Chapter Thirty-Four: Will

Kidnap My Heart

Chapter 34: Will

If someone had told me I would be standing in my dad’s cellar a week after Emma had run away, holding her in my arms after saving her from the ridiculous prison cell my dad had stuck her in, I would’ve laughed and said that was absolutely crazy. Because it was, but it was actually happening. I was really standing there, and I was really holding her, and I never wanted to let her go. It kind of felt like the moment I did, she would slip away again.

“Are we going to keep standing here just hugging each other?” Emma eventually asked, her voice slightly muffled. Her head was resting against my chest as she held on tightly, and she hadn’t bothered lifting it to talk.

“If you want,” I said, although I still didn’t move. I didn’t want to let go of her, but I didn’t want to force her to stay there longer than she wanted to, either. I had a feeling that would constitute as cuddle-raping, which apparently was not okay.

“I do, but I’m starving, and I don’t want to start exhibiting cannibalistic tendencies,” she mumbled against my chest. “For your sake.”

I laughed and shook my head. God, I’d missed her. She was so different from what I’d originally thought she was like—a good different. Definitely a good different.

“I need to take a shower, too,” she went on. “The bench in that cell is nasty.”

“If you’re trying to scare me into letting go, it’s not gonna work,” I said. “You weren’t in there long enough to become unsanitary.”

“You’d be surprised. What time is it?” she asked, pulling away to look at me.

“Almost nine,” I said. “My dad called me a couple of hours ago, and I came over here as fast as I could.”

I was surprised my dad had left me alone with Emma after everything that had happened. He had even said as much, basically, but he had also said that he assumed I was capable of handling her when she was locked up. He should’ve known better. There was no way I was going to leave her in there, especially not after what she had said to me. She was falling for me. She was feeling the same exact thing I was feeling. Hearing her talk about her feelings and her fears was like listening to my own thoughts.

As I stood there and stared into her green eyes, I let out a small smile. Maybe this was what Eric always talked about. Maybe this was the appeal he saw in serious relationships and being a one-girl kind of guy. The way I felt when I was with Emma was better than all of the flings I’d ever had, and we hadn’t even had sex yet. That had to mean something.

“Well, thank you,” she said, her eyes never leaving mine. “For coming, I mean. If I have to be here, I’m glad it’s with you.”

I grinned and kissed her on the forehead. “Come on. I’ll make you something to eat while you take a shower.”

“Okay.” For once, it wasn’t me that grabbed onto her hand. It was her that grabbed onto my hand, and this time, she was fully conscious. She intertwined her fingers with mine and squeezed. “Lead the way.”

I tried to act cool about it, but I wasn’t sure I did a very good job. I was so used to her pushing me away. Now that she was actually letting me in—well, starting to—I didn’t know how to handle it.

I led her upstairs, internally debating over whether or not I should just do the whole shebang. You know, the whole love confession romance thing. I wasn’t the best at that shit, but for her, I could figure something out.

Not that I was in love with her. I mean, that was… that was extreme, right? Oh, shit.

“Why do you guys have two houses?” she asked as we climbed upstairs. “Your dad said the other house was your old one and that you’d moved into this one, but he didn’t elaborate or anything.”

I grimaced. That was a conversation I didn’t really want to have at that moment. It was depressing, and things were just starting to look up for me. I didn’t want to ruin the good mood we were both in. “That’s a long story for another time, but in short, we moved out of the old house when I was twelve. I lived here for six years and moved out when I was eighteen.”

She raised an eyebrow at me and stopped walking when we reached the top of the stairs. “Your room didn’t look like a twelve year old’s room.”

“I brought all of my stuff back to the old house,” I said. “My dad told me we’d be staying there for a while, so we figured we’d make ourselves comfortable.”

“Does this room have your stuff?” she asked.

“Not yet. Most of my stuff is outside in my car. I need to bring it inside. I have your stuff out there, too,” I added. I’d even brought the dress I’d bought her, just in case the chance to give it to her cropped up. I had a feeling I’d actually get a chance to give it to her after what had just happened between us. Maybe that could be a part of my big shebang. “There’s a bathroom right by this room, though, so at least we won’t have to go downstairs every time one of us needs to shit.”

She looked at me in disbelief. “Your manners still never fail to surprise me,” she said, shaking her head and walking inside my room.

What? Was it something I said?

***

After establishing the fact that using the word ‘shit’ instead of ‘go to the bathroom’ was socially unacceptable—obviously spending a week at home had brainwashed her back into exuding perfect social skills and manners again—Emma grabbed two towels from the shelf outside of the bathroom.

