Forever: Beautiful Series, book two

by Anderson, Lilliana

  “What’s your tattoo of?” he probes, dropping his eyes to my waist height.

  “What tattoo?” I reply nervously, a lame attempt to deflect.

  “The black and orange one that occasionally sticks out from under your shirt. I saw it on the plane when we first met, and I’ve seen it a couple of times when you’ve leant forward. What is it?” He steps closer to me, a solemn look in his eye.

  My skin tightens as I imagine the tattoo’s giant wings, hugging me for strength. My sweet girl. “It’s…” I shift uneasily under his gaze. “Uh… the markings of my misspent youth. It’s a phoenix.”

  “A phoenix?” he repeats, his voice low and rumbling, caressing even, as he steps closer.

  My breathing quickens as I nod quickly in response. Suddenly, I’m feeling light-headed. Taking a step backwards, I try to gain a little distance between us, but that only puts me up against the cupboard behind me.

  “Elliot don’t,” I whisper watching him stalk towards me. He stops right in front of me, his body brushing up against my own and sending little spirals of longing shooting through me. He’s so close that if I lift my head, we’ll be kissing.

  “Can I see it?” he asks, his voice barely audible.

  “No,” I breathe out, closing my eyes and trying to focus on keeping calm. His lips brush mine lightly, and I let out a whimper. I'm torn between my body’s impulses to pull him towards me, and my brain’s insistence that I stay away from him. Then all of a sudden, nothing.

  Letting out a shaky breath, I open my eyes, feeling both relieved and bereft to see him standing at the sink again, washing up as if nothing happened. I decide to take my cue from him and walk back over to continue drying up. Holy fuck.

  “I’ll do it,” he says, a slight thickness in his voice. “You go choose a movie.”

  I pause and look at him, warring with myself about how I want to deal with this. I can walk away right now, let whatever this is between us go without ever having to deal with it. Maybe if I push him away one more time, he won’t come back...

  The thought creates a heaviness that weighs down my chest, making it hard for me to move. It feels as though my decision now—whichever one it is—will change everything between us. I don’t want to push him away, even though it would be better for us both if I did.

  This can’t end well.

  Despite the fact my better judgement keeps screaming at me to stop, I do something that makes me terribly nervous. I reach out and place my hand on his arm to get his attention, ready for whatever comes next…

  Elliot

  Besides when I forced her to shake my hand on the plane and paid her to cut my hair, Paige has never reached for me willingly. It’s always been me reaching for her. That’s why, when she does, it makes my heart ache from not knowing it until now.

  “Elliot,” she ventures, her hand still resting upon my arm. “I’m sorry, OK. I haven’t shown anyone the tattoo. Ever. Well…besides the artist, of course. But…” Her hands drop to her sides with a slap. “God. I'm ruining this, aren’t I? There’s something special here and I can’t seem to stop myself from fucking it up.”

  Drying my hands again, I turn to face her, meeting her amber eyes as they brim with tears, her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth opens like she wants to speak but the words won’t come. Her eyes dart from side to side as she clamps her mouth shut and presses her full lips together in a thin line. I say nothing, watching her beautiful face run a gamut of emotions.Disappointed however, when none of them are conveyed to me.

  Leaning with one hand on the edge of the sink, I glance down at the floor and clear my throat. I don’t know what it is she isn’t telling me, but it bothers me that she doesn’t trust me enough to confide in me. I’d hoped we were moving past this, but I have a feeling she’ll forever be an enigma to me.

  “Paige, what is it you want from me?” I ask point blank. It's time to lay our cards on the table or I’ll go crazy guessing.

  “I…I don’t know,” she stammers out.

  “I think you do,” I whisper, reaching out to gently touch her cheek. She quivers under my fingertips, and when she closes her eyes, a single tear escapes, sliding down toward my hand in a bright trail of emotion. Brushing my thumb over the tear, I wipe it away “You’re just afraid to admit it.”

