Always (Bold as Love) Read online

  “I only said you could marry her because I know that would make her happy. But I'm not so sure that it's a good idea anymore. Y'all are too young for this. Marriage is huge, and y'all are not ready for it. It will not happen.”

  “Daddy,” I start, keeping my voice sugary sweet.

  “Don't go there with me, Emily. I won't allow it.”

  Anger sweeps through me and next thing I know, I'm yelling. It's incoherent to me because I'm consumed with raging anger. I push past Jake and run outside to my car. Shutting myself inside, fury blazes within me. As if in slow motion, Jake follows me. Once he is in the car, tires squeal as I head back to his house. I can't be there.

  Everything pours out once I plop onto Jake's bed. Tears stream like a flood and Jake holds me tight. I don't understand. I begin to pour my little heart out. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and he thinks you are poison for me. I don't get it. Why can't he be happy for me? I mean, I just...”

  “Sweetness, calm down.”

  Squeezing my eyes closed, I do as he says.

  “Listen. Your dad sort of has a point. Marriage is a huge commitment.”

  “But I want that.”

  “I know you do, Sweetness. Just hear me out. You are his baby girl, and you have been through so much. Some of that is my fault. He's worried about you.”

  “He doesn't want us to get married, Jake.”

  “No, Sweetness. He wants us to wait. I told you that. Why are you surprised by this?”

  I think hard about it, and I'm ashamed by my answer. “He always lets me do what I want.” Snuggling closer to Jake, I continue. “I'm a spoiled brat, aren't I? I just threw a tantrum because he wouldn't let me do what I wanted when I wanted.”

  “You are not a spoiled brat. I don't call you Sweetness for kicks. Let's let him cool down a bit, and then we'll talk about it. Don't worry just yet.”

  “I have an idea.” The crazy thought now runs rampant in my head.

  “What's that, Sweetness?”

  “Let's elope.”

  20

  Jake

  What?

  “Let me tell you something right now, Sweetness. If I'm going to marry you, it will be done just as it should be. With family and friends. If I'm going to marry you, we are going to have more than an eloped ceremony. I'm not marrying you unless we have a proper ceremony and your father's full approval.”

  Emily pouts and rolls away from me. I let her think about it for a minute before I say anything else. “Is eloping your dream wedding?”

  “Who cares about the wedding? Shouldn't it be about us?”

  Good point, but not good enough. “That doesn't answer my question.”

  “No,” she growls.

  “Tell me about it,” I say softly.

  “Honestly, I don't have a dream wedding, Jake. It's always been about the person I was going to marry than the wedding itself. I've never given those details much thought.”

  “I thought every girl dreams about her wedding day.”

  “I do. I dream about the man I'm going to marry that day. Not what my dress will look like or what flowers I'm going to hold.”

  “God, I love you.” I begin kissing her neck and soon, we're tangled together and the day's events are forgotten. We are content, until there's a knock on my door. Emily throws the covers up over her head, and I chuckle at her.

  “Come in,” I call out.

  Drake walks in. He goes to jump into bed with us, but I stop him by holding up a hand.

  “What do you need?”

  “I wanted to hang out with my future sister-in-law. That's what it's called, isn't it?”

  Emily sneaks a glance from under the covers and nods.

  “I told him yesterday and I think he was more excited than you,” I tease before turning my attention to Drake. “We'll be in your room in a minute.”

  Drake lets out a little sigh, swivels on his heel, and leaves the room. I pull Sweetness, who is still mostly hiding under the blankets, atop of me. She finds my neck and kisses it softly. Her lips brush across my neck as she says, “I'm still scared.”

  Just now, Sweetness' words burn into my skin. Quickly, I search my brain for the right words. They come easily.

  “Sweetness, do you trust me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then believe me. No. I want you to know it in your heart that I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I'm not going to let anything happen to us. I've never wanted someone to be so happy before I met you. Don't be scared. Everything will work out as it should.”

  “What if that means choosing between you or Dad?”

  “That won't happen. Neither of us would make you do that. We just need to give him time to chill.”

  “But...” she begins.

  “Let's go hang with Drake for a bit, and we'll talk about it later.”

  Emily slides out of bed, and I'm right behind her. We dress and walk across the hall to Drake's room, where we play video games and Emily seems to enjoy herself. Worries have been placed on hold for now, and it does Emily good. I would love to know where Drake got his humor from. Emily is clutching her sides, laughing. Drake makes the corniest joke hilarious.

  “Emily, what do you call cheese that isn't yours?”

  “Um, I don't know.”

  “Nacho cheese!”

  With Drake finding extreme hilarity at his own joke, Emily and I laugh harder. Night falls quickly and Emily decides to spend the night, not yet wanting to go home and wishing to finish our earlier conversation. Back in my room, Emily sits at attention on the bed Indian style.

  Part of me can't believe that I'm about to share this with Emily and part of me can't believe that I haven't already. Sitting in the same position, I face Emily.

