Forbidden Desires

by Jenna Hartley

  Maybe I should be the one pulling away, but I can’t bring myself to do so. A few minutes later, her breathing steadies.

  It’s as though the only place she feels safe is in my arms, and I’m sitting here smiling like an idiot.

  Clearly, there’s something wrong with me.

  I sigh, keeping my voice down. “Oh, Jules.”

  When I stand up with her in my arms, careful not to jostle her too much, I’m reminded of when I was ten. She was eight and fell out of a tree, and since there was no one else around that day, I had to carry her back to the house. Back then, to my scrawny little self, it felt like she weighed a million pounds. Now, she feels light and tiny in my arms, definitely not like a burden. It’s like she belongs there, and I like that.

  I walk to her room she’s already managed to make a mess of and gently put her down on the bed. “Things will be better in the morning.”

  After covering her with the blanket, I look at her for a few moments. Just as I’m about to turn and leave, she grabs my arm and pulls on it.

  “Please don’t leave me alone, Freddy.”

  My body freezes instantly at her pleading words. She hasn’t called me that in a very long time. She gave me the silly nickname forever ago when we had our little Scooby Doo obsession. It was our thing since Oliver refused to be named after the characters.

  Hearing the name leave her lips does weird things to my stomach.

  Maybe I ate something wrong earlier.

  “Don’t worry, Daphne. I’m right here.” I’m not even sure she can hear my whispered reply, but I don’t care. I climb into bed and lie down beside her.

  After a minute, her breathing evens out again, her hand still holding my arm tightly.

  Maybe I should leave. If I was worried about Oliver seeing her on my lap, this would be way, way worse.

  Despite that, I relax next to her and close my eyes, because, quite frankly, this feels incredibly right.

  Chapter 3

  Julia

  My head. Painkillers. I need a painkiller in the worst way. Like yesterday.

  Even though my eyes feel like they have fifty-pound weights on them, I somehow manage to open them slowly, relieved it’s still dark outside, and I don’t have to deal with the bright sun shining in my face. A quick glance at the digital clock on the bedside table tells me it’s five in the morning. Good enough to get up and make some coffee. I have a feeling I might need a lot today.

  Pushing the blanket aside, I try to lift my upper body as slowly as possible. I freeze when I’m held back by a weight on my belly, making it impossible for me to move any farther.

  What the heck?

  There’s an arm slung across my midsection, and I’m trying hard to boot up my brain. I need to know what happened. But, I draw a complete blank. Most of last night is fuzzy at best.

  I finally manage to lift my head enough to peek past the fluffed-up pillow next to me and stare straight into Carter’s sleeping face.

  A quick double take of our bodies assures me we’re both fully dressed—thank goodness—even though I’m not entirely sure why I’m wearing his shirt. Not that I think I’d forget having sex with Carter.

  I don’t even want to think about that though since the thought alone would be a disaster on way too many levels. The pounding in my head gets louder, clearing my brain from all other thoughts.

  “Carter.” I keep my voice down, mostly for my own benefit, and push at his arm as hard as I can muster.

  Instead of waking up, he only grunts and turns his head to the other side, his arm still firm around my middle.

  Somehow, I manage to wiggle out from under his embrace, and after a quick bathroom break and taking some painkillers, I head to the kitchen for a much-needed caffeine fix.

  Before I know it, I’m a few cups in, cuddled up on the couch with the sun shining brightly outside, closing my favorite photo album of my parents—the one from their college years. Where they met and fell head over heels in love with each other, inseparable from that moment on. I always wondered, and maybe even hoped, if I’d find my other half that young too.

  Instead, all this crap happened, and I’m probably as far away from the love of my life as I could be.

  I blow out a loud breath, suddenly bothered by that thought.

  Even though my brain still feels a little fuzzy, it works enough to attempt and analyze my life and how I got to this point.

  Dumped by my boyfriend of two and a half years and somewhat homeless, because I’m not planning on really moving in with my brother and Carter.

  Getting embarrassingly drenched in the rain, followed by the most awful entrance back into Carter’s life I could have imagined. Getting high on sugar and drunk off my ass.

  The weirdest thing is, I’m not heartbroken. Yes, Nate’s words hurt me, but I feel like I’m done crying over him. I want to say I’m surprised, but I think I secretly knew I never fully gave him my heart. Maybe not even more than a teeny tiny bit as it turns out. It was nice with him, but maybe it turned more into a convenience over time than anything else.

  What screams the loudest in my head is probably the disappointment, the way my stomach clenches thinking about the last few years and how I let myself go. It’s as if I’ve been . . . complacent. Things with Nate were okay, so everything else in my life was okay as well. I’ve lacked . . . luster.

  Turns out, Nate might have had some good points after all, and a sudden determination to change my life for the better hits me, filling me with a new kind of high.

  Since my laptop is still on the coffee table from last night, I snatch it and open a new Word document. After staring at the blinking cursor for a while, my fingers start flying over the keyboard like they’re on fire, the constant flow of caffeine keeping my mind awake and going, despite my slight hungover state. Before I know it, the page is filled with random notes and a small list at the bottom. I stare at it for a moment before jumping into action.

