She turns her head and our gazes fasten. “I know, but it doesn’t make it easier for me to say it… You know it’s hard for me to say how I’m feeling.”
I lace my fingers through hers and stroke the inside of her wrist with my thumb. “I know, but I’m always here for you.” I’m trying to remain calm, but it’s hard. She’s scaring the shit out of me, especially since I have no idea what the hell she’s trying to say.
“And it’s really hard for me to admit what I want sometimes,” she continues, shutting her eyes.
“I know,” I say, smoothing her tangled hair out of her face. “But like I said, you can tell me anything.”
Her eyelids flutter open, her pupils shrinking as they hit the light. “I think… I think we should just…” Her hand shakes in mine as she takes a quivering breath and then the words rush out of her. “I think we should go home and have a normal wedding with our families.” She presses her lips together and holds her breath.
I remain motionless, trying to hold it in, because I know it’s going to piss her off, but eventually it gets to me and laughter slips through. “Oh my God,” I nearly choke on my laugh, wrapping my arm around my stomach as I lean back. “I can’t believe that’s what this is all about.”
“Micha.” She pinches my nipple through my shirt. “Stop. I’m being serious.”
“Oh, I know you are.” I continue to laugh and the longer it goes on the more irritated she looks, until finally she gathers her dress and gets up to leave. I quickly scoot forward, encircle my arms around her waist, and yank her back. She flops back down on the mattress and I enfold my body over hers. She instantly tries to squirm out from under me as I pin her arms to the side of her head.
“It’s not funny,” she protests, working really hard to stay angry with me. “I was trying to tell you how I feel and you laughed at me.”
“I know,” I tell her, stifling my laughter the best I can. “But you’re too fucking adorable for your own good.”
She narrows her eyes. “I’m not adorable and you know it.”
“When you tell me things like you want to have a wedding with our families and are nervous about it, you’re fucking adorable,” I tell her and then lean down and kiss her cheek. “I love you and we can get married wherever, however, and whenever you want, just as long as we get married and you never stand me up again.”
She pouts out her glossy bottom lip. “I’m sorry. I just panicked.”
I lean down and nip at her bottom lip because it’s too delicious-looking to resist. “Next time, please just call me. Or at least send a text.” I kiss her again, then slightly lean away, the heat of our breath mixing together. “A simple SOS or something.”
“Deal,” she says. “But hopefully there won’t be a next time.”
“Take away the hopefully from that sentence.” I kiss her again, sliding my tongue deep into her mouth.
“Deal,” she whispers against my lips, panting from the kiss, and all thoughts of abandonment and fear slip away as we continue to kiss until the sun goes down.
I’m pretty sure it’s the best way to get stood up on my wedding day. If only I could continue to feel that way, but I can’t help but worry about going home. Not because of me. I can handle home and my mom and her dumbass boyfriend. It’s Ella’s family I worry about. Even though things have been decent most of the time, sometimes during her phone conversations with her father or brother, one of them ends up bringing up the past. And that’s the one thing Ella still struggles with, whether she’ll admit it or not.
Acclaim for
Jessica Sorensen
“Sorensen’s portrayal of… relationships and long-distance love, as well as the longing to escape one’s past, raises her above her new adult peers.”
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“Romantic, suspenseful and well written—this is a story you won’t want to put down.”
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About the Author
The
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