  “When I found out about my mom's cancer, I was scared. More than scared. Terrified doesn't even state how scared I was. I was concerned about her life, our lives, and our future. I didn't know what life would be like without her. One night, mom was feeling really well and it was just the two of us watching TV. The words slipped out of my mouth before I gave it any thought. You know what she told me?”

  Emily shakes her head, tears falling from her eyes because of my sadness.

  “Mom, always knowing what to say, said, 'Son, I love you. As long as you remember that, there is nothing to be scared of. Love heals wounds and when you find that special someone, you may be scared. But being scared means that you feel so deeply about someone that you wouldn't want anything to happen to them, your relationship, or their family. Being scared means you care. It's okay to be scared. Talk to someone about it. Never keep it bottled up because things will get worse instead of better.'”

  Telling Emily what my mom said causes her to spew everything at once.

  “Dad doesn't want us to get married. You want to get married soon so you can call me your wife. I feel like I'm being pulled in twenty different directions. I have so many questions about everything and no answers. You are supposed to be my stability, love, but everything seems to be spiraling more and more out of control.”

  “Okay,” I say, moving aside. “Lay down.” I wait until she has before I continue. “Close your eyes. Take a couple of deep breaths as you count to ten. Clear your mind. Don't think about what your father wants. Don't think about what I want. Think solely about what you want.”

  I give her time to do so and turn on my side to watch her. An eye peeks out and she asks, “How can I think about what I want without thinking about what you want? Sometimes, I want something because I know it will make you happy.”

  “Think only about you. Be entirely selfish right now.”

  “Okay,” she says, closing her eyes again.

  “What do you want regarding our engagement?”

  It's a moment before she answers, “I want to be your wife. I don't care when or how, just that it happens. But if that means my father won't be there or doesn't approve, I'll wait as long as he wants.”

  “Anything else?
” I encourage.

  “If you want...” she begins.

  I quickly cut her off by saying, “Nope. Only what you want.”

  “Jake, this is unrealistic. You said our engagement. That requires input from two people.”

  “I want whatever you want.”

  I can't help but smile at the be-serious look Emily gives me. She rolls away from me with a sigh. Her hands are together, resting underneath her cheek and her back rigid and straight. If I had to take a guess, I would say that she didn't like my answer. Which is ridiculous. Isn't that what girls love to hear?

  Oh, right.

  Emily is just like most people. Unique. I shouldn't gather her together into a group of other girls. That's unfair. Especially since she is more amazing than any person, boy or girl, I know.

  “I'm sorry,” I whisper as I pull her against my chest, feeling her relax into me.

  “I don't want to talk anymore,” she says in a quiet, upset tone.

  “Oh, no. I'm supposed to make you talk, remember?” Emily scoots away from my embrace, temporarily hurting my feelings. I bounce back like a ball against cement. “Sweetness, what's really bothering you?”

  “I don't want to tell you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it's just me worrying when I shouldn't. It's me being scared when I should trust you with my heart.”

  Going in a different direction than usual, I say softly, “Don't you think it's a little unfair for you to feel that way when I trust you not only with my life, but with Drake's? I trust you with everything that I am and you can't find it in yourself to trust me. Here, let me ask you a question. Do think I would catch you if you fall?”

  “Yeah...” she trails, not knowing where I'm going with this.

  “Do you think I would help you if you were hurt?”

  “Yeah...”

  “Would you put your life in my hands?”

  “Yeah...”

  “Then why can't you put your heart in my care? You know that I already have it,” I say with a kiss on her shoulder, an idea forming in my head to get her to see that she really does trust me. “You love me, care for me, want me,” another kiss on the crook of her neck, “Sweetness, do I need to show you just how much you love and trust me?”

  I kiss right below her ear, a drive-me-crazy spot of hers as she calls them.

  “Are you trying to say that by me having sex with you means that I trust you? You've got to be kidding me. Think with your brain, Jake.”

  “I'm saying that because you have sex with me means that you trust me. You trust me with one of the most intimate parts of yourself. You trust me to take care of your body and of your wellbeing. Sweetness, you already trust me with your heart.”

  Slowly, she turns to face me, a smile taking root on her lips. Instead of bringing herself to me, she pulls me to her. I like this taking charge part of Emily.

  Her eyes ignite as she looks at me. “This is what I want you to do, so listen carefully.”

  My ears come to attention.

  “I want you to show me just how much you love me. Just how much do you trust me? How much do you think I trust you? Show me how much I love you. Push me to my limits. Push me beyond my limits.”

  “I know that you trust me. It's time for you to think with your head, missy. We're not done talking here.” My tone turns from light to heavy to tackle one question that has been bothering me since Emily told me everything that happened to her. “You were raped, Sweetness. Many times. How were you able to get over that and have tons of sex with me?”

  Emily bites her lip and I know I've hit a chord. She rolls away from me once more and doesn't answer. Just as I'm about to speak, Emily does so.

  “That's something you want, right?”

  “Not if you don't. Emily, Sweetness, please tell me that you are not sleeping with me because you think you should.”

  “I'm tired, love. Can't we just go to sleep?”

  “I prefer to talk about this, Emily.”

