Amour Battu: Timeless Love: A series of Standalone novels Book 2

by Mj Fields

  31

  Natasha

  Surprising Stella was the best thing I could have done for her, and myself. To see her smile, melted my heart. It’s been nearly a year since she left school to stay home caring for her father, and it doesn’t feel like a minute has passed since the first time we talked.

  Aaron and I hung out at her place all day with her. When Bruno, her not so little ‘bother’ left to spend the weekend with her mother, I told her and Aaron all about Bass, Mom, the designer who was snagged by Ines, and the fact that Bass came to me, behind my mother’s back and offered me a job, and why it was important that no one knows for now, because of Ines.

  I think my hearing will be permanently damaged from Stella’s shriek of excitement. Half an hour later, Aaron left to take care of some stuff and would be returning when her Dad’s nurse came, so that we could go out, something she hadn’t done in months. After he left, she fell apart.

  We cried together as she told me how she knew he would be gone soon, and she was upset because he only had one thing left on his ‘bucket list’, but she knew he wasn’t strong enough for the drive. She left Niagara Falls for the last trip, because it was the closest to home.

  She cried when she told me that she and Elijah had sex and although she knows he loves her, he seems to be coming around less and less. She cried harder when she told me she knew it was her fault and that he deserved better.

  I told her it was her who deserved better.

  She asked me about my dating life and I told her everything from Autumn lying to my roommate, to Oliver going along with it, to the fake-up, throwing up on him and him taking care of me. I didn’t tell her about the Crazy Stupid Love/Dirty Dancing kiss because that was stepping over the line, even I knew it, but it felt so good. When she told me I should go for it, I had to tell her a little bit more about him and the fact that he was a friend, one I now depended on, more than I cared to admit.

  The conversation then turned back to Elijah, and Stella agreed if I valued Oliver’s friendship, I shouldn’t ‘go for it’ after all.

  The entire day, her father slept, only waking when he was in pain. I watched as Stella laid with him until the medicine kicked in and he fell asleep. My heart breaking the entire time.

  When his nurse arrived, Aaron walked in behind her with a twenty million-megawatt smile that lit up the darkened mood that had moved in while he was gone.

  “You ladies better get dressed, we’re going out.” He winks at me, and then looks at Stella. “That means I want to see you in color, your hair out of a ponytail.” He looks at me. “Do your magic on her, Fancy Face. Her boyfriend is meeting us.”

  “Elijah’s coming?” Stella smiles, but she looks almost hurt.

  “Says he misses his girl.”

  When we pulled up in front of Manhattan Bar, Elijah was standing there waiting. When I got out, he smiled and gave me a hug, and when Stella got out looking like a million bucks, his hands tightened at his sides. When I looked at her to see if she noticed the effect she had on him, her gorgeous smile told me she did.

  An hour later and I’ve drank my first two illegal glasses of champagne, which Elijah brought to our private table in the VIP section to celebrate Stella’s second night out in over a year. I already knew her first was the night they slept together, when she lost her virginity in a car. The fact that it was a limo erased how cliché it was, her words not mine.

  When she and Elijah went out to dance, I was left alone with Aaron.

  “All the success looks good on you, Fancy Face.”

  “Meaning?” I laugh and he smiles.

  “Meaning, you look stronger, surer of yourself, accomplished.” He sits back in the leather booth and looks me up and down while rubbing his hand thoughtfully over his chin. “Sexy.”

  “Sexy?” I laugh. “Trust me, I’m not.”

  He sits forward and grabs the beer he’s been nursing since we arrived. He nods, “Definitely sexy.”

  He takes a sip of his beer, sets it back on the table, stands and offers me his hand. “Let’s dance.”

  I take his hand and stand before saying, “Sure.”

  By the time we get through the crowd, I have looked him over enough to know Aaron still is beautiful, but the effect he held over me, unbeknownst to him, has dulled.

  Sexy, I laugh as I pass the wall of mirrors and see the same girl I was when I left for college.

