The Temptation of Lila and Ethan (38 page)

When I climbed up that tree and ducked into her room, all I found was an empty bed. She was gone and that was worse than just dealing with an Ella in denial over her feelings for me. I knew she loved me even if she wouldn’t admit it, and I could handle that if it meant she was still in my life. But having her gone, missing from my life, having no idea where she was, was like losing my arm—or my heart. And right now, I feel like I’m verging toward that place again.

The cab driver is moving at the pace of a snail down the
road that leads to Ella’s and my secluded neighborhood and it’s driving me crazy. He actually looked at Lila, Ethan, and me like we were the ones who were insane when we’d hopped into the cab and I told him to drive as fast as possible and to not worry about the speed limit.

“Can’t you drive any faster at all?” I ask, thrumming my fingers on top of my legs. “We’re barely moving.”

He shoots me a dirty look through the rearview mirror. “I’m driving the speed limit.”

“You say that like it’s okay,” I say, leaning forward toward the plastic window dividing the front of the cab from the back.

“Micha, relax.” Lila touches my arm, trying to calm me down. Her blonde hair and red dress is damp from Ethan and her jumping off a cliff into the ocean. They were having fun while we waited for Ella to show up. We all should be having fun. But now I’m being stood up.

Stood up. Shit
.

I slam my hand against the plastic, losing my cool, something I rarely do, but all I keeping thinking about is that she ran. Again. “I swear to God, you need to press down on that gas pedal or else—”

“Micha,” Lila hisses, her blue eyes firm on me as she grabs my arm and jerks it away from the plastic window. “That’s not helping.”

I rake my fingers through my hair and then unbutton the top button of my shirt because it’s suffocating me. Lila hits redial on her phone, trying to call Ella for the hundredth time, but it
goes straight to her voicemail. Ethan’s hardly said anything, however I know what he’s thinking—that I should have expected this. But that’s the thing he doesn’t get. Yes, Ella does this kind of stuff a lot but it’s because she’s either scared or confused or hating herself. It’s what she’s done since we were kids. I know this, just like I know that no matter what we’ll end up together.

Finally, after an eternity, the cab pulls up in front of my house. I don’t even bother waiting for it to come to a complete stop before I shove open the door. I toss a few bills through the slot in the window and stumble over my boots as I step out onto the curb. Ethan shouts at me to settle down, but I shrug him off and jog across the lawn, stomping over the flowers tracing the path to the front door.

I remember when we first came to look at it. My mom knew a Realtor and she said she could hook us up with a cute house for dirt cheap, due to the fact that the owner was an old woman who bought it back when houses were affordable. Ella and I had taken our time walking around looking at the narrow bedrooms, the decent kitchen, the small backyard. I could tell she was pretending like she was uninterested, but I could see in her eyes that she loved the house.

“So what do you think?” I’d asked, nudging her with my shoulder as she stared at the yellow shutters decorating the front side of the house.

She’d nonchalantly shrugged, but bit her lip, which meant she was trying to suppress her enthusiasm. “It looks like a house.”

I moved up behind her and slipped my arms around her waist, stifling a smile as I dipped my mouth toward her ear. “A house you could see yourself living in?”

She dithered and the amusement laced her voice. “Well, me, yes, but you, I’m not so sure. Maybe we’ll have to find another place for you.”

I pinched her ass and it made her squeal. “Don’t pretend like you’re not picturing all the many places in it that I could fuck you,” I whispered in her ear.

She shuddered and I knew right then and there that it would be our first home. We moved in a week later and everything has been going really well for the last six months. I’ve been working on recording an album, playing in concerts, while Ella works at an art gallery and goes to school, wearing the ring on her engagement finger. She seemed happy and even content when we decided it was time to actually have the wedding. I’ll admit I would rather have had it back home where my mom could come to it, because I know she’s going to flip when she finds out we got married without her… or she would have flipped anyway. Now I’m not so sure there’s even going to be one.

Shaking the damn thought from my head, I make my way to the house. I quickly unlock the front door and hurry inside, scanning the living room for a sign that Ella’s bailed. Everything looks normal, but then again when she ran the first time, she barely took any of her stuff.

I check out the back door and the yard and porch are empty. Any hope is dissipating as I walk past the empty
bathroom and head to our room at the end of the hallway. When I swing the door open, I nearly jump back at the sight of her sitting on the bed, overwhelmingly gorgeous in her wedding dress, her legs pulled up to her chest, and her chin resting on her knees. She’s also wearing black combat boots, and it almost makes me smile because I couldn’t picture her looking more perfect.

But when she glances up at me with her big green eyes filled with so much sadness, it rips the approaching smile off my face. I don’t say anything as I make my way over to the unmade bed, stepping over the pile of discarded clothes, sketches, and my guitar. I sit down beside her. Reaching forward, I sweep strands of her auburn hair out of her eyes and tuck them behind her ear, then trace a line with my finger up and down her cheekbone. I wait for her to speak first, because I don’t know enough about what’s going on in her head to know the right thing to say.

We sit for what feels like forever, staring at each other. Neither of us budges, even when I hear Ethan and Lila walk up to the door; then they leave right away, like they sense that we need to be alone.

