Hearts of Darkness: A Valentine's Day Bully Romance Collection

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  He scoffs.

  “You play your way and I’ll play mine, but I promise my way will end with you and me sharing closet space, and that bikini shirt in ashes.” He kisses me on the cheek, and as much as I wish it could go down the way he wants, I know that it will never work out that way for us. I’m just not the girl that gets the guy...or the home. Happy endings happen to other people, not to me.

  No matter what happens, I make a decision to spend as much time as I can under his dreamy blue gaze, cradled in the warmth of his arms. This time, when our moment is up, I’ll give him the goodbye he deserves.

  AUGUST

  2002

  “DUDE, WHEN ARE YOU gonna come out? And don’t say shit about Elody. Every time you open your mouth, her name flies out,” Clyde says.

  I slide into my rolling chair at my desk and stare down at her room window. She’s not in her bed, so that means she’s awake. She said she’d put curtains up in the beginning when she caught me staring, but she’s been here for six months and the windows are still exposed.

  Sometimes I think she likes me looking, and sometimes I catch her looking up at me. Maybe it makes her feel less alone to see another face in the empty house.

  “Aug, are you even listening to me? I get it, your nanny is hot and shit, but we’re boys. Besides, you’re wasting your fucking time. You're a kid, and there is no way she’s into you like that.” He lets out a heavy breath.

  If he only knew. I wanted to tell him what has happened between us, but to do so puts Elody is jeopardy, and I can’t risk her getting in trouble and being sent away.

  “How ’bout I come over tonight and we hang out in the basement?”

  Elody comes into view in only a towel.

  She pauses in front of her bed, I don’t know what she’s doing. Maybe looking down? Her towel drops to the floor.

  Holy everything...

  “Yeah, sure, see you tonight.” I hang up on him ranting about something.

  She pulls a chair in front of the mirror and sits down, facing the window. She looks right at me. I want to look away, but that’s what a boy would do, and I have to show her that I’m a man.

  We stare at each other. My breath catches in my throat. She’s so damn hot. It took exactly three months for us to go from cautious flirting, accidentally touching, wrestling, to making out in the basement hot tub—always stopping before we went too far. We’d end up staring at each other with red faces, breathing hard, and ignoring my erection, which was really obvious.

  The worst thing my parents could have done was miss their two-month return, but it was also the best thing they could have done. Their absence led to this, our next step, I guess.

  Will she let me touch her or will I only be allowed to watch?

  With shaky hands I stand up and pull off my clothes, too. She stares at all of me and my knees buckle under my weight when she smiles and starts touching her breasts.

  I pull my chair from my desk, slide it in front of the window, and start touching myself. No one has ever seen me do this. I’m still a virgin. Her hands move lower, and she spreads her legs. I can’t see her body as well as I’d like, but it’s enough for me to tug faster and harder. She arches her back and her head falls as she enjoys her fingers.

  I want to be those fingers.

  I want to touch her. I want her to touch me.

  She stops rubbing herself and puts her finger into her mouth.

  “Jesus.” I nearly explode right there. My heart is running a sprint, but I stay in my chair, and keep looking at her. I’m her slave.

  When her finger comes out of her mouth, she curls it toward herself. Like the inexperienced dork I am, I point to myself.

  “Me?”

  She smiles and nods.

  I don’t remember leaving my room.

  This is the first time that I’ve ever run through my house naked or even in bare feet. My dick bounces all over the place as I sprint through hallway after hallway.

  When I get to her door I attempt to compose myself, but what’s the point? This is the best, most exciting day of my life.

  I knock on her door and wait. I don’t have to wait long before the woman of my dreams opens the door.

  She doesn’t seem as calm and composed with all the barriers gone. Her face is pink and she’s breathing hard.

  I take in her tight nipples, small, perky breasts, tiny waist, and flat stomach. She has a tiny trail of hair “down there.” I shake. My dick throbs. It may not be able to see, but it knows what’s going on.

  She holds up a condom. “I bought these at the store the other day.” She rolls her eyes and smiles. “I’m lying, I bought them two months ago.”

  An embarrassed laugh escapes me. “You’ve wanted this for two months?” I ask.

  “August, if I’m being real with myself, I think I’ve wanted this since the day I met you.” She hides her face in her hands, and when she comes up, she looks worried. “I don’t want to spoil the mood, but we could...I could get in a lot of trouble for this.”

  I totally get it. “I would never say anything. Besides, I’m not a child,” I tell her. “I’ve basically been on my own for a while. I told my folks I didn’t need a nanny.”

  We’re standing close, but not touching. I’ve never wanted anything more than I want her. I couldn’t feel any less like a boy right now.

  “It has to be your choice from here. I can’t make it, you have to,” she says.

  I rip the condom from her hand and push through the door, kissing her. Our hot, naked bodies press together.

  I pull away from her and look into her eyes.

  “I love you, Elody.”

  She attempts to look away, but I don’t let her. I know she feels something for me. We are together all the time. We’ve shared so much. Six months is more than enough time for her to fall for me. She just has to be honest with herself and say it, and I will give her everything I can. I would give her the world if I could.

  “I love you, too, August.”