  Love Lies by Khalid is still playing when we finally get beside Stella and Elijah. When Aaron’s hands rest on my hips, I put mine on his shoulders and he begins to move.

  I think of how different he and Oliver dance. Where Oliver’s intensity made me feel inept, Aaron’s ease makes me feel immediately at ease. When he leans in and says, “Definitely sexy, confidence is probably the second most beautiful thing you could ever wear.”

  I laugh, and he leans back and smirks then turns me, stopping my movement when my back is to his chest. He takes my hand and places it on his neck and moves our bodies. “You didn’t ask what I thought would look sexier than confidence.”

  “Okay, I’ll bite, what would look better?”

  He turns me around so I’m facing him. “Me.”

  I can’t help but laugh out loud and he laughs too.

  The song changes to Burn the House Down and I attempt to step away.

  “No way, Fancy Face, it’s been a long damn time coming, dance with me.”

  I stand there doing the best I know how and watch him move. I look over when Stella grabs my hand.

  “Elijah’s going to get a drink, can I join you too?”

  “Hells yes,” I laugh.

  “Lady Lala, let’s see you bust out those moves,” Aaron laughs.

  “Imma make you look like a fool out here,” she grins.

  “I dare you.” He gives her a motion like he’s saying the floor is yours as he slides to the side and then begins to move, like a guy who should be in a damn boy band.

  Stella shakes her ass as she moves to her designated dancing spot and then moves her core in circles to the beat of the song as she lifts her hands up her body.

  “Damn Lala, something’s changed since that killer two-step.”

  “You bet your ass it has,” she laughs.

  “Now you.” He points to me.

  Screw it, I think as I dramatically cross one leg in front of the other to the beat until I get close enough to him that he needs to take a step back, yet the playful smirk on his lips tells me it’s not going to happen, so I turn sharply and put my hands on my hips, moving them from side to side as I drop lower and lower.

  “Damn, girls,” Aaron yells, and begins to dance between us.

  I don’t know how many songs we dance through, but by the time it changes to another slow song, I’m definitely ready for it.

  When the song starts, Aaron’s hands are on my hips when I recognize it. It’s the song Oliver and I danced to in Paris. I don’t know why, but it feels wrong to dance with Aaron to this song, so I tell him I need to use the bathroom.

  When I’ve almost made it through the crowd, I feel a chill up my spine that stops me, and I look behind me.

  Oliver.

  He’s wearing black dress pants with a gray dress shirt unbuttoned, exposing some of the black ink on his chest, with the sleeves rolled up.

  I feel warm inside when his eyes meet mine.

  He lifts his chin, and I close my eyes and smile.

  “What are you imagining?” There’s a rawness to the way he asks me that makes me question if it’s him or I’m imagining it.

  I open my eyes and he’s standing in front of me, looking around the club like he’s uncomfortable, like he doesn’t know if he belongs.

  He belongs.

  I pull his hand out of his pockets one at a time and place each on one of my hips and then reach up and link my hands behind his neck. “I’m imagining a dance ending with a smile and not me throwing up on you.”

  The tension in his jaw loosens, and a ghost of a smile comes and
goes just as quickly.

  I lean in close enough to inhale a scent that’s become a favorite of mine, him. His fingers flex and then dig into my flesh a bit more than Aaron’s. He moves us fluidly, there’s no show to it, no elaborate moves, just… this.

  He leans in and whispers, “What are you doing here?”

  I smell alcohol and look up and see the red in his eyes.

  “When did you sleep last?”

  He closes his eyes and pulls me a little closer. “Close your eyes, Little Warrior, you rest, I don’t need to.”

  I’m not sure how many songs we dance through, but I remember every one seemed to be about us. And there wasn’t even an us.

  When I feel a tap on my shoulder, I step back and find Stella.

  “Hey, I have to pee.”

  I look up at Oliver and he lets go of my hips and whispers, “Go.”