  Paige starts shaking her head and squeezing her eyes tighter. “No, Elliot,” she breathes. “You don’t want me like that.”

  When she opens her eyes and stares into mine, hers are so full of anguish that I ache along with her, desperately wanting to take some of that pain away.

  “But I do, Paige. I want you so much that my body aches and I can hardly breathe. I don’t give a fuck about your past, or the reasons you think you’re not good enough. I want you. Just as you are.” I lean in a little closer. “What do you want from me?”

  “I…I can’t.”

  “You can. Say it, Paige. Say what you want or I swear to you, this goes away. I will walk away from you.” I feel like an arsehole the moment the words leave my mouth. But I need to know. No matter the cost.

  “I can’t.” She shakes her head.

  “Say it,” I insist.

  Her eyes flash bright and her lips tighten, a frantic moment of thought and risk.

  “Say. It.”

  She takes a breath and closes her eyes. “You, Elliot. I want you!” she yells, putting her hand on her face before she steps away from me. “But you don’t want me. You can’t. Because I’ve done things, Elliot. Terrible things. I’ve hurt people. I've used people. I….Oh, god, I can’t do this…” She shakes her hands, agitated, blowing out a calming breath before she continues, placing her palm over her forehead. “The tattoo.” She meets my eyes, folding her arms protectively across her middle. “It’s a huge reminder of everything I never want to be again. And because of what I was, I don’t get to have someone like you. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve anything good. I'm not supposed to be happy,” she cries, breaking down. “Can’t you understand that?”

  Tears burn the backs of my eyes, my chest aching. I’ve never witnessed anguish like this. And I feel like an absolute bastard for bringing it out in her. Taking a couple of quick steps, I close the distance between us. I can’t fix her. But I can hold her. I can refuse to let go.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper into her hair as she sobs even harder against my chest. “I’m not going. I’m here.”

  Paige

  In all my life, I have never been held as I am now, and it’s more than I can bear. Huge sobs wrack through my body for everything I wish I could forget. Clinging tightly to him, I draw on his strength and take comfort in his arms. Don’t leave me.

  “There’s nothing you could tell me that would make me stop caring about you, Paige,” he says after a while, lifting my face so I have to look at him. The sincerity in his eyes pulls at my heart, and I can see he fully believes his own words. For a moment, I do too. But the reality is, no man wants a woman with a past like mine. Not anyone decent anyway. “Whatever happened, whatever you did. It doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters is who you are in this moment, who you are to me.”

  I can’t breathe. I want that. I want that to be true so badly.

  He leans in and brushes his lips against mine, a slow sweeping motion that sends a feeling of beautiful longing through my body, causing fresh tears to fall from my eyes.

  “Please, Paige,” he whispers, tipping me over the edge of my ability to resist him.

  Overcome with emotion, I give in to my desires and kiss him back. Opening my mouth slightly as he holds my face tenderly in his hands, his lips entwining with my own, softly tasting and teasing. Never forcing. My heart. My tattoo is on fire, protective and unsure. I don’t know if I can live knowing that one day he could learn my truth and hate me for it.

  Pulling away, he presses his lips to my forehead and circles his arms around me once more. This time I hug him back, breathing steadily as I listen to the rhythmic beating of his
heart. Just a moment. Just let me have a moment, I tell Phoenix. And she listens, calming her fires, easing her grip.

  “Do you think we can just watch a movie now?” I ask when I’ve gained some control over my emotions.

  I feel his chest bounce as he laughs. “Yeah, I think a movie would be good,” he says, sliding his fingers between mine as he guides me over to the couch.

  While he sets up Netflix, I let him keep a hold of my hand. I even let him put his arm around me as we watch the movie. I feel so undeserving.

  When I rest my head against his chest, my heart swells when his lips brush against the top of my hair. I’ve fallen too far. So much further than I wanted to. My mind keeps telling me to get up and go, pack my bags and leave, save him. But my body is staying firmly, pressed up against his, refusing to let go.

