Page 44 of Entangled
And I wanted Soren to continue to have a tale to tell.
To grow. To keep living. To hopefully write herself a better ending.
But right now, I felt like a fucking failure, and like I was basically sealing her fate for her. I wanted to give up and cuddleinto a ball like a child would, except with a bottle of bourbon and drink all of my worries away.
What the fuck am I doing?
My brain may not have caught up to my heart yet, but I cared about this woman. I had to uphold my promise to her that I’d at least try to get her out of this situation. And I had three days of time to do it.
What kind of man was I if I didn’t take the remaining time that I had left and at least try?
So I took my balls out of my ass and decided to put all my wallowing and negativity back where it belonged, and I refused to let it show its face again.
The house was tooquiet for my liking that night after promising myself that I would try to find a way to save her. Like I was a damn superhero or something. All I was in this world was my dad’s servant boy.
Anger boiled inside of me as I sat here with a drink in my hand, stewing on what I was going to do, trying to think of some loophole.
Pissed at myself for getting in this situation at all. Pissed for caring. Pissed at Soren for making me feel this way about her.
So what did my slightly drunk-again, sorry-ass decide to do? I decided to go up to her bedroom out of guilt.
My bare feet against the stairs were the only sound in the house. It was like the sadness Soren was feeling spread throughout the entire thing, throwing the entire vibe and mood of the house away.
What I was planning to do once I got up these stairs I had no idea, and I had not a single plan in my head for any aspect of my life. I couldn’t make a decision on anything. It was just simple chaos and dumpster fires raging in my brain.
I was hoping the booze would help maybe loosen my nerves, but it just made everything worse. It made me not worth a damn to anyone. And I knew it was going to bite me in the ass later, considering my father had called me and texted me himself numerous times and I’d ignored them all. He never took the time to communicate with me himself, so the fact that he skipped my brother’s and spoke to me directly was a big deal.
“Soren,” I slurred, knocking on her door, realizing maybe I was way past buzzed. The line between right and wrong were blurred, and part of me craved her skin against mine, sexual or not. I’d take it either way. Another part of me hoped I could have her body writhing under me in pleasure, taking my frustrations out on her body. But she deserved better than that and I knew it, alcohol running through my blood or not.
I was met with silence, but that didn’t stop me from knocking on the door again. I hadn’t even bothered to look at the time or consider that she may be sleeping.
“What?” She grumbled, throwing open the door before I could even react.
Fuck.
She took my breath away as she stood there in a silk nightgown, like she was just asking for me to want her. And I wouldn’t lie and say it wasn’t working, my dick already hardening in my pants.
“We need to talk,” I said, immediately feeling sober at the sight of her and the state she was in: puffy, red eyes, blonde hair flowing beautifully down to her hips. I took in her green eyes and noted they looked glazed, like she had just stopped crying and was already about to start again.
It broke something inside of me to see her hurting so bad. I didn’t want her to hurt. I wanted her to feel happy. I wanted her tobehappy.
So that’s why I found myself crashing my lips against her, wanting to drink her in, hoping I could tell her everything in my angry, frustrated, wanting kiss.
She melted against me, bringing her body closer to mine, her arms that were slacked at her side now encircled my face as she began running her fingers through my hair. I swallowed her whimper, running my tongue along her bottom lip, wanting to never forget what she sounded like, and tasted like, and never wanting to forget how she felt against me.
I took my sweet time with this kiss, the heat eventually cooling down and our kisses slowing. We were both memorizing every piece of each other’s lips, me feeling her curves and committing them to memory.
I forced myself to break away, still having things to say, and knowing I needed to say them now before I lost the courage and didn’t get the chance.
“Soren,” I whispered, scared to put everything on the table, and afraid to show her the vulnerable side of me. The side of me that was angry, and fucking terrified when it came to her.
“If this is your way of saying goodbye, please don’t,” Soren pleaded in a whispered tone. “I don’t think my heart can take anything else.”
I swear in that moment you could have heard my heart crack. But you also could have heard my blood pound and my anger boil over. Because what was I doing? Why was I letting her go? Why wasn’t I protecting what wasmine?
“Soren, I don’t want to say goodbye,” I replied, meaning it with every fiber of my being. “But you deserve a life better than I can offer you.”
“You’re forgetting that you deserve a life that you want, Kade. Even if it’s not with me. You don’t realize I’ve learned you like the back of my hand since the moment I first saw you. I know how miserable you are, and the only person that can change that is you.”