Actually, no. Considering the fact that she’d made a comment about cannibalistic tendencies, I’d say she hadn’t lost all of her casual and inappropriate charm.

“There’s no hot water, is there?” Emma asked, setting the towels inside of the bathroom. She looked back at me and leaned against the doorframe.

“Probably not. If there is, it won’t last long.”

She groaned quietly. “I have to say, I didn’t miss the cold showers.”

“You know what could make your shower heat up?”

She looked like she knew exactly where I was going with this, but her lips still twitched upwards, and she asked, “What?”

“Me joining you in there,” I said. I placed a hand near the part of the wall she was leaning on and tilted my head down until our faces were nearly touching. I actually felt confident about this for once. I didn’t think she would actually take me up on my offer, but I figured I wouldn’t get smacked for suggesting it this time.

She enunciated her reply. “In your dreams, Squilliam.” This time, it was different, though. It was in the way she said it, like my offer wasn’t really that out of bounds.

“You have no idea,” I said, my lips hovering over hers. The last time I’d kissed her, things hadn’t ended well, but I was itching to do it again. In the time it took me to decide she wouldn’t run this time, she leaned upwards and pressed her lips onto mine. The initial surprise lasted two seconds at most before my eyes closed and my lips started moving against hers. I pressed her against the wall, and the way her body felt against mine was driving me absolutely crazy.

The kiss was shorter than I would’ve liked, but the way she looked at me after she pulled back completely made up for it. Even if she hadn’t told me she was falling for me, I would’ve known. It was in the way she looked at me, the way she kissed me, the way she talked to me, the way her body responded to mine. There was no denying it.

“I think I’m the one who needs to take a cold shower now,” I said. My voice came out husky. I really did need that cold shower.

Her cheeks reddened, and I couldn’t help but grin. Not because I reveled in embarrassing her, but because I liked knowing I could make her react like this. She was so confident and sure of herself all the time, and to me it seemed like I was the only one who could pull her out of that and make her nervous, make her question things. Call me sadistic or egotistical or whatever, but I liked that.

“Do I make you nervous?” I asked, pressing against her again.

I heard her sharp intake of breath, and I almost chuckled. “Sometimes.”

I leaned down and pressed my lips against the side of her neck. Last time I kissed her neck, it drove her wild, and sure enough, the same signs were there. Her breathing quickened, and we were so close that I could actually feel the shiver that went down her spine the more my lips moved against her neck.

I stopped kissing her neck long enough to ask, “And right now?” and then kept right on going.

She managed to reply as I was trailing my lips up and down her neck. “Yes.” If it had been more than one word, I wasn’t sure she would’ve been able to manage.

When my lips found their way back to hers, the tables turned. Even after I pinned her to the wall, she still found a way to turn everything around on me. She pulled me down to her level, and although I’d never been a fan of neck kisses, exactly, when Emma was the one doing the kissing, I could’ve stayed there all day. Her lips moved and grazed my earlobe and she whispered, “Do I make you nervous?”

Oh, hell yes. “Always.” This was what I loved about her. She knew how to give me a taste of my own medicine. I never knew what to expect from her. She always managed to surprise me with what she did and said.

She pulled away a little and smiled smugly. “Good. Well, I’ll be in here taking an annoyingly cold shower if you need me.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to join you?”

I swear, by the way she’d responded to me, I was sure she was insanely close to saying yes, but I didn’t want to push it. We were going by her terms. I didn’t want her to think this was all about sex or that I didn’t care about her.

“I’m sure.” Amusement filled her eyes all of a sudden. “Uh, for your sake, I hope there’s another bathroom. I think you might need that cold shower after all...”

I was confused until I glanced downwards. Oh. Oops. I guess I did need that cold shower after all. “Oh. Vlad’s just happy you’re back. That’s all.”

She laughed, and I smiled at the sound. Vlad wasn’t the only one who was happy she was back. “Just go,” she said, pushing me backwards. “And don’t forget you promised me food. Don’t let me down.”

“Have I ever let you down?”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, don’t answer that. I’ll go make you something to eat.”

“That’s what I thought.” She gave me a quick kiss on the mouth before slinking back into the bathroom and shutting the door.

Before I went downstairs to the kitchen, I pinched myself a few times. This had to be a dream, but if it was, I didn’t want to wake up.

***

In the time it took Emma to take a shower, I, uh, remedied my situation, carried the moving boxes out of my car and into my room and made Emma an omelet just the way she liked it. As we were eating and talking, it dawned on me that I liked just sitting down and talking to her just as much as I liked making out with her. This had never happened to me before. It was weird.

