Chapter Twenty-Eight: Will

A/N: Probably my single favoritest chapter ever, and I mean it this time. Scout's honor. Except I was never a Girl Scout. But that isn't relevant. Just trust me on this one.

***

Kidnap My Heart

Chapter 28: Will

I wasn’t sure why I was even pushing this or what the hell was going on with me. It was a stupid metaphor, anyway, something only Emma would come up with. A designer dress vs. a cat onesie. It was stupid as fuck.

Why would I want to be the cat onesie she was embarrassed of? It was demeaning. Actually, it was, in a way, what I did to other girls, but not because I thought I could do better. That was the difference between me and Emma. I knew the girls I dated could do better than me. I couldn’t give them what they wanted, just like Emma couldn’t give me what I wanted, but in pretty much every other aspect, I did the same thing Emma was doing.

I avoided turning my flings into relationships and kept them in the dark. I didn’t introduce girls to my dad or to Eric or to any of my friends. I didn’t take girls on romantic dates. I mostly just took them to my bedroom. I didn’t make plans too far into the future because I couldn’t see myself with any of them for more than a couple of weeks. I avoided “defining the relationship” and referred to what we did as “hanging out.” I didn’t have real conversations with them. Hell, I probably couldn’t have told you some of their names, much less what they liked or didn’t like.

I didn’t do girlfriends. I didn’t choose weird cat onesies. I didn’t choose anyone. So why did it bother me that Emma might be the same way? It shouldn’t have, but it did. It bothered me. It bothered me a lot.

All I really wanted to do was shut up and drop it. There was no point in going on with this. I was in over my head. I’d finally met a girl who wasn’t interested in me at all, partly because of our less-than-ideal circumstances. If she was interested, even a little—and at moments I would’ve sworn she was—it would only be in me as a fling. All I would ever be to her was an embarrassing cat onesie she secretly hung out with.

Yet I couldn’t stop myself from speaking again, and I hated myself for it. I was turning into Eric. I was turning into my mom. “How did you describe the cat onesie again? Comfortable?”

She just nodded, a blank look on her face. If she’d known what was going through my head, she wouldn’t have looked so calm. She would’ve been out the door before I could count to ten. Not that it took me a particularly long time to do that. I could count perfectly well. Hell, I was pretty sure I still remembered how to count in French. Un, deux, trois, quatre—damn it, Will, priorities!

Snapping out of my distracted train of thought, I said, “I mean, I’m no expert or anything, but I’d say you’re pretty comfortable with me.”

“How would you know how I’m feeling?” she asked. She still had that forced blank look on her face. She didn’t want me to see what she was really feeling.

“You pull pranks on me, even pranks that involve touching my boxers. You work out with me and you don’t care if I see you all sweaty or make fun of you because you can only do ten pushups. You don’t wear makeup, and you didn’t buy any when we went to the mall. You have no problem sleeping in my bed. You reference Vlad the Impaler just as casually as I do. Do you need me to go on? Because I can.”

Emma looked at me warningly. But it was more than that. She looked scared. Worried. Like she was convinced if I said the wrong thing—or the right thing, depending on how you looked at it—I would strike a cord and everything would change. “Will.”

Unfortunately for her, I couldn’t have adhered to her warning even if I’d wanted to. “What was the other one?” I wasn’t going to let her stay silent this entire time or stick to one-word answers, so I waited for her to respond to my question.

She visibly suppressed a sigh. “It never fails to make her laugh or smile.”

“Even if you’re just laughing at me, not with me, I’d say it’s a rarity if I fail to make you laugh or at least smile.”

“I beg to differ,” she muttered. She was the one looking down at the floor now, not me. If she would’ve just looked up, I might’ve been able to tell what was going through her head.

I raised an eyebrow.

She risked a glimpse at me and clarified her words. “Laughing at your idiocy doesn’t count.”

“It counts.”

The calmness in her tone faded, and aggravation took its place. Now we were getting somewhere. “Why the hell would you want to be my ridiculous cat onesie, anyway? God, Will. When I came up with this stupid metaphor, it was supposed to stay a stupid metaphor. You weren’t supposed to put so much thought into it.”