  My body feels hot after hearing her words. Then, she drops down and puts her mouth on me, and I have never felt anything so good before. Her mouth around my cock covers my skin crawl with goosebumps.

  I pull her up and off of me. As good as it feels, I want to see her face. She fucking loves me. I can’t even remember my parents ever saying those words to me. She loves me. How did I get so lucky? My parents can stay gone as far as I’m concerned. I want to graduate early and play house with Elody.

  She helps me put the condom on and waits for me. I pick her up in my arms and carry her to the bed and give her everything that I have to give.

  I give her all of me.

  ELODY

  2002

  I GLANCE DOWN AT THE messy dark hair of this maddening boy and I know I’m going to hell for what I just did. All I have to do now is get knocked up, and I’m one of those teachers from the news. Fuck. Why couldn’t I resist him?

  Maybe it’s this secluded house in the middle of nowhere, or the Colorado altitude. That's it, I have altitude sickness. That’s what I’ll tell his parents if they ever find out. Maybe that way, they’ll just fire me. I’m a fucking character in a Steven King book.

  Who has sex with the sixteen-year-old boy that they’ve been hired to take care of?

  Me.

  I let out a long sigh. Who the fuck am I kidding? This person lying next to me is not a boy. No matter what his age is, he’s more man that half the guys I’ve dated. We made love over and over again, and the only way it will stop is if I leave this place. Now I know that can never happen. I’m in too deep, I’ve fallen too hard. I love him.

  For the first time in the six years that I’ve been doing this job, I don’t want to leave. Thankfully, when this two year gig is over, August will be eighteen and we can be together for real.

  I cover my face with my hands. Oh my goodness, this is so bad. I never plan for the future. I’ve never had a reason to. I look down at him sleeping so peacefully. Is he my future?
/>
  “I love you,” I whisper. My insides got so warm when he said the words to me. Nobody else ever has. I feel like I have loved some of the adults in my life, or at least I really tried to, but it’s difficult to love people who treat you like shit. Still, I was young, and it seemed natural to connect with other humans and feel and give love.

  I always thought it was me, like I was cursed to live my life on my own with only temporary human connections. Then I met August Mitchell, high school junior, probable genius, and the sexiest and kindest person I’ve ever met.

  I think about the day we met and his ‘gnarly troll’ and ‘grandma’ comments. What did his parents expect locking us up in this house together? They’ve even extended their trip twice. I’ve been here six months, and I think they’ve been here two weeks the entire time.

  It wasn’t as crazy when he had to leave for school every day. At first, he had a steady flow of buddies who came and hung out. He always tried to include me. Even when there were five or six teen boys rummaging through the fridge or racing around the basement, his eyes always found mine. We’d sit there together and watch his friends.

  When summer came, the friends disappeared. I never asked where they went, but that’s when the emotional connection between us deepened and changed. I fell in love with him before I even knew it was happening.

  Tears drop from my eyes onto the white comforter.

  “Are you gonna stare at me all night or help me out of this bed and make some food, woman?” he says. He looks at me with love and adoration, and it drains the gypsy essence right out of me. I don’t think I can ever leave him.

  I laugh when he sits up. His hair is all over the place.

  “You have a serious case of bedhead.” I reach over and muss his hair.

  He pulls me onto his very naked lap. “You should talk,” he says and musses my hair causing me to scream out and yelp.

  “I love you, crazy,” I say.

  “I love you, too.”

  I bite the side of my fingernail and stare at him. He looks so happy, like he’s lit from deep within. He brings his mouth to mine and bites my finger. When I drop it, he kisses me sweetly and softly.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be taking care of me?” he asks.

  “I thought I just did,” I tease.

  He smacks his lips to mine again.

  “Kitchen...five minutes.” He hops off my bed and strolls out of my room.

  “Bossy!” I shout behind him.

  “You like it!” he shouts back from down the hallway.

  No, I fucking love it. I fall back onto the covers and think about dangerous things like the future. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.

  I RUN A BRUSH THROUGH my hair and tie it in a messy knot on top of my head, then rush to throw on a summer dress without panties. I stash a few condoms in my dress pocket. A girl can wish.

  When I pad to the kitchen, he’s already there with eggs and bread set on the island. His hair is brushed and he’s a shirtless god in basketball shorts.

  I stand at the entrance to the kitchen and drink all of him in.

  “Nope, I’m not stepping foot in this kitchen while your muscles are hanging out. Put them away, so we can focus on food.” I smile, but my insides clench and tighten at the sight of his body. Sheesh.

  He smiles, dashes off, and returns with a T-shirt on.

  “Better.” I step beside him and we silently make omelets.

  I place mats on the table side by side then grab the juice. I don’t want to be far away from him for any amount of time.

  “You really like eggs?” I ask. He seems to eat them all the time.

  “Their my quick, go-to food.” He sets plates in front of us.

  “But the chef stocked the fridge with food.”

  He takes the seat next to me. “Too fancy. I get sick of gourmet.”

  I shrug. “I get that.”

  We sit and silently eat our food. Being with him like this feels natural.

  “I’d like to do that every day,” he says, looking down at me.