Well—okay, fine, I might have liked the making out a little more. I was a guy, after all. It was pretty much in my nature.

After we ate and unpacked my things, we just laid around on the couch and watched TV. Sometimes we would have a conversation; sometimes we would just make commentaries as we watched. I loved that Emma had the same twisted sense of humor I did. It made the commentary that much better.

Around ten o’clock, Emma started to fall asleep on me, and I suggested heading upstairs. I offered to carry her, but she refused and walked up the stairs by herself. She could never just let me have my moments of manly chivalry, could she?

She plopped down on the bed in my room as soon as she walked in, and I looked around for some blankets to make a bed on the floor. I knew how our system worked.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.” She patted the spot next to her and moved over a little.

Okay. So I didn’t know how our system worked anymore. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. “You’re actually gonna let me sleep on the bed?”

Emma shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

I smirked. “I told you you’d change your mind about sharing my bed.”

“Do you want to sleep on the floor?”

My reply was quick. “Nope. Just ignore me.”

“I usually do.”

I rolled my eyes and moved the bedspread over. “I usually sleep without a shirt at night, and if we’re gonna share the bed…” I didn’t think I even had to continue that sentence. She’d experienced it firsthand.

“That’s okay. You can take it off. I don’t mind.”

I shrugged and lifted the hem of my shirt up. Hey, if she changed her mind about this later, she couldn’t get mad at me for doing as she said.

I climbed into the bed beside her, enjoying the way her eyes trailed after my every move. She eventually snapped out of it and followed my lead, climbing inside the covers and rolling over so she was facing me. She hadn’t bothered changing into pajamas, but I guess yoga shorts and a tank top were basically pajamas, and I had no complaints about what she was wearing, anyway. No complaints at all.

“So we’ve been avoiding a lot of important topics today,” I said, flipping onto my side so we were facing each other.

“I know,” she said. Her face was so close to mine; it almost made me forget what we were talking about. “I’m an avoider and a runner.”

“You’re not running right now.”

“I’m tired of running. I don’t want to run from you.”

“I don’t want you to run, either,” I said with a small smile.

She just smiled back and briefly paused. “We can do the Reader’s Digest version of everything and eventually get the dirty details.”

I arched my eyebrows at her. “Dirty details? Tell me more.”

She rolled her eyes and reached out to shove my shoulder. “Shut up.” After a few seconds of hesitation, she spoke. “What are you going to tell your dad when he comes home and realizes you got me out of there?”

I shrugged. “The truth.”

She shot me a look. “I said the Reader’s Digest version, not the mentally incapacitated reader’s version. What do you mean by that?”

I shrugged again. “That I’m crazy about you and couldn’t stand seeing you in there. That you wanted to get out so you could be with me.”

The smile on her face waned a little. “Do you think he’ll be mad?”

“Probably,” I said. “But don’t worry about it. I won’t let him take you back. I’m not letting you out of my sight until I know you’re safe at home.”

“Are you getting all protective on me?”

“I have for a while now,” I admitted, brushing the hair from her face. “You just haven’t seen it until now.”

“I like it,” Emma said in a quiet voice. There was a moment of silence again before she asked, “Your dad threatened to hurt Taylor in his ransom note if I didn’t come. Do you think he really would have done it?”

I didn’t answer immediately. It wasn’t a question I wanted to be asked. “I don’t know. I’d like to think he wouldn’t, but I honestly don’t know by this point.”

She nodded slowly, her facial expression unidentifiable. “You know, when he was patting me down, looking for my phone, for some reason all I could think was that I wished it was you. Well, that and the fact that I wanted to break his wrists.”

I laughed. “Why, because you like it when I run my hands over your body?”

She cracked a smile. “Because then it wouldn’t have been so uncomfortable. You would’ve cracked a joke and things wouldn’t have seemed so dreary.”

“I can pat you down right now.”

“Or you can keep your hands to yourself.”

I shrugged. It was worth a shot. “I saw you on the news the other day. You lied.”

She hesitated to answer. “I know. I tried to convince myself to tell the truth, but you were right. I didn’t want you to get in trouble. I still don’t.”

“Why?” I asked. “I’m not completely innocent here. I would deserve any punishment they could give me.”

“I couldn’t stand to see you behind bars. I don’t see that as justice being served. Maybe this is just the Stockholm syndrome speaking. I don’t know.”

The thought that this might just be Stockholm syndrome stung, but I couldn’t bring myself to even consider it. This was too amazing to be anything but real. “No. No, this is real. My mom once told me that you would know when something was real and when it was just a crush or a fad. That you’d be able to feel it.”

