Fool for Love (Believe #2) (9 page)

“What kind of details?” I ask her, feeling slightly uneasy.

“You know, like what he looks like, how old he is, stuff like that,” she adds. I can hear the frustration in her voice.

“Oh…” That’s easy enough. “You know that Swedish model, Ben Dahlhaus?” I ask her. “Try to picture him with more muscle on him and about fifteen years older, and you’ve got my landlord.”

“Not really, but let me just go online and search for a pic. What’s his name again?”

“Garrett Thompson,” I whisper.

“Hang on,” she says, and I wait once more.

Emma remains quiet, and I drum my fingers on the armrest of the couch, getting more anxious by the second.

“Oooh,” she finally whispers, making me chuckle.

“Wow – holy – I mean, wow,” she stutters.

I smile.

“Hey, you’re a married woman, you’re not allowed to drool over other men,” I tease her.

“Daniel and I aren’t married yet,” she murmurs distractedly, but I certainly take notice.

Wait…not married yet?

Before I can ask her what she means by that, she continues.

“Besides, just because I’m in a very happy, fulfilling relationship doesn’t prevent me from appreciating other men’s physical attributes.”

“How very modern,” I reply, my voice dry.

“Isn’t it just? But enough about that. What are you going to do?”

“What can I do? My funds are dwindling rapidly, I need to find a job as soon as possible, and I refuse to come home early.”

“Don’t you think your parents –?”

“Please don’t finish that thought, Em,” I interrupt her. “I refuse to speak to them. You know that. I thought you understood?” I ask, my voice rising of its own accord.

“I know,” she sighs. “I’m on your side, always and forever. You know that, right?”

I rub my eyes, suddenly exhausted beyond belief.

“I know,” I whisper. “I’ll think of something. Please don’t worry about me, Emma.”

She hesitates, but I’m not backing down on this.

Somehow, she must be able to detect my determination across the oceans separating us, because she merely says, “Please call me if you need anything, honey. Both Daniel and I are here for you.”

“Thank you. I promise I will.”

We stay silent for a while, both lost in thought, but then I notice the time on the TV.

Groaning, I say, “I think it’s time I turn in, Emma. It’s getting a bit late here, and I need to get up bright and early in the morning. I have to do some job hunting.”

“Okay, but text me tomorrow and let me know how things are going, please.”

I nod. “I will. Say
‘hi’
to Daniel for me.”

“Of course. It was great to hear your voice, Suzy. I hope you sleep well.”

“Thank you. We’ll talk again soon. I love you,” I whisper, trying to swallow the lump in my throat.

“I love you, too,” Emma whispers back. “Always and forever.”

“Bye,” I croak out and quickly end the call.

I allow myself to shed a few tears, because I miss my friend so much, but not for long. I turn off the TV and decide to let the lamp on the coffee table stay on so that Garrett won’t have to stumble his way through the darkness when he gets home. Then I find some extra blankets and pillows in the walk-in closet and place them on the pull-out.

After I’ve prepared myself for the night – including putting on a nightie instead of sleeping in the nude like I usually do – I brush my teeth while staring intently at my reflection in the mirror above the sink. I don’t see the waif-like creature Garrett compared me to earlier. I only see a young, skinny, boring girl with black rings underneath her eyes staring back at me. One feature I like, though, is that my ash-blonde, wavy hair isn’t as short as it used to be but now ends just above my shoulders, and I run my fingers through the locks. It needs a good trimming soon.

I’m lost…and I don’t know how to find my way back to the happy, confident person I was less than a year ago.

Where are you, Suzy?

Still unable to find an answer to this question, I rinse my mouth one last time and hit the lights. I walk slowly to my bed – Garrett’s bed – and slide beneath the blankets. I stare out the windows to my right, mesmerised as usual by the city lights. After some time has passed, I feel my eyelids grow heavier. Turning to lie on my stomach, I sigh as a pair of cold, brown eyes reveal themselves in my head, and I drift off to a restless sleep.

A loud noise wakes me up, and I bolt upright in bed. A hand touches my arm, and I scream, scared out of my mind, kicking the blankets covering me up, ready to run like mad.

“Shhh!” Garrett’s voice booms close to my ear. I freeze in place. Adrenaline courses through my veins, and I blink, trying to bring his face into focus. Finally, my eyes have become accustomed to the darkness, and I jump slightly when I see his inches away from mine.

“Garrett, what the fuck?!” I curse at him. “You scared me half to death.”

He guffaws, and I still as he sits down beside me, wobbling a bit.

I sniff the air and frown. He reeks of whiskey, and sweat, and…some kind of perfume?

“Are you drunk?!”

“Oooh, yes. Yes, I am. It’s all your fault, Suzy-Q,” he drawls and lies down, his hard body pinning my legs so I can’t move.

“Excuse me?”

“See, I was fine in my own world, just plodding along, waiting to grow old and at last find some peace; but then you turned up.”

I don’t like where this is headed, because this is too far out.

