of turned on by it too. “Yes, Rowan. I’m a bad, dirty girl who needs to wash away all her sins.”

He does the craziest thing, stretching his arm out, those long fingers dipping into the bubbles. He scoops out a rather large amount, his fingers dipping in the water, the edge of his sleeve getting wet. “How many times would I have to do that until all the bubbles were gone, hmm? Want to take a guess?”

“Are you trying to see me naked, Rowan Lancaster?”

“I already have, Arabella Huntley Thomas.” He lifts a single brow. “What’s your middle name?”

“What’s yours?”

“I asked first.” He scoops another handful of bubbles, pushing them out of the way, and I lift my knee, the water swirling around me. I can’t believe I told him to come in here. But then again, I can. I have nothing to lose and everything to gain from this week with Rowan. It feels like so many things are on the line, especially now with my mother’s unexpected call.

Maybe I could give myself freely to Rowan. Mind, body and soul. After all, we’d only have a short amount of time together before I’d leave for Paris if I do take this apprenticeship. He wouldn’t be able to break my heart in six weeks, would he?

Impossible. That’s not enough time to suffer from a broken heart. Look at how I’ve held it together around him the last few years. I’m a pro at dealing with constant rejection from Rowan. The majority of the time, he doesn’t even realize he’s rejecting me. Utterly clueless, as usual.

“Margaret,” I finally answer in the barest whisper. “It was my grandmother’s name.”

“The royal one?”

I nod. “She was a marchioness.”

“A what?”

“A marchioness. It’s one level below a duchess, which is one level below a princess.” A laugh escapes me. “I am a font of knowledge when it comes to useless royal facts.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” he tells me with the gravest expression I think I’ve ever seen on his face.

“Like I said, it’s useless. Besides, you know everything about American royalty, since your family is part of it.” I level my gaze upon him once more. “Your middle name, Rowan? Are you going to share?”

“Reginald,” Rowan admits, that familiar glower appearing on his face. “And don’t ever repeat that.”

I cover my mouth with my hand, hiding the gasp that escaped. “ Reginald? ”

The glower becomes more glower-y, if that’s even a word. “I told you to never repeat it.”

I drop my hand, making bubbles fly everywhere. “Rowan Reginald Lancaster?”

“It’s my grandfather’s name.” His lips twist into a fierce grimace. “It’s awful.”

“I absolutely adore it,” I say without hesitation.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” I shake my head. “I think it’s cute.”

“It is definitely not cute, Arabella Margaret Huntley Thomas.” He actually chuckles. “That is a mouthful.”

“Oh, you don’t even know so you can’t actually say that.” I am smirking. He is smirking too.

“Did you just make a dirty joke?”

“More like an innuendo.” I sit up straighter, my shoulders rising through the bubbles, though they still cling to my chest. My nipples are hard both from the cold air and his closeness, and I wonder what he might do if I cupped my breasts in an offering to him. Would he take me up on it or run screaming from the room?

I have a feeling he’d take me up on it. And if that doesn’t make my core clench in anticipation, I don’t know what else could.

“I got a lecture from my parents about you,” he says, completely changing the subject.

“No.” I rest my hand against my chest in mock horror, though I do feel bad. “What did they say?”

“That I shouldn’t take advantage of you. My father brought up the sneaking into your room comment again.” He leans back against the wall, his gaze dropping as he fiddles with his wet sleeve. “I wish they would’ve never heard that.”

“It was a close call.” I’m quiet for a moment, watching him. “Think they bought what I said?”

“Definitely. I didn’t know you were such a good liar, Bells.”

“I’m very talented in hiding my true feelings.”

“Oh yeah?”

I nod and lean forward, still wondering if he could fit in the tub with me. It would be cramped but I think it’s possible and would be so worth it. “I’m a mystery wrapped inside a riddle.”

One side of his mouth lifts in a closed-mouth smile. “That’s one way to describe you.”

“Do you think it’s accurate?”

“Definitely. Sometimes I can’t figure you out.”

“Good.” I go on pure instinct and rise up on my knees like I envisioned only moments ago. The water slides down my exposed body, the bubbles clinging precariously to my chest. The bath water covers me from about the hips down but I suppose it doesn’t matter since he saw everything last night. “My goal is to always leave you confused.”

“Bells …” His voice drifts, his gaze raking along my body, lingering on the most important spots and making my skin tingle. “Those bubbles aren’t going to keep you covered for long.”

“Maybe I don’t want them to.” My voice is the barest whisper, my heart beating out of control in my throat. “Maybe you should touch me, Rowan.”

His gaze lifts to mine, his hands remaining too far away from my body. “I thought you said we were moving too fast.”

Knowing I could leave Lancaster Prep—Rowan—in January, now I feel like I’m not moving fast enough. “A girl is allowed to change her mind.”