  Two minutes later, I speed-walk across the living room back to my bedroom, armed with two coffees in hand, and my laptop tucked under my arm.

  Ready to go to war.

  Well, something like that.

  It feels good to be productive and active, and I’m hyped up on life. Okay, it’s probably more the caffeine talking, but still.

  I march into the room and plop down on the bed beside sleeping beauty.

  Growing up with him, I got to watch him change from a cute, gangly kid to a flirty and cheeky teenager. But grown-up Carter, he’s something else entirely.

  Without a doubt, he’s all man now. Tall and filled out in all the right places, a confident air about him that makes people take notice of him.

  He’s handsome and deliciously sexy, even I have to admit that.

  Without overthinking it, I use the next few minutes to study him silently. His dark-blond hair has gotten longer since the last time I saw him a few months ago, now unruly falling over his eyes. If he doesn’t brush it out of his face, it covers up his beautiful blue-gray eyes. To some they might seem boring, but to me they represent the ocean he loves so much, the ocean we all love so much.

  They’re my favorite part of him, and every time they zoom in on me, I want to let out a little sigh. Not just for me, but for all women across the world, and surely plenty of men too.

  Watching him, being this close to him, brings back memories. From a time where I was happier, where life didn’t seem so dull and sad. A life where the people I loved the most hadn’t left me yet, and I didn’t have to figure out how to manage life without losing myself in the process.

  Now, Carter represents everything good that happened before then, and I enjoy basking in the joy he brings me with his presence. After my parents died in that awful accident, it hurt too much to think about them, to think about anything from the past. Getting to this point where I’m able to think about them and setting foot in their house again didn’t happen overnight and took a lot of therapy sessions, but the pain has subsided some and is no
w mostly linked to positive memories.

  “You don’t think it’s creepy to stare at me while I’m sleeping?” Carter’s voice is raspy and full of sleep, immediately snapping me out of my thoughts.

  I huff out a breath, letting myself fall back on the bed to stare at the white ceiling instead of him, biting the inside of my cheek to refrain from smiling. “I think it’s rude to pretend to be asleep when you’re not.”

  I missed this banter with him. I missed him, plain and simple.

  The truth that I made a mess of my life these past few years hits me hard, and I know it will take me a while to work through this.

  I met Nate shortly after my parents’ death, and the years I spent with him, I can now see I virtually disappeared from my old life. My best friend, Michelle, is the only one who was able to stick with me, and it was anything but easy to say goodbye to my roommate and confidante of so long last week when she left to be an au pair in Australia for the next year.

  My brother was a whole different entity, and I only saw him on occasion, mostly when we had our combined therapy sessions. Once those ended, we started meeting up in places I deemed safe. This house, our parents’ house, didn’t feel safe. Not for a very long time. It was too much for me. Still is sometimes, but I can handle it.

  Most of the year surrounding my parents’ death is a blur. I spent it mostly at the apartment I shared with Michelle for a few years and the therapist’s office. I took a year off school, and once I went back for my sophomore year, I met Nate. He was nice, and for some reason, he felt safe, maybe because he didn’t know the old me. With him I could pretend everything was okay.

  Now, I feel like everything I avoided those years—this house, my brother at large, and Carter—were actually missing pieces of me.

  Maybe that’s why it feels like old times with Carter because everything is clicking back in place.

  He clears his throat, and when he speaks, the smile is easy to detect in his voice. “Color me surprised, but you’re a lot more chipper this morning than I thought you’d be.”

  It’s so easy to smile with him, his company effortless. “I might have had some coffee.”

  “Define some.”

  “I didn’t really count, but I think I’m somewhere halfway through the second pot.” The words flow out of my mouth in a rush before I look over at him.

  He shakes his head as much as he can with his head still smushed into the pillow. “Of course. You and your brother both have an affinity for caffeine.”

  “Anyway. I got some for you too.” We both sit up, and I grab one of the mugs from the nightstand to hand it to him before grabbing my laptop. “And I need your help.”

  After leaning against the headboard, he sends me a look over the rim of his coffee, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Uh-oh. Is it something I’m going to get in trouble for?”

  I can’t help but laugh at the expression on his face. Both wariness and amusement seem to battle his facial muscles, and I’m not sure which one is actually winning.

  “No trouble.” I shake my head. “At least I don’t think so.”

  He slowly rubs a hand over his face before focusing on his coffee. Somehow he manages to look like a model, even though he just woke up a few minutes ago in his rumpled clothes from last night.

  Totally unfair.

  I’m sure I still look like a homeless person, maybe even like I’m on drugs with the way my hands are shaking from the caffeine. But since Carter has seen me in worse conditions—puke and flu incidents included—he’s going to endure my . . . au naturel state at the moment.

  “Well?” He raises his eyebrows. “Are you going to enlighten me about what you need help with?”

  I clear my throat and open my laptop. “Yes. Of course.”

  He chuckles while I drum my fingertips on the keyboard, waiting for it to refresh. I peek at him over the screen. “By the way, what are you doing in my bed?”