“I’m sorry.” Ella finally breaks the silence with a heavy sigh as she peers up at me through her eyelashes, biting her bottom lip.

I fight the urge to shut my eyes against the sting in my heart. “What happened? I thought…” I cup her cheek with my hand. “I thought we both wanted this, Ella May?”

Her bottom lip springs free as she releases it, then lifts her chin off her knees and sits up. “We did… I do… It’s just…” She releases a frustrated breath.

Pressure releases in my chest and confusion takes its place. “I don’t get it… You didn’t show up and you wouldn’t answer your phone.”

“I know,” she says softly with wide eyes. “But I couldn’t talk to you until I thought of the right thing to say.”

“Talk to me about what?” I’m nervous and it shows through the crack in my voice.

“About the wedding.” She glances around the room like she’s looking for an escape route, but ultimately her eyes land on me. “I talked to your mom the other day—she called me.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Okay… but what does that have to do with skipping out on our wedding?”

She gives a dishearten sigh. “She asked if we had set a date yet for the wedding yet,” she explains. “I didn’t know you never told her we were just going to get married here, without anyone.”

I tense, my fingers stiffening on her cheek. “Did you tell her we were?”

She shakes her head. “You know I’m a pro at lying.”

I snort a laugh. “Not really, but we can pretend for now.”

She shakes her head again, her lips twitching to smile as she swats my arm. “Stop making jokes. I’m trying to be genuinely serious and honest right now.”

“You, serious and honest?” I question with doubt, smirking amusedly at her. “Really?”

“I know it’s weird.” She pauses, breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale and nearly busting out of the black top of her dress. “I think…” She shifts her weight, tucking her knees underneath her as she kneels up. “It’s just that…” She squirms as she looks at the sunlight sparkling through the window. “I don’t even know how to say this,” she mutters.

I scoot forward on the bed, sliding the bulky material of her dress out of the way so I can get close to her. “Pretty girl, whatever it is, you can say it. You can say anything to me. You know that.”

She turns her head and our gazes fasten. “I know, but it doesn’t make it easier for me to say it… You know it’s hard for me to say how I’m feeling.”

I lace my fingers through hers and stroke the inside of her wrist with my thumb. “I know, but I’m always here for you.” I’m trying to remain calm, but it’s hard. She’s scaring the shit out of me, especially since I have no idea what the hell she’s trying to say.

“And it’s really hard for me to admit what I want sometimes,” she continues, shutting her eyes.

“I know,” I say, smoothing her tangled hair out of her face. “But like I said, you can tell me anything.”

Her eyelids flutter open, her pupils shrinking as they hit
the light. “I think… I think we should just…” Her hand shakes in mine as she takes a quivering breath and then the words rush out of her. “I think we should go home and have a normal wedding with our families.” She presses her lips together and holds her breath.

I remain motionless, trying to hold it in, because I know it’s going to piss her off, but eventually it gets to me and laughter slips through. “Oh my God,” I nearly choke on my laugh, wrapping my arm around my stomach as I lean back. “I can’t believe that’s what this is all about.”

“Micha.” She pinches my nipple through my shirt. “Stop. I’m being serious.”

“Oh, I know you are.” I continue to laugh and the longer it goes on the more irritated she looks, until finally she gathers her dress and gets up to leave. I quickly scoot forward, encircle my arms around her waist, and yank her back. She flops back down on the mattress and I enfold my body over hers. She instantly tries to squirm out from under me as I pin her arms to the side of her head.

“It’s not funny,” she protests, working really hard to stay angry with me. “I was trying to tell you how I feel and you laughed at me.”

“I know,” I tell her, stifling my laughter the best I can. “But you’re too fucking adorable for your own good.”

She narrows her eyes. “I’m not adorable and you know it.”

“When you tell me things like you want to have a wedding with our families and are nervous about it, you’re fucking
adorable,” I tell her and then lean down and kiss her cheek. “I love you and we can get married wherever, however, and whenever you want, just as long as we get married and you never stand me up again.”

She pouts out her glossy bottom lip. “I’m sorry. I just panicked.”

I lean down and nip at her bottom lip because it’s too delicious-looking to resist. “Next time, please just call me. Or at least send a text.” I kiss her again, then slightly lean away, the heat of our breath mixing together. “A simple SOS or something.”

“Deal,” she says. “But hopefully there won’t be a next time.”

“Take away the hopefully from that sentence.” I kiss her again, sliding my tongue deep into her mouth.

“Deal,” she whispers against my lips, panting from the kiss, and all thoughts of abandonment and fear slip away as we continue to kiss until the sun goes down.

I’m pretty sure it’s the best way to get stood up on my wedding day. If only I could continue to feel that way, but I can’t help but worry about going home. Not because of me. I can handle home and my mom and her dumbass boyfriend. It’s Ella’s family I worry about. Even though things have been decent most of the time, sometimes during her phone conversations with her father or brother, one of them ends up bringing up the past. And that’s the one thing Ella still struggles with, whether she’ll admit it or not.

The
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author Jessica Sorensen lives with her husband and three kids. When she’s not writing, she spends her time reading and hanging out with her family.

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Jessicasorensenblog.blogspot.com

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