Unloved: Chapter 39

The dorms are empty and quiet on a Friday night, but after several unanswered calls and texts to Rosalie, I decided to make a house call.

“I know you’re in there, princess,” I say again, banging on the door a little harder. I would feel bad if I thought she was already asleep, but I know Ro enough to that she won’t be able to sleep after that.

—God, does it feel good for that to be true, to know her inside and out enough that I can be here, her support system when she’s so often been mine.

“Please, Rosalie,” I beg, pressing my mouth against the wood and projecting my voice.

Finally, the door opens. I’m leaning heavily enough on it that I stumble a little and reach out to steady myself by grasping Ro’s upper arms.

Ro’s so beautiful that seeing her always feels like I’ve been checked into the boards by some massive defenseman, breath knocked clean out of me.

Her hair is frizzy, bigger than I’ve seen it—like her curls took on the stress and anxiety of the evening as much as her body did. She’s still wearing what she wore to work, I assume: jeans and a flowy sage-green top. The ribbon holding her hair up is sad and droopy now, the entire ponytail nearly undone.

Shaking hands with pearly nails reach up to wipe newly formed tears, her bottom lip trembling as she shakes her head. Her face is pale, hazel eyes red and watery.

“S-sorry.”

I shut the door behind myself.

“Come here, Rosalie,” I whisper, and she collapses into my arms. I press my back against the door and take her full weight, wrapping my arms around her and kissing her hair and along her forehead while I whisper, “It’s okay. Sadie, Liam, Oliver—they’re all okay. Everyone is safe and okay. You’re okay, Ro.”

“It’s my fau—”

“It is your fault,” I say, pushing her away from me a little. “Hey, hey.” I wait until her eyes are locked firmly on mine so she can see the ferocity in my stare. “None of this is your fault, okay? You didn’t do anything.”

“I tried to call—”

“I know, princess.” I crush her back into my chest. “You’re so perfect, so selfless. You do for everyone around you—and tonight was a freak accident. It could have happened to Sadie if she was picking them up, to Rhys, to Anna or Max—

of them. Would you want Sadie beating herself up over this?”

She shakes her head, forehead rubbing across my stiff button-down and suit jacket.

“Would you think Rhys was bad for Sadie if this happened to him?’ ”

She shakes her head again.

“Exactly. So let’s get rid of any of the self-blame stuff, okay?”

“Okay.”

I wait for her to release me, but she only hugs me tighter, which sends a thrill of being wanted, for pure comfort, zinging up my spine.

Until I feel her shuddering increase and realize… she’s sobbing. Hard.

“Whoa.” I gently try to pry her from my body but she doesn’t budge. “Rosalie, please.”

Finally pushing her back enough, I can see she’s crying desperately now and my stomach drops.

“Hey, hey, hey.” I smooth her hair back from her face over and over. “It’s killing me to see you cry, princess. Please.”

“I’m s-sorry,” she splutters, words mangled and caught up in sobs.

“Don’t apologize, love, just tell me what I can do to fix it. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I think—” She hiccups a few breaths, trying to get enough air to speak, before whispering, “I miss my family,” into the quiet, darkened room.

My body settles with the ache of a familiar pain.

.

“Okay.” I nod, pressing another kiss to her forehead and tightening my hug around her for one last squeeze. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. I want you to go shower, do whatever you need to do to relax and feel good again. Cry if you need to, take your time.”

I can’t stop fluttering little kisses across her skin, especially as it seems to soften her cries until they are fewer and further between.

“Okay.”

“Can I use your computer while you’re in there, princess?”

She nods before sliding from my arms and into her room with my hand in hers. She lets me settle onto the end of her bed with her opened laptop in my lap before she gathers more clothes and heads to the bathroom.

I wait until the water is on before biting my tongue to swallow the anxiety of what I’m about to do and hitting the call button on her screen.

They answer on the second ring.

She’s washed her hair, which takes much longer with her curl routine, as she walked me through it mindlessly once when I asked. She waited after every step for me to get bored, but I could listen to her talk about the scientific process of paint drying without batting an eye. Everything she says is enthralling to me.

However, it means I’ve had nearly thirty minutes to chat and laugh with the kind, gentle woman on the screen.

Still, I go quiet as Ro emerges.

She’s in the doorway of her bathroom. Her striped pink pajama pants flood her ankles just clearing the length of her legs, while a massively oversized shirt with a bespectacled teddy bear reading a book and bright bold letters saying Beary Yourself in a Book covers her down to midthigh.

Smiling bigger, I hold my finger up to the camera and prop the laptop in the corner of her half-made bed.

“Is that my mom?”

I take Ro’s hand and lead her over.

