Fearless For Love (Lovelly #3) (27 page)

PRACTICE TODAY WAS brutal. But that’s to be expected when you can count the days left before a big show on both hands. And knowing that Harrington was meeting with his dad while I played was nothing short of distracting. I thought they would be done way before my practice. But as I climbed into the car with Cat, I checked my phone. Nothing. I still hadn’t heard from him.

I stayed quiet all the way home, desperate to hear from him, but not desperate enough to be
that
kind of girlfriend. So once inside our apartment, I hopped into the shower and let the warm water wash my worry away. I stayed there until the hot water ran out.

Now, freshly showered and feeling a little less anxious, I finish drying off and wrap the towel around me before stepping out of the bathroom.

I yelp, startled to find someone sitting on the edge of my bed.

Harrington.

His shoulders are pulled back in a straight line, like he’s alert and ready to spring into action, but he doesn’t notice me, even though I’m only maybe an arm’s length away from him.

“Hey,” I say, placing my hand over his stiff shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

He looks up, his eyes dazed. “I have a half-sister.”

“What?” I say it before I even realize, like a reflex, completely caught off guard by his statement. Finally, his eyes focus on me.

“I have a half-sister,” he repeats, and it’s almost a whisper, his voice shaking with emotion.

I don’t know what to say to that. “
Are you sure
” doesn’t seem appropriate, and I grapple around for the right words. Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to need a response before he continues, his eyes taking on that far-off look again.

“He says he didn’t know about her until recently. That it wasn’t until the woman he had a fling with after my mom died sent him a letter that he even found out. A half-sister, Jess. I don’t even. . . . And then he had the balls to tell me not to say anything to my brothers. To keep it,
her
, a secret from them. How can I, though? Don’t they have a right to know? I mean, she’s our
sister
, for Chrissake.”

He drops his head into his hands, and it pains me to see him so torn up. I reach out and touch the crown of his head, trying to be his strength, to help somehow.

“What are you going to do?” I ask softly.

He shakes his head without looking up at me. “I don’t know.”

We stay like that for several long minutes, and I wait, giving him time to tell me what he needs. I run my fingers soothingly through his hair. Abruptly, he reaches up and grabs my wrist, and then I’m nestled between his legs, his head resting against my chest, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I realize that my towel is dangerously close to falling off, kept together only by Harrington’s hold and his face pressed against my breasts. I rake my fingernails over his head, trying to calm whatever beast’s stirring inside him.

I don’t know how long I stand there like that before he scoots back on the bed, pulling me up with him. I crawl across the comforter on my hands and knees until his arms are once again around me and his face is plastered to my chest.

“I need you, Jess,” he whispers a few beats later.

I kiss the crown of his head. “You have me.”

He tilts his head back; a sort of fog seems to cover his eyes. “No.” His voice is hoarse. “I
need
you, to feel you. Touch you. Kiss you.” His lips touch the skin at the top of my towel, which hovers dangerously on the verge of full frontal exposure.

“Oh,” I gasp, my eyes closing. His trail of kisses leaves a searing path across my shoulders. He suckles the rounded curve of my left shoulder, taking his time to kiss every inch of my exposed skin.

Fire runs through my veins. Each kiss is like a badge on my soul that grows brighter with every touch of his lips—a badge that says this,
I
belong to Harrington Lovelly.

And today it all feels even more intense, maybe because of everything that happened between us last night.

“You’re so beautiful, Jess,” he mumbles, his finger leaving a scorching trail of goosebumps across my skin as he traces lazy patterns on it.

I don’t know if this is the right time or place, but everything about this moment feels perfect. In fact, no matter the place or time, everything’s always perfect when he’s there. Even when I ran from him, even when I let my fear and my past push me away, I knew. It isn’t just a feeling or a thought anymore. It’s him. And me.

It’s us.
We
’
re
perfect.

It’s a hard realization, but it’s the truth.

My gaze drops to his mouth, and I pull my bottom lip into my teeth, holding back a smile.

I lean forward, my eyes zeroed in on his mouth as I go in for the attack. The second our lips touch, I’m lost. His hand travels up the side of my body to the top edge of the towel. He tugs it slightly.

“You’re naked under this,” he whispers into my mouth.

“I did just get out of shower,” I reply with a crooked grin.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” Then he pauses, pulling back and looking deep into my eyes, asking me a question I can’t hear.

“I trust you,” I say as I dive back into our kiss. He pulls me forward until I’m straddling him and I move my hips back and forth, pressing myself closer against him.

His groan comes out as a strangled cry.

“Jess. Sweetheart.” He thrusts his hips up and I gasp, the pleasant sensation jolting up through my nerves. “You’re making it very hard for me to be good.”

“Why be good, when you can be so, so bad?” I ask saucily.