  Once in the bathroom, I start to shut the stall door.

  “Oh no,” Stella laughs uncomfortably as she comes in and shuts it behind her. “Tell me who the hell that was.”

  I pull my skirt up. “I have to pee.”

  “You’re shaking,” she says as she shakes her head.

  “Happens when I drink.”

  “Or when you walk away from the inked God of… heat.” She shakes her head back and forth in confusion. “Natasha, the way he looked at you… tell me you got his name.”

  “I know his name,” I sigh and begin to pee. “It’s Oliver.”

  “Natasha, say what!”

  “Oliver.”

  “Bass’s Oliver?”

  I nod.

  “Oliver who you puked on?”

  I nod again.

  “Oliver who stripped you?”

  “Yep.”

  “Bathed you?”

  “Ran a bath for me.”

  “I like my version better.” She shakes her head. “That man has it bad for you.”

  “That man is my friend.”

  “Which is a solid foundation to build on.”

  “Stella, it can’t–”

  “Yet, it is. I mean, for fuck, he gave me an eye-gasm and your skin is still… gasming.”

  “I get cold when I drink.”

  “So you mentioned.” She palms her forehead. “Has no one ever told you to lie to your parents, not your friends?”

  I wipe and flush. “Do you have to go?”

  “You and I have to go find Oliver, I can pee later.”

  As she pulls me behind her out of the bathroom, through the crowd back to where I left Oliver and he’s still standing there, but now with a drink in his hand looking over the crowd, I try to stop, but Stella is on a mission.

  “I need to wash my hands!” I yell, hoping she’ll hear me.

  She doesn’t. “Hey Oliver. Natasha needs a ride to Autumn’s. I’m not feeling well. Goodbye.”

  “Stella!” I yell behind her, and I start to follow her when I feel his hand grab mine.

  I look back and he finishes his drink while his eyes stare into mine. He sets the glass on the table beside us and then puts his hands on my hips. I lift mine to put them behind his neck, but he lets go of me and takes them, looking over me, not at me.

  He lifts them both to his nose and inhales. I have no idea why, but I certainly can’t judge when I smell him every chance I get. When he puts one hand on his shoulder and holds the other still as he puts the one that’s free on my hip, I no longer feel chilled.

  When he holds my hand up to his mouth and licks each finger, I feel heat resonate in my chest. When he sucks on it, I feel the sensation in my nipples, only felt because of cold before, not because of the heat burning through me.

  “Oliver?”

  “Aaron Esposito wants to fuck you,” he slurs. “Not on my goddamn watch. And fuck Autumn. You’re coming with me.”

  Fifteen minutes later, I am freezing my ass off, teeth chattering, as I basically run behind him trying to keep up.

  When we get to de la Porte, he passes it and walks into the alley to a door I’d never seen and punches in a code. I hear a click, he opens the door, and we walk into the building. At an elevator, he punches in another code and the doors slide open. He lets go of my hand and places his on the small of my back, guiding me in, before he gets on and pushes the button labeled P.

  “The Ugly Truth elevator scene,” he slurs. “You don’t want to be kissed like that.”

  Oh my god, I think as I push myself back into the corner, hoping he doesn’t look back at me.

  “But if you want an elevator movie kiss, Fifty Shades is the one. Trust me, I Googled it.”

  I clear my throat. “Haven’t seen the movie.”

  “The rain scene kiss in Dear John, you’d get hypothermia with how easily your teeth start chattering. A hot shower would work better to play that scene out in.”

  It’s too bad he didn’t start this on the streets, at least there would be oncoming traffic I could throw myself into.

  “I Googled every fucking one of them, Natasha, all underwhelming.”

  Or a window, I would definitely throw myself out of one of them right now.

  He reaches his hand back. “Phone.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there’s no reception in here and if you turn the thing off, whoever you’re sharing your location with won’t know you’re here.”

  “Shit,” I sigh.

  “What?”

  “My phone’s in my coat pocket, which is at the club.”