“It feels real,” she whispered, taking my hand in hers. She started tracing the lines on the palm of my hand, giving me goose bumps. “It’s felt real for a while now. It’s why I ran when we kissed. It wasn’t because I thought you were a bad kisser or because I didn’t like it or anything like that.”

“That hadn’t even crossed my mind,” I exclaimed. It hadn’t crossed my mind because of the way she’d writhed beneath me—just saying. That tended to be a surefire sign that I was doing something right. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Maybe I am,” she taunted.

“Maybe I can change your mind then,” I said, moving my head closer to hers until our lips pressed together. Every time our lips touched, I felt like I was on the moon. It was like she was my drug, and I always craved more. That time was no exception. In the middle of our kiss, I muttered, “Changed your mind yet?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, her mouth never leaving mine. “I think I might need some more convincing.”

I laughed. Hell, she didn’t need to tell me twice. I could definitely see it now. I could see the appeal of relationships, and I wasn’t even technically in one yet. It wasn’t about being tied down to someone. It was a willing thing. That was why none of my relationships had ever worked. I wasn’t willing to make an effort for them, but for Emma? For Emma, I would’ve given the world.

Once we’d pulled away for air, I said, “I lied, by the way.”

She glanced up through her lashes. She was so beautiful. “What?”

“I wouldn’t choose everything I ever dreamt of, materialistically speaking. I would choose the love of the one I love.” Wait. Shit. Did that count as a love declaration? Like, a real love declaration? I’d said the word love, but I hadn’t said it directly. Oh, God, I was going to freak her out.

Instead of running, she just smiled. Maybe she hadn’t caught it; maybe I hadn’t actually said it and I was freaking out over nothing. “I lied, too,” she said.

When she said those words, they worried me. I never really knew with her. I wasn’t sure what she was leading up to. “About what?”

“I wouldn’t choose the ugly billionaire. I’d choose the hot poor person.”

Hearing her say that made my heart start beating erratically. Maybe this wasn’t so crazy after all. Maybe there was a chance we might work things out. Maybe the cat onesie and the rich girl could make it to the end.

“I’m glad,” I said. I could feel my face light up with a smile without hesitation. Feeling the need to offset some of the dramatic-ness of our words, I added, “I mean, I’m glad for your sake. Sure, the ugly billionaire could buy you a lot of things, but there’s one thing he wouldn’t be able to give you that the hot poor guy could.”

“And what’s that?” she asked, sounding amused.

“Hot and wild sex every day of the week,” I said, a wicked glint in my eye. “I bet he wouldn’t even use the huge house to his advantage. But the hot poor guy? Prepare yourself. In the shower? Whenever you want. On the counter? Hell yes. On the table, on a desk, hell, even on the stairs? Yes, yes, and yes.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Yeah, alright.”

“Hey, marriage is tough,” I said. “You have to keep the fire alive somehow.”

“Are you trying to tell me you’re married?”

“Of course not,” I said. “I’m just trying to subtly let you know I’d be a better choice than the boring billionaire.”

“I already know you’d be a better choice,” she admitted. She’d technically already said it, but hearing her say it outright was so much better.

“That doesn’t mean I should stop proving it.”

Our conversation continued down that track, and we ventured topics I’d never even thought to mention to other girls. Everything she said just made me that much more fascinated by her. I was captivated.

After about an hour, I could see her eyes start to droop. I was surprised she’d lasted this long. She probably hadn’t slept much the night before; she must have been completely exhausted. I brought her closer once she started to fall asleep as we talked, and she settled her head against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her contentedly. I could get used to this.

“Good night, Squilly,” she mumbled. Squilly/Squilliam should have made it onto my list of worst pet names ever. If it had been anyone else, it would have, but it was too funny to add to that list, and it had come from her.

“Good night, Rage.”

I felt her lips form a smile against my chest, and she settled down. Once I was sure she was asleep—it was hard to tell at first because she wasn’t snoring for once—I said it. I wasn’t sure where exactly it came from or why I wanted to say it so badly. I knew she couldn’t hear me, but I just wanted to do it.

Once I was sure she was asleep, I whispered, “I love you, Rage.”

***

A/N: So this and chapter 36 will probably end up being the cutest chapters in this entire book. I had this embarrassingly big smile on my face while writing this chapter and I hope you guys did too! It's one of my favorites.

Song at the side is You and Me by Lifehouse. Basically describes Will's situation and mindset in this chapter. It's such a beautiful song!

Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! :)