Then I’m lost somewhere between Heaven, Earth, and Hell, so much so that I can’t do anything except gasp every time he thrusts upward, the friction of his jeans doing some crazy, amazing things to my body.

He takes advantage of my parted lips, thrusting his tongue forward to touch mine. Our breaths are heavy and short and fast.

“Harry,” I cry into his mouth.

“You are my savior.”

I mumble my agreement. Because he’s mine to. He’s finally taught me to trust again. Even with all the lies that started our relationship, there’s no one that I’d trust now more than him.

He pulls my lower lip between his teeth and teasingly bites it.

“O-oh,” I moan and press my forehead against his, feeling my nerves coil into a tight bundle from the friction between my legs.

He grabs my hips and pushes me down as if to encourage me. As if to say that it’s okay to use him for what I need. “Let me, Jess . . .”

“Harry . . .” My head is thrown back, and I release a strangled cry as the friction of the denim is replaced with that of his fingers. He presses his lips to the column my neck, slowly kissing his way to my pulse as his other hand snakes up my side toward my chest.

He nibbles me on that spot just below my ear and I’m
so
close to falling over the edge. I grunt and writhe, lost in the sweet, sweet torture.

He whispers, “Let me see you let go, sweetheart.”

And with those words, my legs tighten, and my toes curl, and my stomach flips as my world bursts into brilliant color. I nearly fall backward, but his hands are there, catching me, letting me ride out the wave as he continues to kiss my exposed neck, my collarbone, the top of my shoulders.

When I come back down to Earth, I’m lying on my back, Harrington beside me. I turn my head to the side and see that he’s smiling.

“What?” I ask, my cheeks flushing as I pull the comforter up to my chest. I wonder vaguely where the towel went.

“You’re a scratcher,” he responds.

A what?

Noticing my confusion, he pulls his t-shirt to the side. Three faint pink streaks mark the curve of his neck.

“Oh my god!” I exclaim. “Did I—? Did I do that?”

He nods, his grin getting wider. It’s starting to take on the equivalent of a madman’s gleam.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, pulling the sheets closer to my neck, as if covering my body could cover my embarrassment.

“Because you’ve already marked your territory, love. Last night.”

I slap my face, groaning, my cheeks burning.

“It’s fine, sweetheart. I kinda like it. In fact, I’m looking forward to the next time you
claim
me as yours.” His grin is downright devilish now, and I pull the covers over my head, peeking out at him.

“You’re not helping.”

“What? Sex with a little pain can be quite intense.”

“Okay, okay. You can stop helping, now.” I throw the covers back away from my face and give him a half-serious glare. But I can’t keep it together and a small smile breaks through.

He chuckles. “Come here.”

I do. I wrap my arms around him, realizing that I’m completely naked under these sheets, while he’s still fully dressed. Harrington shivers the moment our upper bodies touch. He looks at me as his calloused hand freely roams, pushing the sheet out the way as he trails his fingers from the base of my hip upward, caressing my bare skin. His hand grazes the bottom of my breast . . .

I gasp and once again, he’s on me like a starved man, kissing me like he would devour me if he could. When he pulls back, his pupils are dilated, so big and round that I can barely see the hazel in his eyes.

My ribs ache from how hard my heart beats against them and my lungs burn as they work hard to supply air. Every fiber of my being feels hyper-sensitive and alive.

He presses his forehead to mine. “Don’t ever leave me, Jess.”

“I don’t plan to.”

“Good,” he responds, before his mouth captures mine again and his clothes come off. Soon, the only sounds in the room are those of our bodies taking pleasure from one another.

I KNOW THIS isn
’
t real
.
It can
’
t be
.

For one
,
Mom
’
s alive
,
and two
,
my father is happy
.
He
’
s laughing as picks her up and swings her around
,
beige sand flying from her bare feet
.

I walk closer to get a better look
,
and that
’
s when I see younger me
,
running
toward them and crying my heart out
,
wiping at tears that won
’
t stop
.

“
Baby
,”
Mom says as younger me flings himself into her arms
,
sobbing into her shoulder
.
“
Harry
,
how
—
what happened
,
sweetheart?
”
She pushes me out to arm
’
s length and studies my injuries
,
her eyes wide
.

“
Harrington
,
how
. . .
who did this to you?
”
Dad directs his question at younger me
,
and I note that he
’
s concerned rather than angry
.
Oh how quickly some things change.

“
Give him a moment
,
Homer
,”
Mom tells him
,
gently running her hand over my hair
,
soothing
.
A few minutes pass
before she finally tries again
. “
You can tell us whenever you
’
re ready
,
Harry
.
Just take your time
.”

Younger me wipes his tears as he snuggles into Mom
’
s lap
.
Spattered blood covers his shirt and coats the bottom half of his face
,
dried evidence of the stream that had come from his nose
.
“
I told someone that it
’
s not nice to pick on others
,
because they were making fun of a kid that was stuttering
.”