  His mug stops halfway to his mouth as he stares at me. After clearing his throat, he chugs down what must be most of the coffee. “Well . . . you were pretty drunk and passed out on my lap, so I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  I vaguely remember him comforting me after I had another major meltdown, but I fell asleep on his lap? Man, I was really out of it. How embarrassing.

  “Thank you.” My response is mostly mumbled, and I’m relieved when the document finally pops up on the screen. I pretend like it didn’t happen and focus on my new project instead. “So, since we just established my drunken status from last night, I can’t remember what I told you, but my ex-boyfriend—on top of some epiphanies I had this morning—has given me plenty of reasons to think about myself and my future. Even though his parting reasons weren’t delivered in the best way, a bit assholish really, I can’t deny he had a point. So I made a plan for myself, a checklist of sorts.”

  Carter looks at me like I’ve lost my marbles. “Firstly, I disagree completely with what your idiot ex said about you. And secondly, you made a checklist? For what?”

  I nod, fresh pain shooting through my temples. Dang it. “Yes. You know how some people make lists for a project, personal goals, et cetera?”

  For a brief moment I wonder if he’s the right person to talk to about this, but since it’s the middle of the night for Michelle on the other side of the world, Carter will have to do before my brain explodes.

  Even though, my eyes ping-pong around everywhere but on him. “Well, I thought I could make a checklist to find a husband.”

  Once the words are out, I look up and see his eyebrows raised as he chokes on his drink.

  “You want to do what?” Cough. “Find a husband?” Cough. “And make a checklist for that?”

  “A husband checklist, yes.” My head bobs up and down robotically.

  Carter is a very fun-loving and carefree guy, but he can also be incredibly analytical, so I give him time to absorb the info I just threw at him.

  “Explain.”

  I try to ignore his expression and focus on my laptop screen instead. “Mmm, let’s see. Since my brain isn’t working at full capacity yet, I’ll keep it simple for now. I can always come up with a more elaborate list later if I feel like it. For now, I’ve mainly focused on the things Nate pointed out.”

  Carter grimaces and groans. “Please tell me you aren’t listening to anything that jerk said.”

  “He might be right though.” I hold up a finger to stop him from interrupting me. “Let me finish first, okay?”

  He frowns but nods. “Fine.”

  “As much as I hate to admit it, I think I understand where he came from. A little bit.”

  Carter’s jaw tenses as he quietly takes in my words, and I’m pretty sure I just heard him grind his teeth.

  “Nate’s a businessman first. We met in business school, after all. He wants to be this top-notch lawyer, and his public image is very important to him. I might not have tried my best to fit into that world.”

  “You shouldn’t have to try to fit in anywhere.” Carter’s outburst startles me for a moment. “It’s like he didn’t even know you if he thought you’d change for him.”

  I can’t help a sigh slip past my lips. “It took me a while to tell him what my business was, and I realize now that he thought I wasn’t serious about my career. Maybe he was hoping it was just a hobby, and I’d find something better and more respectable to do in the business world.”

  He rubs his forehead, looking more confused than before. “I thought you got your business degree to help build your jewelry business?”

  “Yes.”

  His gaze is laser sharp, one hundred percent focused on me. “And why is a jewelry business not good enough?”

  “Because it’s kids’ jewelry.” The words come out mumbled, and I throw my hands in the air.

  Carter stares at me for a moment before he chuckles, shaking his head. “That guy is such a moron, I swear.”

  More chuckles, my own mouth twitching in response.

  He
aring him laugh has always lifted my spirits, no matter what mood I’ve been in, and it doesn’t fail me right now either.

  “Stop it already.” Unable to hold my own laugh in any longer, I push at his chest a little but regret it the second I feel his hard muscles flex underneath my fingers.

  The contact makes him snap out of his laughter, making him stare at me with a serious expression instead.

  “Sorry, Jules. You sure know how to pick ’em. He’s obviously the idiot in this whole scenario, especially with your family background. Your dad and uncle are business moguls, and Ollie and I aren’t doing bad with our investment company either.” He grins again and shakes his head. “And then there’s you, rebel Jules. Ollie mentioned the business is doing well though, right?”

  “It is. I got lucky and had some high-profile moms buy some items from me. Once they started posting about it on social media, word spread like wildfire. The rest is history, so to speak.” I sigh. “Nate never even wanted to hear about the business. He said I was wasting both of our times and I should find a real job.”

  He pinches his lips together. “Why did you stay with him if he treated you like that?”

  Running a hand through my messy hair, I feel the frustration build in my stomach. “I don’t know. I guess I hoped it would go back to how it was at the beginning when we first met. We were a great couple back then. I think. Maybe we never were. I don’t know. It was just after Mom and Dad died, and I actually felt . . . content, something I hadn’t felt for some time, as you know.”

  Carter points a finger at me. “I get that, Jules, but that’s mistake number one. Don’t ever compare your later relationship to your honeymoon phase.”

  The laugh erupts out of me without a warning. “Where did you learn that, Dr. Love?”

  “I think my mom told me.”

  “Ah, that explains it. She’s on her what . . . sixth marriage now?”