Deep Surrendering: Episode Five

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Deep Surrendering: Episode Five Page 6

by Chelsea M. Cameron


  “Were you okay? I mean, I’m guessing nothing serious happened.” He didn’t end up in the hospital. That I knew of.

  “No, it’s not the first time it’s happened. I was fine. Just had a terrible hangover the next day. I don’t want to drink like that again.” I didn’t want him to.

  “Please don’t. Or at least call me before you do so I can talk you out of it. I don’t care what time it is. Okay?” Damn the distance. I just wanted to give him a hug.

  “I haven’t wanted to get drunk since then. I didn’t even want to do it then. I just … it was my coping mechanism, along with other things, and I went back to that old habit.” He rubbed the side of his nose. God, he was twitchy when he drank.

  “Yeah, you’ve had a lot to deal with. I’d probably drink too.” He sighed and started shaking his head.

  “What are you shaking your head about?” I asked. He was starting to make me nervous.

  “You. Just … you. No matter what I tell you, you don’t flinch. I’ve just never met anyone like you. I haven’t been able to drive you away with anything I’ve done. It’s very frustrating.”

  Whoa. What?

  “You want to drive me away?” I asked, my voice quiet.

  “No! No, that’s not what I meant. No, I most definitely don’t want to make you go away. In the beginning? Yes, I did. I tried to shock you a bit. You’re so bright, Marisol. I didn’t want to drag you down into darkness with me.” The pain in his words almost made me want to cry. And then pummel anyone who’d made him think he was full of darkness.

  “You haven’t dragged me down, Fin.” I most certainly hadn’t been dragged. “When I’m with you I feel … it’s hard to put into words. I feel like I’m tapping into a part of myself that I’ve ignored for years. That I didn’t know was there. You make me feel more … me. That sounds stupid.” Why couldn’t I just explain it?

  “No, it doesn’t. I understand.” He did? “I can be naked with you. And not the kind without clothes. You strip me and I let you. That’s never happened to me before. With anyone.”

  There it was again. That feeling we were both standing at the edge of a cliff, looking over, wondering if we were going to leap. I looked into Fin’s eyes and knew, just knew, that I’d already jumped.

  “You might have tried to drive me away, but it didn’t work. I—” He put his hand up and stopped me. “Don’t say it,” he said.

  I stuttered for a moment. “Don’t say what? You didn’t know what I was going to say.” He couldn’t know that I was about to tell him I was falling for him. But he was perceptive, and I had a hard time hiding my emotions, so maybe he did. It was probably written all over my face.

  “I know what you were going to say. But don’t say it.”

  My voice was choked as I responded. “Why not?”

  “Because…” He didn’t finish his thought.

  “That’s not a reason, Fin.” The hurt was starting to turn into anger. Who was he to tell me what I could and couldn’t say? What I could and couldn’t feel?

  “I don’t want you to. I care about you too much.” That. Now that was fucked up.

  “You know that literally makes no sense, Fin. No fucking sense.” I had a brief thought of slamming the laptop shut and cutting him off, but I didn’t. I wanted to know what the hell was going through his head. This was another one of those times when I couldn’t read him. When his tangled thoughts were like yarn that was impossible to untangle, at least for me.

  “Yes it does, and you know it, Marisol.”

  “Don’t tell me what I know. I know that I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. It physically hurts me that you’re so far away. I’ve seriously considered getting on a plane just so I can come see you, and I definitely can’t afford an overseas plane ticket. It scares me how much I care about you, but it feels right. So right. You can tell me you’re dark, and tell me that you’re going to hurt me—you can put all the warning labels on yourself that you want, but that’s not going to stop me from feeling the way that I do.” I realized I was actually shaking. From emotion and from anger.

  “So don’t tell me how I fucking feel, Fin Herald. I care about you so much it scares me. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted someone. I can’t change it and I’m not going to try. I’ve never felt this way before about anyone.” He’d been silent during my little speech, and now his expression was a closed door. Cut off. Shut down. He barely even blinked.

  We had a stare down for what felt like forever, but I wasn’t going to be the first one to speak. It was his turn.

  I kept my jaw clamped shut and waited. He barely moved. I had an itch on my foot, but I’d be damned if I was going to scratch it.

  His jaw was locked tight, as if he was keeping everything inside. It was infuriating.

  Finally, I caved and spoke. “Do you have anything to say?”

  He just took a breath and said two words. “Goodbye, Marisol.”

  Don’t forget to check out

  Deep Surrendering

  Episode 6

  when it comes out on August 21st

  The Noctalis Chronicles

  Nocturnal (Book One)

  Nightmare (Book Two)

  Neither (Book Three)

  Neverend (Book Four)

  The Whisper Trilogy

  Whisper (Book One)

  Fall and Rise

  Deeper We Fall (Book One)

  Faster We Burn (Book Two)

  Slowly We Trust (Book Three)

  My Favorite Mistake

  My Sweetest Escape

  (Available from Harlequin)

  Surrendering

  Sweet Surrendering

  Surrendering to Us

  Dark Surrendering

  For Real

  UnWritten

  As always, thanks to my team (editor, formatter, publicist) for their continued work and support, my author friends for their general awesomeness, bloggers for all their work and passion and you, for sticking with Marisol and Fin. I have a plan. I promise. And the journey will be worth it. I just hope you can hold on.

  Chelsea M. Cameron is a YA/NA New York Times/USA Today Best Selling author from Maine. Lover of things random and ridiculous, Jane Austen/Charlotte and Emily Bronte Fangirl, red velvet cake enthusiast, obsessive tea drinker, vegetarian, former cheerleader and world's worst video gamer. When not writing, she enjoys watching infomercials, singing in the car and tweeting. She has a degree in journalism from the University of Maine, Orono that she promptly abandoned to write about the people in her own head. More often than not, these people turn out to be just as weird as she is.

  Find Chelsea online:

  chelseamcameron.com

  Twitter: @chel_c_cam

  Facebook: Chelsea M. Cameron (Official Author Page)

 

 

 


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