  “Jesus fucking H,” he grumbles.

  “I didn’t really have a chance to–”

  “I’m not pissed at you. I’m pissed at this whole fucking situation. You shouldn’t be here.”

  “No one knows I am,” I whisper.

  The door opens to the penthouse, a place I have dreamed all my life of walking into, but I don’t see a damn thing when he grabs my hand and pulls me behind him.

  I know the floors are marble because I hear my heels clicking on them, but I can’t be sure, it may be my heart beating fiercely against my chest.

  I know the walls are pure white, unlike my intentions, and hopefully his.

  I know we’re walking into a bedroom, and I know there’s a fireplace, because it’s glowing yellow.

  When he stops at the foot of a king-size bed, he drops my hand, walks into the closet, pulls out a tee shirt, turns around and hands it to me. “The bathroom’s in there, go change.”

  I stand there holding a tee shirt as he unbuttons his shirt while looking at me.

  His body is a work of art.

  “What do you want from me?” he asks and thankfully turns his back to me, giving me the courage I need to answer the question honestly.

  “I want to know you, Oliver.” I step forward and touch his back and trace the weeping willow tree inked there to mask the raised scars on it. “I want to know what happened here.” He hisses as if my touch hurts him and stiffens. “I want to know how this happened.”

  “It’s a weeping willow tree.” He clears his throat and continues, “Whenever I pissed him off, I had to go cut a piece of it from the front yard so he could whip me into a man.”

  I place a kiss to his back and he groans, encouraging me to place more and more against it until tears fill my eyes and I move to his side.

  I trace the gothic cross on his arm. “And this?”

  “Salvation,” he groans as I kiss his bicep. “I couldn’t stand up to them. Not for me, not for all the fucking kids they beat. I wasn’t strong enough. I let them all down, when one phone call could have stopped it. Until Bass.”

  “You were a kid, too, Oliver.” He tips his chin up and lets out a deep breath along with an almost sorrowful rumble.

  I walk to the other side of him and run my hand up his arm. “And all of these?”

  “All who were ever unprotected by me, I carry with me. Each symbol represents them.”

  “And the words fear no evil?”

  “Because I will never be afraid to do what’s right again. Regardl
ess of how torturous it is.”

  I lay my lips on each part of his ink and then stand in front of him, placing my hands on his chest. “And these?”

  “Armor, built by the souls of my fallen brothers and sister in arms.”

  “And these?” I trace the dogs sitting atop the face.

  “The hounds of hell I released, and because of it they died.” He looks down at my lips. His hand cups the side of my cheek and his thumb rubs across my lip, my scar.

  My God.

  He leans down and I close my eyes and wait for the kiss I know I’ve been waiting for my entire life. When he kisses the top of my head and inhales, I run my hands down his chest and let them rest on his hips.

  “I need to know how you fucking captured the scent of the ocean breeze and lavender scent that surrounds you.”

  “Oliver.” I press my body against his and I lift my chin slowly, our eyes meet.

  It surprises me when he steps back. He takes my hands from his hips and kisses the back of each before placing them on his chest.

  “Kiss me,” I beg in a whisper.

  He holds my hand and traces the angel wings on each dog. “These dogs were my father’s pride and joy, hunting dogs.” He lets go of my hands and turns his back to me. “He also used them to torment the only girl I ever thought I loved.”

  I walk around him so he can see me, the girl I know he’s falling for, the girl who has already fallen for him.

  He closes his eyes. “Oliver, look at me.”

  “Every time I do, I see her.” His whispered words are filled with pain. “They scared her, bit her face, she has the same fucking scar as you do.”

  He opens his eyes and I see pain, I see agony, I see everything I now know he has hidden from me every time we’re in the same room.

  “When I look at you, I see Grace.”

  32

  Oliver

  Monday morning I’m sitting behind my desk when the door flies open and crashes against the wall.

  “Jesus Christ, Autumn.”

  “I want you to know, I hate you.”