Frustration swelled inside of me, and my tone began to match hers. Why did she have to make everything so difficult? “Then why did you?” I demanded.

“I didn’t,” she snapped.

It wasn’t until we were face to face that I realized we’d somehow inched closer. I couldn’t even remember moving. I’d been so wrapped up in what was going on, trying to figure out what was going through Emma’s mind that everything else didn’t seem important. “Admit I’m your cat onesie.”

There was a fire in her green eyes, one I hadn’t seen before, not even when I’d first met her. This wouldn’t have riled her up so much if she didn’t think there was some truth in my words. I was right. I had to be right. “You’re ridiculous. This entire conversation is ridiculous.”

“Just admit it,” I insisted. I just wanted to hear her say it, even though I could see the truth in her eyes.

“Why does it even matter?”

Because… I couldn’t say why. Not even inside of my head. “I don’t know. Just admit it.”

I should’ve known she wouldn’t listen. She just wouldn’t back down. The next words that came out of her mouth were strongly enunciated, and that same fiery look was still in her eyes. “Let. It. Go.”

And then, without even a moment of thought, I did what I’d been dying to do since we left that photo booth. I cupped her face in my hands, leaned in, and kissed her again. But this time, I wasn’t going for a two-second kiss. I wanted to know what really kissing her felt like, how her lips would feel moving against mine.

At first, she tried to push me away. I felt her hands on my chest and there was a gentle shove in the opposite direction, but I had a feeling this was done half-assedly. If she’d really wanted me to stop kissing her, she would’ve punched me in the face or kneed me in the groin. Instead of letting her go, I snaked an arm around her narrow waist and brought her even closer. I wanted to deepen the kiss, but I didn’t want to push her too far, not until I knew for sure that this was what she wanted, too.

And then it happened. Her body relaxed. Her hands relaxed against my chest, and her lips started to move against mine with a passion that surprised me. It was as perfect as I’d imagined. Maybe more perfect. Her hands traveled upwards and rested on my shoulders as our lips parted and we fell back on the bed. I couldn’t believe this was happening. This was really happening. God, she was worth the wait.

I climbed on top of her, my mouth never leaving hers. My hands ran up and down her arms, and I marveled at how soft her skin felt against my fingers and how small she seemed underneath my body.

Soon, both of our hands started to roam—mine as they explored the skin that had been exposed when Emma’s tank-top rid up, hers as they explored my back and tugged at my shirt. I wasn’t sure if she was in a lust-filled haze or if she was as aware of what she was doing as I was, but at that moment, I didn’t care. I was kissing the girl of my dreams, and she was kissing me back.

I let her take off my shirt, lifting my arms to help her out. My heartbeat accelerated when her hands touched the bare skin of my chest and abs, and when she started tracing the v-line that led to my hip bones, I felt like a motherfucking virgin. How the hell could she make me feel this way? I’d never felt this kind of high before, and I wanted her to feel the same one. My lips left her mouth and began to trail along the nape of her neck as her fingers knotted in my hair, and I pulled off her tank-top before returning my lips to hers.

Eventually, I gently broke away from her so we could both catch our breath, resting my forehead against hers. There was something in her eyes I had never seen before. I didn’t know what it was, but I liked it. It caused the same reaction I’d felt when her hands began to explore, but she didn’t even have to move a muscle. This was more than just a physical and sexual attraction.

I was falling for this girl.

“You’re so beautiful, Rage,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. It dawned on me that this was the first time I’d used a nickname that wasn’t generalized while I was with a girl. I didn’t feel the need to use any pet names. She was Rage. She was the only Rage in my life. There was no mistaking her.

A slow smile spread across her face, and she let me kiss her again. It didn’t matter to me that she wasn’t the one making the moves here. The way she was responding told me everything I needed to know.

“I’m crazy about you, Rage,” I mumbled, pulling away just enough to talk. As soon as I said the words, I crashed my lips back onto hers.

