THIRTY-NINE ROWAN

THIRTY-NINE

Rowan

AFTER SEARCHING FOR HER, I find Arabella in the foyer, a dazed expression on her pretty face as she hugs my family members before they leave. Every time the door swings open, a blast of freezing cold air rushes in, and I see the goosebumps dotting her exposed flesh.

Going to her, I slip my arm around her shoulders and she startles, her head jerking up, gaze meeting mine. “Oh. Hey.”

“Hey.” She seems completely out of it, her eyes dull, her skin pale. “Are you all right?”

“No. No, I’m not.” Shaking her head, her face crumples and her eyes are glassy with unshed tears.

My heart freezing, I steer her around and we head for the stairwell. “Let’s get out of here.”

“But I didn’t thank everyone for coming.” She digs her heels in, not budging, and I drop my arm from her shoulders, snagging up her hand instead.

“You’ve already thanked everyone enough. Come on, Bells. Let’s get you into bed.” All thoughts of having sex with this girl go out the window, and I’m okay with it. Too worried by the zombie-like look on her face. How she’s talking like a robot. What happened? Why is she upset? Because it’s obvious. Tears are streaming down her face and little hiccups leave her, like she’s trying to hold back from full-blown sobbing.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

We walk up the stairs in silence, her icy hand curled around mine. I lead her down the hall and she stumbles over her feet, like she’s not watching where she’s going, and I wrap my arm around her waist, steadying her.

“Come on,” I murmur, stopping in front of her closed bedroom door. “Let’s get you inside.”

She goes willingly when I open the door, my arm dropping from her waist. I shut the door and find her standing in the middle of the room, her shoulders shaking.

I go to her and pull her into my arms, letting her sob into my shirt while I run my fingers through her hair. I don’t say any useless words. I don’t think anything would comfort her in this moment and she’ll explain when she’s ready. There’s the tiniest flicker inside me that worries it’s something I did, but what could it be?

This isn’t about me. I can feel it.

“I-I’m s-sorry.” She pulls away slightly, and I do what I always do when she cries—brush her tears away with a gentle sweep of my thumb, absorbing them into my skin. If I could take away all her pain, to make her stop crying, I would.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I-I’m ruining the night.” She takes a deep breath, holds it for a second and then lets it out slowly. Shakily. “I don’t know why I’m so upset.”

“What happened?” I tilt my head, peering at her. Trying to look into her eyes. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand.”

“No.” Arabella slowly shakes her head, sniffling. “I-I need to talk about it. My mother called me.”

“She did? When?”

“When I went to the bathroom. I was washing my hands and she was calling. I thought about my birthday but I had to remind her of it. She forgets about me all the time, and I was just—I was so mad at her, Rowan. Mad at the both of them. They don’t care about me. They never have, and in that particular moment while I listened to her talk, all I could do was compare her and my father to your family. How accepting they are of me. How they showered me with attention and gifts and … and love. My parents don’t love me, or if they do, they don’t know how to show it.” More tears flow and I crush her to me, holding her as close as I can. Trying to absorb all of that pain emanating from her.

I hate this. I hate her parents too. They make her feel like garbage, on what should be a happy day too.

“What exactly did she say to you?” I ask, my voice cautious. I don’t want to pry, but I assume her mother must’ve said something awful.

Arabella lifts her head again, her gaze filled with anger. “She implied that I’m ungrateful and self-absorbed, and maybe I shouldn’t take that apprenticeship. I asked her if she really did it for me or to give her an in with the jeweler, which was dumb on my part. She needs no in. Her money is what gets her whatever she wants—well, my father’s money.”

“And she didn’t like that.”

“Absolutely not.” She shakes her head. “She implied I don’t have what it takes because I questioned her, and that’s unfair. But everything she does is unfair, so at least she stayed consistent.”

“I guess you can always count on her then.” I smile, trying to ease her sadness.

“Right?” A sigh leaves her and she slowly shakes her head, running her hand down my chest. My skin burns beneath the thin fabric of my shirt just from her touch. “I usually don’t let her upset me like this, but she was extra rude. Even hung up on me.”