His gaze shifts downward again, and I can feel the bubbles sliding down my chest, exposing me. My own words leave me feeling exposed too. He’s right, I did say we were moving too fast and we needed a reset, but my emotions are almost frantic with the need to know what it’s like to be with this boy in any capacity possible. Whether it’s more kissing or touching, I’ll take whatever I can get. I would go on my knees for him, and I wouldn’t do that for just anyone. I would also love to see him fall to his knees for me, but I can’t imagine it. I’m the giver in this situation and he’s the taker, and I’m okay with it.

I am.

“Are you fragile, Arabella?”

The softly worded question leaves me reeling and I fall back on my haunches, the water splashing all around me. I don’t like that word. Fragile? It makes me feel weak. “No.” I raise my voice. “I’m not.”

“I didn’t think so.” He shakes his head once, and the next thing I know his hand is on my cheek, cradling the side of my face, and I lean into it, inhaling his delicious scent. The rough feeling of his fingers on my face as they slide along my skin, tracing a path I try my hardest to figure out. “You should get out of the tub. The water is getting cold.”

“You don’t want to join me?”

“I wouldn’t fit.”

“I bet you would if I sat on your lap,” I suggest.

“You sit on my lap and God knows what might happen.”

“Only good things,” I say, my voice solemn.

“Things you’d want to happen?”

“Stop questioning everything and make a move, Rowan. I never figured you’d be so cautious.” I paste on a smile to ease the sting of my words.

His hand drops from my face and for one breathless moment, I believed all was lost. I pushed him away with my impatience and he’s leaving. But no. Instead, he reaches for my hand and rises to his feet, causing me to do the same. His grip tightens on mine when I wobble, the base of the tub slick, and he tilts his head to the side.

“You good?”

I nod and he lets go of my hand to reach for a towel hanging from the heated rack, shaking it out and holding it open for me. I gasp when he wraps the towel around my body and lifts me out of the tub, impressing me with his strength.

That’s when I realize he isn’t wearing his boot. I don’t think he’s been wearing it today at all, and I’m surprised his mother hasn’t scolded him about it. Not that I want to think about his mom in this very moment but …

“You’re not wearing your boot,” I point out.

He grins, looking pleased with himself. “That’s the first time you’ve noticed, huh. I haven’t had it on all day. My parents haven’t said a word about it.”

“You’re bad.” I lightly slap at the front of his hoodie, marveling at the warm, solid strength of him beneath the soft cotton. Ugh, I’d love to strip him naked and kiss him all over his chest. Maybe lick his nipples—would he hate that? Or love it? Rain kisses all over the flat plane of his stomach before I shifted down lower. I’ve never really given a boy a blowjob before—I tried with you-know-who but he pushed me away and said he couldn’t stand the idea of his penis being in my mouth, direct quote.

I shove all thoughts of him out of my brain too because I don’t need to taint the night with those memories.

Once we’re in the bedroom, Rowan sets me on my feet and I can’t help but notice how careful he is with me. As if he does believe I’m fragile, and maybe that’s not such a bad thing. The people closest to me in my life have zero regard for my feelings, save for the one who’s standing in front of me.

My heart swells and I swallow hard, fighting off the overwhelming emotion that threatens to swarm. It doesn’t help that he’s drying me off with the thick, cozy towel that smells of lavender. I close my eyes when I feel his hands press against my chest. My stomach. Always keeping it respectful, my Rowan.

I can’t help the smile that curves my lips at thinking of him as mine. Maybe he is. At least for a little while.

When he tucks the towel closer around my body, his head descends, his mouth brushing against my neck before he whispers, “Are you cold?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“You’re shivering.” His lips move against my ear, causing me to break out in gooseflesh all over. “You’ve got goosebumps.”

Even on my neck. My chest. Everywhere. I can feel them along with the tiny hairs on my body standing straight up. “It’s your fault. You’re being so nice. Taking care of me. No one—”

I stop talking, embarrassed. I shouldn’t say it. He really will believe I’m fragile. A sad little girl in a big mean world.

“No one what?” he asks after a beat of silence. He slips his arms around my waist and hauls me to him, as close as I can get. Despite the towel around me, I feel naked and exposed and raw. I don’t like it.

“No one ever really takes care of me,” I finally admit, hating how scratchy my voice is. “I’ve always had to rely on myself.”

Rowan goes still, and I wait, my heart in my throat, my head bent down so I can’t look at him. Preparing myself for rejection. These are the things a girl should never admit to a boy she likes. I don’t want to look too dependent or needy, though I swear I wouldn’t be. I’m just being honest with him.

His hand touches my jaw, fingers slipping beneath my chin and with the gentlest pressure he encourages me to lift my head, our gazes meeting. I see nothing but tenderness in his eyes, something I’ve never noticed before and I’ve stared into those familiar green eyes a lot over the years. I part my lips, ready to say something when he speaks first.

“If you need me, Bells, you can count on me.” His gaze takes on a fierce gleam that’s difficult to look away from. “I promise.”