“I ordered you some food to get delivered from The Chick,” I say, knowing full well they deliver and that I used my scary senior privileges to get one of the team freshmen to make a trip for me. “Should be here soon. I’ll leave it outside your bedroom door with a knock.”

She looks a little shell-shocked, but not unhappy as she turns toward the screen where her mother is still smiling like she’s won a free cruise.

I don’t wait for the rest of her reaction before seeing myself out of the bedroom and into the living room.

“You’re still here?”

My body shoots up, having almost fallen asleep on the couch. I raise myself up and look over at her.

Clearing my throat, I say, “Rhys called. Sadie is staying at her house with the boys. And… I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“How was time with your mom?”

“Amazing,” she says, walking over to sit opposite me on the sofa. “Thank you, Matt. I don’t… I can’t tell you what that meant to me.”

“Good.” I smile at her gently.

“And thank you for the food, too.”

I laugh lightly. “The Chick really helps when in deep emotional turmoil. Can’t say how many times I’ve eaten my feelings there.”

She grins and shakes her head.

“You’re still in your suit.”

I only realize that I am, in fact, still fully dressed, suit coat and all, after she points it out.

“Only for you, princess,” I flirt. “Figured you’d want to admire your choice in person.”

There’s a bright flush to her cheeks. “I knew you’d look good in the blue. And I can’t really imagine you in a tux.”

“No?”

She shakes her head, biting on her lip.

“You’d be right,” I say, standing to slide my suit coat off and toss it over the back of the sofa. I take the opportunity to sit closer to her this time, my arm stretched out behind her. “I’ve never worn one before.”

Ro grins again, her mouth on the straw as she takes another loud sip. She presses play on the TV, where the music has paused, Manchester Orchestra’s “The Sunshine” serenading us.

“My junior prom date wore this godawful baby blue tux that didn’t match my dress at all—a pink jacquard dress that I hemmed and changed the neckline on myself. I thrifted it.”

“You know I’m gonna need to see those pictures,” I say, and she smiles, eyes glinting with pride.

“Anyway, with his eighties powder-blue suit and my pink dress and heels, we looked ridiculous. Like lopsided Easter eggs.”

A laugh bursts unbidden from my chest, head tilting back as my arm slips to her shoulders and pulls her in a little closer.

“I’m sure you were gorgeous, and he was just a bad accessory.” I pull at a loose thread on the shoulder stitch of her shirt. “Did you redeem yourself the next year?”

Ro shakes her head. “No, um…” She trails off, hesitant, chewing mercilessly on her lip. “My dad had a stroke that May, my junior year. It was really touch and go for a while.”

My heart thuds a little harder as I squeeze her tighter in my arms, a familiar, similar pain throbbing in my chest.

“After, I spent a lot of time taking care of him.”

“I didn’t know,” I breathe. “That’s… that’s horrible, Ro.”

“Yeah.” She nods, head bobbing out of my hold on her. “But he’s okay now. He can’t really move that well anymore, and he has trouble speaking, gets stuck on words sometimes.” She pauses. “It’s why I started going by Ro, instead of Rosalie. It was easier for him to say.”

“That’s—”

There are no real words to say, all of them sticking in my throat.

Instead, I lean in and kiss her forehead, hard, taking a minute to feel her skin against my lips, still dewy and warm from her steamy shower. The crisp smells of tropical florals and coconut waft from her damp, springy curls into my nose.

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

She laughs. “Yeah, yeah.” She snuggles into my hold now, fully relaxed in a way that works like a calming drug to my system. Her giggles slowly die off before she asks, “What about your prom?”

I want to smirk and ask, “

”

But something about the way she’s looking at me, wide hazel eyes and a little soft smile, makes me want to be different. Makes me wish I was someone different. Her vulnerability pulls at mine, but I am drowning in humiliation.

So I lie.

“It was amazing. I look great in baby blue, princess.”

Realizing I won’t say more, Ro tucks her hair behind her ear and inches closer, so our thighs completely press together, knee to hip.

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” Her head tilts almost too close, voice dropping into a whisper.

“Yeah,” I breathe, the answer coming easier than I expect. “Do you want me to?”

“Yeah.”

Breaths come out slow but uneven as our mouths move closer and closer together. Kissing her now would be easier than , and yet…

“Do you want me to kiss you?” I ask, lips brushing hers with the question.

She moans slightly in the back of her throat, but there’s a hint of hesitation, and that’s more than enough for me to pull away.

“Wait, I—”

“It’s okay, Rosalie,” I whisper, smoothing her hair back. “But just know—the second you ask me to kiss you again, I’m not holding back.”

And though I have self-control, I’m not a saint, so I steal a kiss on her cheek, near the corner of her mouth.

“All I have to do is ask?” she asks, raising her hand to where I my lips had just been.

I nod. “All you have to do is ask.”