  You made a promise, Phoenix says in my head, disapproving with her words, a living, breathing being etched into my skin.

  And I’ll keep it. When he leaves, I’ll tell him everything, so he never comes back. Will that work?

  Perhaps, she says, her fire calming as she leaves me be, allows me a moment without her memory tapping against my skull.

  I’m not crazy. I don’t think the tattoo on my back is alive. It’s more symbolic to me, like the phoenix is my conscience, and I have to reason out my decisions with it before I feel OK about making them. It’s complicated, but there’s a reason for it. One I’m not quite ready to share.

  So, instead of focusing on the movie, I’m running through my options in my mind wondering if it’s wrong of me to want him as much as I do. He’s only here for seven more weeks. There’s no time for him to extend his visa, so he’ll have to leave. Anything we have can’t possibly go anywhere. Could I just enjoy what little closeness we can have before he goes? Can I let go of the guilt and anguish from my past for a little while? I wriggle a little against his hard chest and feel myself melting against him. Yes, I think I can.

  Seven weeks… seven weeks until he goes home, and then if I have to, I’ll tell him everything. Seven weeks of happiness. Then I’ll let him go.

  Twelve

  Elliot

  “You’re awfully happy today,” my client, Agy, comments as she wipes her face with the towel I just handed her. “Is there a new love interest making you look that way?”

  Smiling, I simply shrug my shoulders. Agy is one of my favourite clients. She's in her late fifties and comes to the gym every day to workout. She doesn’t come here to partake in any gentle movement either; she does full-on weights training and intense cardio. She’s strong as an ox, and I’m betting she will live until she’s at least a hundred.

  “A gentleman never tells, Agy.”

  Training her is always entertaining, because she’s got loads of great stories to tell me about when she was a kid growing up in the country, and she in turn, loves to hear me talk about Australia.

  “Come on, tell me all about her. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten a dose of young love,” she presses.

  “I guess it depends on what you want to know.”

  “Well, her name for starters. Unless it’s a he of course, then you can give me his name,” she starts all very matter-of-factly.

  I can’t help but laugh at her boldness. It's one of the reasons I like her so much. “Paige, her name is Paige, Agy.”

  “Well, that’s a lovely name. Now you can tell me all about her,” she prompts, eyes gleaming as she listens in rapt attention while I tell her about meeting Paige on the plane and some brief details about how she came to stay in the flat and how our friendship has been progressing. Once I start, it’s difficult to stop.

  “She’s been making it hard to get to know her; like she’s scared of her feelings for me. But we finally made some progress last night, and this morning, well, she just kept smiling. And Agy, she’s beautiful when she smiles,” I gush, fighting hard to stop my mouth from curling into some goofy grin.

  “That’s wonderful, Elliot. I'm sure any girl who can hold the attention of a gorgeous young man like you is well worth the effort.”

  “She is, Agy. I really think she is.”

  Paige

  “Let me guess,” Andrea says, looking at me with squinting eyes. “You took my advice and finally told Elliot you’re into him? Are you dating now?”

  I look at her briefly, trying to focus on cutting hair, but just the thought of being with Elliot causes a smile to creep across my lips. “Not exactly dating, but things are good.”

  “Hmmm, have you shagged him yet?”

  I raise my eyebrows and look at her again while my client watches us closely in the mirror.

  “No, I haven’t ‘shagged’ him,” I answer, using my fingers as quote marks.

  “Well, you’re glowing like you have. Must be love,” she says before she turns back to her own work.

  Love. I shake my head at the idea because it’s just too crazy. Still, I smile my way through the rest of the day.

  Elliot

  Standing outside the hair salon waiting for Paige, I’m suddenly filled with nerves. I only have six weeks and five days left in the UK. I don’t want to waste any more time pretending with her. I want more, and I’m not going to hide it. Not after our breakthrough on Friday night. We’ve done little more than hold hands and kiss a couple of times since but every time I lay my eyes on her, the entire world just melts around me. She's all I can think about.