  “Have sex?”

  He shakes his head and smiles.

  “What?” I raise my eyebrow.

  “Sleep next to you in bed.”

  I blush, and I know my face shows it.

  “Me, too.”

  As we sit and eat our food, my only thought is how fast we got to this place—not in terms of time, exactly. We skipped so many steps, or maybe we crossed them too easily to notice.

  I drop my fork onto my plate and it clangs loudly against it.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  I shake my head. He doesn’t want to go down this road with me. I’m beyond repair, and he’s young with the whole world ahead of him.

  “Please tell me what’s wrong with you, El.”

  “I don’t know how.”

  He reaches out and takes my hand. He turns my chin toward his face, and my face warms from the light it brings. I have to stop this before we go any farther.

  “I’m no good for you, August.”

  He scowls, and his forehead creases. “How could you know that? I think you’re perfect for me.”

  I shake my head faster this time. “You say that because you haven’t lived yet. I’m sure there’s a bright and shiny girl out there that’s more suitable for you.” I look up at him and stare into his eyes; his silhouette blurs through my tears.

  He pulls me into his arms. He’s the adult in this moment.

  “Please, El, just tell me what’s going on. We can get through anything together.

  I pull away from him and deposit myself back in my seat.

  “Ask me why I do this job and why I limit my contracts to two years. Ask me where I come from.” I’m brimming with frustration.

  His lips form a harsh line and he looks confused. He lets out a heavy breath. “Okay, why, why, and where?”

  I smile a fraction at his wit. “I’m a foster child. My parents abandoned me when I was a baby. They didn’t want me—nobody did. I grew up in foster care, bouncing around from family to family. Not once did anyone consider adopting me.” I look into his eyes.

  “I tried so hard in school. I always behaved, and, still, no one wanted me long enough to make me theirs. When I turned eighteen, I aged out of the system, and that was it. I had no family and nowhere to go. I bounced around in a few shelters until a woman helped me. I was depressed and lonely and looking to belong. She helped me get into college and I was able to live in the dorms. That’s how I met Portia. She was my roommate, and she’s the closest thing to family that I’ve ever had.”

  He pulls me to him and squeezes me tight. I weep into his arms, and my chest shakes with fear. This is my deepest secret that I’m telling him. I wipe at my tears. There’s so much more to say.

  “I only accept two year contracts or shorter because I’m afraid of being tossed aside when the families are done with me. The kids are too big to need me anymore, and the family is so detached that it’s too easy for them to tell me goodbye. Then I met you. I love you so much, but my fear is so much stronger. I think I should leave before we go too far.” There, I said it.

  He gets up from the table and takes me by the hand. We walk down the hall, up the stairs, and to his room. He pulls the covers back and gestures for me to climb in. My heart is breaking because I have never said “I love you” to anyone in my life, and no one has ever said it to me. He scoots in behind me and pulls me against him.

  “You don’t have to go anywhere, El. You’re home.”

  “Don’t say that!” I attempt to pull away and run far and fast, but he holds me tighter.

  He kisses the top of my head. “Stop fighting and let me explain.”

  I relax in his embrace.

  “I’m a foster kid, too.”

  Okay, right. His parents own a mansion in the Aspen mountains with chefs and butlers and maids, and let’s not forget, nannies. I bite back a laugh, but, I don’t interrupt him.

  “I’m always in the care
of strangers. The only difference is that my foster parents come to my house. They always leave me. Some say goodbye, some don’t bother. I can remember being a kid and waking up to find out one of my nannies had left. I would cry and complain and miss them so much. One day, I didn’t care anymore. Don’t get me started on my parents, either. I don’t have to tell you how much they show me love or how involved they are in my life.” He kisses my hair. “So stop trying to break up with me or run away. We are the same, and now we have each other, and we can love each other enough so that we don’t need anyone else.

  I look into his beautiful blue eyes, and all I see is love.

  “Are you sure you’re sixteen?”

  AUGUST

  2010

  I SIT ACROSS FROM MY patient for the fifty minutes. She spent the first ten minutes of the session sulking on the couch with her arms crossed and her eyes closed. At twenty-four I have my BA, MA, and PhD, and if most people counted on their fingers the years it would take to amass such a collection of academic credits, my twenty-four years comes up short. So, rather than bother to inform them that I completed my first two years of college while I was still in high school, and I breezed through my BA in only a year and a half...I grew the beard. It keeps my adult clients from asking me how old I am. The only problem is, now I look too old for my teenaged clients...too much like an adult.

  And adults are the devil in their eyes.

  “Felicity, are we going to sit here for the rest of the session? I can pull out my phone and play a game or something.”

  She huffs and puts a pillow over her face.

  “Okay. It’s your dime, but I know if I had someone to talk to that wasn’t my parents, I’d take the opportunity.”

  She sits up on the couch and gives me the dirtiest look.

  “I hate your beard.”

  I smile at her and don't say anything. She’s talking.

  She slams the pillow down. “You know, if I was the twenty year old and James was the fifteen year old, nobody would give two shits about what we were doing.”

  I want to tell her that I beg to differ. In fact, if she only knew. Her words make me think about my past with Elody.