  She ignores me. Huffing my apparent frustration aloud, I lie on my back with my hands behind my head. Silly me. I thought Emily would either start talking or roll over and cuddle with me. I am wrong.

  Dead wrong.

  While I'm awake almost the entire night, Emily not once rolls over to make contact with my body. That fact alone makes it one sleepless night. When I finally fall asleep, it's a deep slumber. I'm so out of it that when I wake up at one in the afternoon, Emily is gone. The carpeted floor covers up the majority of the noise from my footsteps. I've checked the whole house.

  Emily isn't here.

  21

  Emily

  I feel as if all I did was toss and turn all night. I awoke exhausted. The opportunity to leave unnoticed was too great to miss. If there was one thing that I didn't want to discuss ever, it is the relationship between my past 'sex' life and my current. There's no way I am going home, so instead, I head to Charlotte. It's a long drive, but hopefully one that is well worth it.

  The entire drive, all I can think about is how I could go to Conrad, but I can't. I'm supposed to run to Jake. Is this what has become of me? Thanks to Jake, can I no longer speak about my problems with other people? The beating of my heart pounds into my chest and head. My knuckles are white against the black steering wheel, and I'm trying so hard not to panic. The monster within who would creep out during presentations, who has been dormant, is coming back to life. It keeps getting bigger and bigger until I'm scared, shaking, and panicked as I turn the car around to head back home.

  What if Jake gets upset with the way I feel? I know I shouldn't feel the way I do, but I feel as if I can't help it. I do sleep with Jake because I love him, and I want to. But part of me sleeps with him because I know it's something he wants. It's something I should give him for putting up with me. Jake is not going to like hearing these things. Is the want to make him happy too much to ask for?

  I'm sitting in my car, parked on the curb in front of his house. Unfortunately, Jake is outside on the porch steps. My eyes focus on the road before me. It takes everything I have not to look at Jake when he walks around the front of my car and to my window. Bending down, he lightly taps. Suddenly, tears are falling from my eyes, and I open my door to get out. My arms wrap tightly around Jake as I cry into his chest. I'm safely tucked in Jake's embrace, crying and breathing heavily.

  Panic mode for sure. I can't catch my breath quick enough. My mind is a whirlwind of emotions and all I want is for Jake to save me. Only, I know that this time, I have to save myself. To do this, I decide to let the panic take over. That has to be the best way for it to go away faster, right?

  Negative.

  I cry for a good thirty minutes in Jake's arms. Finally, I can feel myself gaining control as I tell myself that Jake will love me no matter what. Before I can change my mind, I let the words blast from my mouth.

  “I have sex with you because I know you want it; I want it; you put up with me all the time and get nothing in return; and it's part of the reason you want me. But you have to understand, Jake, I have sex with you because I love you too.”

  I feel Jake rest his chin on my head. He breaks my heart and says, “I don't know what to do anymore.”

  The one thing that I did not want to hear after saying all of that is what he just said. How am I supposed to know what to do if Jake doesn't? Stepping away from Jake, I briskly walk away from him and into his house, and up the stairs to his room. The door closes easily with the quick push from my hand as I crawl onto his bed and under the covers, pulling them all the way up to my nose.

  Upon hearing Jake enter his room, I say, “I don't want to dissect everything in our relationship because of my past. I love you. Why can't that be enough? Why isn't that enough?” I don't give him the chance to speak. “You know, I love your bed because it smells like you and it's comforting, like you. As crazy as it sounds, it's there when I need it. Just like you. My past, however, is nothing like you and our relationship. You are everything my p
ast with my mother isn't. You know all the gory details and still love me for me. Yes, I was raped many times. But, Jake, you have to understand that I never would have slept with you if I felt pressured.

  “I sleep with you because I love you. I feel safe with you. I want you. You want me because you love me. Your personality is completely different than those men. Everything about us is different than that and that is why I can sleep with you after being raped. Because of our relationship, I was able to conquer those feelings of obligation and whatnot.”

  “Sweetness,” Jake rolls me over and runs his finger down from my ear down my jaw. “I love you.” Chills run down my spine at the sultry heat in Jake's eyes.

  Laying with Jake, our legs tangled together, there is not one place in this entire universe that I rather be. Jake is my heart, my home, my love. It's not five minutes later, Jake's breathing becomes steady and a soft snore escapes. I let his warmth and the music of his breathing and heartbeats sway me into a light slumber.

  An hour or so later, I awake to Jake playing with my hair. The air is charged with a happy, but slightly negative feeling.

  “Everything okay, love?” I yawn.

  “I don't think I tell you enough that I love you or just how much.” Moving quickly, he rolls on top of me, the weight of his body not completely on me as he would probably crush me with muscles.

  “I love you,” he kisses my neck.

  “I love you so much,” he kisses my collarbone. As he moves further down, more of my body becomes exposed.

  “I love how your hair smells like strawberries,” he kisses the spot between my breasts.

  “I love your eyes,” he kisses my stomach.

  This continues as Jake names every single thing he loves about me while covering every inch of my body with luscious kisses. My body warms up with each kiss until I'm scorching hot.