  When she emerges from the salon, she’s with her boss, Andrea, who gives me a little finger wave. “Hi Elliot,” she sing-songs at me. I smile and nod at her as I notice a look pass between them, causing Paige’s face to go bright red.

  “Have you been talking about me today?” I ask, grinning at her as she gets closer.

  The answer she gives me is a coy smile, and a little shrug of the shoulders.

  “Have fun, lovebirds,” Andrea calls out, as she walks towards the station.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” I say to Paige as I catch her hands, and pull her into my arms. “It’s OK. I was talking about you too.”

  She smiles as she leans against me. “Good things, I hope.”

  “Of course,” I whisper before bringing my mouth to hers. Kissing her gives me life.

  “Mmm. What’s happening for dinner tonight?” she asks as we interlace our fingers and make our way towards the flat.

  “Brian texted earlier. Said everyone was heading to the Hole to get some dinner and have a few drinks. You up for it?”

  “Of course.” She smiles, meeting my eyes. The attraction between us buzzes through the air as it passes between us. We don’t say a lot. We just walk together smiling stupidly. It’s hard to believe that something as minor as a hand hold would make me so ridiculously happy, but it does.

  Paige

  The moment we reach the door to our flat, I drop Elliot’s hand, my disconnection causing him to look at me and frown.

  “I feel kind of weird,” I explain.

  “You feel weird?”

  “I do.” I grimace. “I’m sorry.”

  He sighs and lifts his hands to hold either side of my face. His touch causing a light headiness to overcome me. I have to fight to keep my eyes open so I can focus on him.

  “Paige. This is your one and only chance to back out. Otherwise, we’re going to walk through that door holding hands because as far as I’m concerned, I’m with you, and I’m not willing to hide it. It’s all or nothing from here. I can’t pretend to be your friend anymore.”

  His blue eyes are dark and serious, and I find myself staring up at him and nodding helplessly. My head didn’t even consult me, it just started moving all by itself.

  “What does that even mean?” He smiles as he watches my helpless nodding.

  “Hold my hand,” I whisper.

  “Thank you.” He presses a kiss to my forehead before taking my hand and pushing open the door.

  We have to let go to remove our coats and hang them on the pegs by the door, but as soon as we do, we link our
fingers again and head into the living area.

  As per usual, there are bodies draped all over the couches and a mess all over the table. We say a quick hello to everyone, and they barely even glance at our joined hands. I look to see what they're watching on TV.

  “Home & Away? You might as well all be back in Australia,” I say with a laugh.

  “But I love this show.” Naomi’s eyes shine as she flicks her eyes to mine and Elliot’s hands before they return to my eyes, her quiet smile telling me how happy she is for me. “I don’t want to miss out on the happenings of Summer Bay.”

  “Summer Bay isn’t even a real place,” I tease. Those watching, blow raspberries and wave me away, laughing good-naturedly, as I release Elliot’s hand then go into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

  “That wasn’t weird at all,” Elliot says, as he follows me and leans against the bench top, watching me drink. “They didn’t even notice.”

  “I think maybe they’ve been expecting it,” I say. I love the way he watches me. It feels like he’s caressing everywhere he looks from across the small space.

  “Come here,” he says, and I’m about to, but we both turn to the front door as it opens and Shane walks in with his girlfriend trailing behind him.

  “Hi.” She waves at me.

  I’ve met her a couple of times, but I can’t for the life of me remember what her name is. It’s some sort of flower, or tree…

  “Hi Shane, Hi Coral,” Elliot greets seamlessly. That’s her name!

  “Hey,” Shane says, taking off his jacket and hanging it next to ours. “How long til everyone’s ready to go?”

  “They’re watching Home & Away so probably a good fifteen minutes,” I tell him.

  “Excellent, I’m busting for a dump.”

  With wide eyes, we all grimace at each other after that stellar revelation from Shane.