“Garrett, you’re talking nonsense.” I try to move my legs, but I can’t get them free. “Listen, go to bed and sleep it off, yeah?”

“There I was,” he muses, eyes now closed, “at my cousin’s place, ready to show a nice little submissive how to play, and I couldn’t…”

What? A submissive? Fuck. TMI!

I shake his arm, because I’ll be damned if this guy is going to ruin my beauty sleep.

“I don’t want to hear more,” I scold him when he opens his eyes again.

“You can imagine the absolute horror when my dick refused to pay attention, so I decided to get drunk instead.”

“Enough, Garrett!” I shout, so pissed off. “Go. Away!”

He blinks at me and frowns. “I thought women liked it when men opened up to them?” The bewildered look in his eyes makes me groan.

“Well, yes, but
only
when you’re actually in a relationship, for crying out loud! I can’t believe you’re telling me this.”

I slump back, feeling defeated and so tired.

“Oh?” he asks me and shifts slightly on the bed. I manage to tug my right leg free from his body.

“Uh, yeah. The last thing I want right now is to hear about how your cock failed to deliver,” I reply, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I try to change tactics and take a few deep breaths. Softening my voice, I go on. “Garrett, move, okay? I’ll help you get to bed, and then we’ll forget this ever happened.”

“But…” He squints and looks around. “This is my bed.”

I roll my eyes, wanting to cry from exhaustion.

Trying to reason with drunk people while being sober is like talking with a two-year-old. You’ll never win.

“Yes, I know, but you told me to sleep here while we live together, remember?”

“That sounds very unlike me,” he mumbles and yawns loudly before staring intently at me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask him. I move back when he leans closer. I don’t feel threatened by him, but unease courses through me, nonetheless.

I keep moving until my back comes into contact with the headboard, held captive by the predatory gleam in his gaze. My legs are free, but I can’t move. He stops mere inches away, and I hold my breath…The way his eyes roam my face, seeming to memorise my features, makes my stomach dip.

Gently, his right hand lifts. While I can see the effects of the alcohol in his serious eyes, I still can’t move. As he lays his palm flat against my cheek, I feel a spark throughout my body, and my breath whooshes out of me. A burn lights up in my blood, and while I know that this is so very wrong, I’m locked in place…unable to do anything.

His thumb traces my lips, his eyes following its path. He seems to be lost inside his head, not really present.

“Who are you, Suzy-Q?” he mumbles, his breath fanning across my mouth.

“I…I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. I don’t know if he can hear the sadness mingled with the confusion in those three words, because he doesn’t say more. His gaze drops to my lips, and there’s a grim set to his mouth.

“What are you doing to me?” he growls, and my heart rate picks up by the fierceness in his voice.

“I’m not doing anything,” I whisper.

“Yes, you are. You are making me
feel
,” he grits out. His thumb presses in on my jaw, holding on tighter; and though I should be scared, I’m not.

“There’s nothing wrong with feelings.”

“Yes!” he spits out, his face drawing even closer. “
Feelings
make you fall victim to a world of heartache.
Feelings
make you forget that you don’t deserve even an ounce of happiness.” His eyes lift to bore into mine, and I lift my hand to wrap it around his wrist.

“They make you feel alive,” I whisper. “And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

He inhales sharply, gritting his teeth now. My body is buzzing with the strange need he invokes in me.

This is madness.

This is wrong.

But it is also so right.

Abruptly, he releases me, shaking his head slowly, a sea of torment swirling in his eyes. It makes me want to reach out to him; but instead, I let go of this wrist and release a shaking breath.

“Forgive me,” he mumbles. “I don’t know what came over me.” He sighs and stands up, and I watch as he stumbles to the couch in front of the big flat-screen TV.

He lies down, not even bothering to remove his shoes, and, soon after, I hear faint snoring.

Heart galloping like mad, I rub my lips gently back and forth. I can feel the flush in my cheeks, and a mild shaking begins in my body. My mind refuses to think too hard on what just happened, focusing on the electricity his touch awakened in me. This is the strangest night I’ve ever had.

Carefully, I stand up from my bed and walk on my tiptoes towards him. Looking down at him, I frown. He doesn’t look that comfortable, but I don’t want to risk him waking up now that he’s finally asleep. Gently, I remove his shoes, and then take one of the blankets to cover him up.

I stand back, and I don’t know how long I take in his sleeping form. Even unconscious, his features aren’t relaxed. His full lips draw my eyes, and I lick my own, wondering if he really would have kissed me if I’d kept quiet back on my bed.

Then the thought of what he said in the beginning enters my mind.

A submissive. Sounds like something from a book – and yet…

Ignoring the tingling in my tummy, I turn my back on Garrett at last. Yawning, almost asleep on my feet, I meander back to my bed, and get inside. I tuck the blankets closely around me; though I’m conscious of the fact that I’m bone tired, sleep evades me for some time.

In the early hours of dawn, when the purple-pink colours force the darkness of the night away, my restless thoughts finally settle, and I find sleep once more.

My dreams are not peaceful this time.