“I’m sorry.” I curve my fingers around her chin, smoothing my thumb along her jaw. “I hate that she hurt you.”

“I’ll be okay,” Arabella whispers.

I’m hit with the sudden urge to tell her not to go to Paris. To stay here with me. Finish out our senior year together. I don’t want her to leave. What the hell am I going to do when she’s gone? It’ll be weird not seeing her in every single class, every single day. I’ll miss her. She’s become a part of me. If Arabella leaves, she’s going to take my fucking heart with her. And there’s no if about it. She is leaving for another damn country and I can’t do anything about it. Asking her to stay is the most selfish thing I could ever do. I have to let her go.

Even if I don’t want to.

Another shuddery sigh leaves her, and I can tell she’s still rattled. “I’m so tired.”

Her lids are heavy and she sways into me like she can hardly stand.

“Come on, let’s get you undressed.” Pulling away, I take her hand and lead her over to the bed, turning her so that I’m standing behind her. I unzip the back of her dress, my gaze eating up all that bare flesh I’m exposing, but I tell my dirty thoughts to calm the fuck down.

We’re not doing what I’d hoped we’d be doing tonight, and that’s okay. This girl needs me to comfort her, not fuck her into oblivion.

“Are you trying to strip me, Rowan?” A glimmer of normal Bells shines in that one question and I smile, pushing the straps of her dress aside, watching them fall off her shoulders.

“I know you’re sleepy,” I tell her, wanting her to get that I’m not trying anything.

The dress falls in a heap at her feet, revealing that she wore nothing underneath it, and my eyes widen slightly, taking her in. Her body is beautiful, even from behind. Her perfect heart-shaped ass and those long, sexy legs.

I curl my hands into fists, fighting the need to touch her. She turns her head, watching me from over her shoulder and she smiles.

“I’m not made of glass,” she murmurs. “You can touch me.”

I settle my hands on the dip of her waist immediately, curling my fingers into her soft, warm skin. She’s not cold anymore, but her flesh is covered with goosebumps anyway. Most likely from me. “I hate that she made you so fucking sad.”

“Forget her.” Arabella turns to face me, and my gaze drops to her chest because it always does. “Eyes up here, Lancaster.”

Her amused tone makes me smile and I meet her gaze, pulling her into me, my mouth finding hers in a gentle kiss. Despite what she said, I’m still treating her like she’s fragile by restraining myself. Keeping the kiss simple, my tongue swiping at her lips. She parts them immediately and I slide my tongue against hers, savoring her taste. Reveling in the way she molds her body to mine, her fingers going to the front of my shirt and undoing the buttons.

“I need you,” she murmurs against my lips, and my heart trips over itself at the urgency in her voice. “Help me forget, Rowan.”

I unleash on her as if I have no control, which I don’t when it comes to her. My hands are everywhere, wandering all over her naked body as I steer us closer to the bed. Next thing I know she’s falling backward and I’m following after her, careful to brace my weight so I don’t crush her. Not that she seems to mind. She wraps her legs around my hips, grinding her naked pussy on my dick, making me throb.

Making me ache.

I didn’t think we’d do this. Not after spotting her looking devastated not even fifteen minutes ago in the foyer. God, seeing her like that. Broken and vulnerable and in shock, all I wanted to do was hold her close and protect her. I still feel that way. Seeing her hurt, hurts me. And I’ve never felt that way before about anyone, save my mom, and that’s a different kind of emotion.

What I feel for Arabella is all-consuming. Overpowering. Even a little confusing.

It’s love. That’s what it has to be, and I’ve heard the speech time and again over the years from my father. From any Lancaster really. Once you find that one person, it’s over. They are it. Yours forever.

That’s Arabella. She’s it. My forever. But how can I tell her that when she’s going to leave in a matter of weeks? I refuse to hold her back. I am more than willing to sacrifice my feelings for her.

Even if it ends up leaving me with a broken heart.