This time, the kiss was short-lived. She pulled away and muttered, “I can’t do this.” She pushed me away with all of her might, stumbling up off of the bed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, quickly sitting up. One minute she was warm and inviting, the next she was cold and distant, effectively shutting me out again.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” she muttered to herself, completely ignoring my question. She frantically searched the room for her tank-top and found it on the floor by the bed.

“Wait, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed things this far. I should’ve taken it slow. I got carried away, but we don’t have to do anything. We can just lay here and talk or watch a movie or something. This isn’t about sex if that’s what you’re thinking.” I figured that was what she was thinking.

She just shook her head rapidly and pulled her tank-top back on.

“Rage.” I really was okay with slowing things back down, but I didn’t want to lose her. I didn’t know why I felt this way at all. She wasn’t even mine, but after that moment we’d just shared, I couldn’t help feeling like she should’ve been.

“I need—I’m going downstairs.” She jerked her thumb backwards and awkwardly nodded. With that, she went off and ran downstairs.

I jumped up, pulling my own shirt back on as I jogged out the door. We needed to talk about this. She couldn’t just run off like that without any explanation.

When I got downstairs, Eric and Taylor were talking to Emma. Taylor was wearing the hippie disguise, so they must have been planning to go somewhere.

“We’re just going into town for some groceries. It’s not going to be very fun or anything,” Eric said, furrowing his eyebrow at Emma.

Emma was undeterred by this. “Can Will and I go with you guys?”

At first, the only thing I felt was confusion. I just couldn’t figure her out. One minute she was making out with me. The next she was running out of the room. And now she was asking Eric if we could go to the store with him and Taylor? I didn’t understand, and if I didn’t know what she was up to, there was no way I was letting her go anywhere. “No, Emma and I will stay here,” I said, shaking my head. “You guys go.”

“But I want to go,” she insisted, looking back at me.

I almost gave in just to make her happy, but giving in didn’t seem like a smart idea. She was obviously freaked out. She’d felt something when we were kissing. She had to have felt something, but now she was fighting it, and she could do anything by this point. I didn’t trust her. “We’re staying.”

She pressed her lips together and grabbed my hand, pulling me aside. Eric raised an eyebrow at this, but I just subtly shook my head once and shot him a look that promised I would tell him later. We had a lot to discuss.

Once Emma and I were far away enough that Eric and Taylor wouldn’t be able to hear us, I started to go on a rant. “Look, I don’t care what you’re planning on saying, Rage. We’re not going anywhere. I’m not going to let you go. I mean, one minute you’re running out of the room because we made out, and now you’re acting completely calm, wanting to go grocery shopping? I don’t think so. I don’t trust that you won’t do something reckless because you’re so freaked out by what just happened between us.”

Emma shook her head impatiently and held up her hands. “Look. Do you want the truth behind this or not?”

“Yes.”

“Then shut up.”

“Okay.”

“Look. After that…” She couldn’t even say it. “I don’t trust myself to stay here with you. Alone. Obviously, I’ve lost my mind or maybe my hormones are just acting up, but whatever the reason—it can’t happen again.”

I shouldn’t have been so surprised. She saw this as a mistake. What else would she see it as? I was just a fucking cat onesie. I knew I was below her and didn’t deserve a girl like her, but accepting reality sucked. Accepting that she’d accepted reality sucked even more. That was why she’d left and said she couldn’t do this.

“Why?” I asked. “Afraid it’ll mean something?”

She didn’t answer. She just looked up at me and asked, “Can we go or not?”

If I said no, she’d push me away even more than she was already pushing me. If I said yes, I’d risk losing her and screwing everything up. Either way, I lost.

“Fine,” I said. “We’ll go. But the same rules from last time apply and you’ll have to dress like a guy again.”

I would just have to keep a close eye on her to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid and try to run. I didn’t think Taylor would want to run now that there was something going on between her and my brother and she wasn’t denying or fighting her feelings, but I still needed to be careful. I didn’t want to ruin things even more. Not when it came to Rage.