“
Here
.”
Dad hands the handkerchief he always seemed to carry back then to Mom
.
She dabs at my wounds
,
blowing air over them as she listens
.

“
So he asked if I wanted to take the kid
’s
place
,
and then he picked me up and threw me on the ground
.
He climbed on top of me
.
I tried to kick him off, but he was too strong
,
Mom
. . .”
Young me hiccups as he cries
.

Dad
’
s mad
,
his face red
. “
Who was it? Show me
—”

“
Homer
,
calm down
,”
Mom says to him
,
then turns her attention to me
—
the younger me
,
that is
.
“
What happened next?
”

“
His friends pulled him off me and they left
.”
Young me sniffles
,
and she wipes my tears
.

I cover my cheek with my hand
,
trying to remember what her touch felt like
.

“
You told me bullying is wrong
,
and that I should never stand by and watch someone get hurt
.
I didn
’
t do anything wrong
. . .
right
,
Mom?
”

“
Oh
,
sweetheart
.”
She kisses my bruised face
. “
No
,
you didn
’
t do anything wrong
,
Harry
.
You stood up for someone who needed help
.”

Dad kneels next to her and ruffles my hair
. “
How
’
s the other kid?
”

Young me
,
the one that didn
’
t mind being called Harry
,
gives a crooked smile
.
“
He might have to be a pirate for a few days
.”

Dad
’
s laugh is loud as he says
, “
That
’
s my boy
.”

Mom glares at him
,
then turns to me again
. “
I
’
m proud that you
’
re willing to protect someone and were really brave
.
But I also want you to remember that you should come first
.
You need to be safe first
,
before you can protect anyone else
.
Okay?
”

“
Why
,
Mom?
”

“
Because
. . .”
She sighs
,
looking to Dad for help
.

“
What if I
’
m too late
,
then
,
and the other person is hurt because I
was too scared?
”

Mom smiles
. “
Harry
,
you are a lot of things
.
But from the second I had you in my arms
,
I knew you weren
’
t a coward
.
That
’
s why I worry for you sometimes
,
sweetheart
.
You fight so hard for others that I
’
m afraid you
’
ll forget about yourself
.
Like your father does
.”
She glances up at Dad
with a chiding smile before she turns back to younger me
. “
But you know what?
”

“
What?
”
Little Harrington
’
s eyes turn big and bright
.

She grabs his tiny chubby cheeks and kisses his forehead
. “
You will always win
.”

“
You think so?
”

She nods
. “
I know it
,
deep in my heart
.”

She looks up at Dad again
,
and something passes between them that I never noticed before. A sort of sad acceptance
,
a precursor of what was to come
.
She looks back down at younger me and turns his face so she can look him
,
me
,
in the eye
. “
There will be times when you
’
re lost
,
Harry
.”

“
Like I was at the mall?
”
he asks
,
confusion knotting his small brow
.

Mom nods
,
running her hand over his head
. “
Yes
.
Like the time at the mall
.
But I want you to remember that there
’
s always going to be someone who will help you find your way
.”

“
Like you found me
,”
he replies
,
his face bright and full of cheeky smiles
.

She nods again
,
and that subtle sadness I
’
d seen flashes over her face
,
more pronounced this time
. “
But I might not be there for you every time
.”

Tears start to roll down little Harry
’
s cheeks
. “
But you
’
re always there
,
Mom
.
Who will find me if you don
’
t?
”

She smiles
,
kissing my forehead like she knows something I don
’
t
.
I feel a pang of grief stab hard at my chest
,
knowing now that this was only months before we lost her
. “
Trust me
,
sweetheart
.
When the time comes
,
you
’
ll be found again
.
And when you are
,
don
’
t lose that reason
,
whatever it happens to be
.
Okay
,
Harry? Don
’
t ever let that go
.
Fight with everything you have until you
’
re not afraid anymore
.”

“
Why
,
Mom?
”

Tears brim in her eyes
. “
Because that
’
s the day you
’
ll be free and fearless
,
fighting and falling in love
.”

Little Harrington cups Mom
’
s face and brings his close to her
. “
I
’
ll never let you go
,
Mom
.
I
’
ll protect you
,
and me
,
and my brothers
,
and everyone who needs to be protected
.
I
’
ll be your fearless warrior
.”
His words
,
even as innocent as they are
,
ring powerful and strong
,
and I know deep inside me
that I truly believed
.

She chokes back a sob and puts on a brave smile
. “
Promise?
”

“
Promise
.”

My eyes pop open. The ceiling above me is stark white in the early morning sun. Disoriented, I slowly pull myself out of the remnants of the dream and assess my position, becoming aware of the warm body snuggling into my neck. I take a deep breath and draw my other arm over the warmth, turning into her.