If someone would have told me I’d be sitting in a police station with my sort-of-girlfriend as she grins at me after being stuck in a room with a murderer, I would have laughed in their face.
But that’s my reality.
Since we talked to the police, explaining everything we know, as well as my dad being brought in for questioning for meddling in something he shouldn’t have, Scarlett hasn’t been able to stop beaming. She’s lucky that dude didn’t attack her. But even as my heart is still racing, she’s basically bouncing off the plastic chairs as I try to make sure she’s not in a state of shock right now and that she hasn’t been injured.
“You told him to shoot you?” I gawk, staring at her, still checking her face for any bruises or injuries. Her whole face lights up again, those deep brown eyes shimmering.
“Yeah,” she says, smiling wide, bearing all of her teeth. I shake my head at her but then I notice the cut on her lip. I run my finger across it, the finest bit of blood coating the pad of my finger.
“Did he do this to you?” I ask, gruffly.
“No. I bit it when I was hitting him across the head. You should’ve seen the way I-” When she sees I’m not smiling with her she stops, her shoulders sagging slightly as she pouts at me. As much as I’m proud of her, she gave me the fright of my life when I got the call from her mom telling me that Lucas had taken her phone. She was already on her way down to Denver when she called me, so I had to get here as soon as I could. “What’s wrong? Were you worried about me, Branson?” she coos.
“Of course, I was worried about you, you idiot. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt or worse. He’s a murderer.” I punch out those last few syllables with a poke to her cheek, but she swats my hand away.
“Yeah, but I’m fine now. See,” she says, standing up, wiggling her whole body for extra emphasis. A few people in the station turn around to us, shaking their heads. I grip on her arm, pulling her back down to her seat, resting my hand on her thigh as she looks up at me, a little confused.
I keep my eyes on her thigh, stroking my thumb on the fabric of her leggings. She places her hand on top of mine, squeezing it gently.
“When I put the pieces together, I was so scared, Scarlett. I thought this was going to be the day that I lose you and that thought fucking terrified me. I should’ve got to you sooner,” I say, looking back up at her. Her mouth opens, but I cut her off. “And don’t you dare tell me that you can handle yourself because that guy was, like, twice the size of you.”
She squeezes my hand again, smiling softly. “But I can handle myself. You saw it with your own eyes.”
“That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want to protect you anyway.”
She leans forward. Even though we’ve been in the hospital and in the police station for hours, she still smells like herself. She presses a kiss to my cheek and when she pulls back she’s smiling, her cheekbones high and her eyes squinting.
I knew it already. Of course, I did. But after being so incredibly proud of her, watching her handle the questions from the police with ease, the pure joy on her face as she recited the story, I realise now more than ever, that I’m in love her.
* * *
“So, it was true? Your family is still looking into it?” she asks me when we finally get back to Salt Lake, driving back to my house after a longer than necessary plane journey.
All we’ve done since we got back is retell our stories to each other. She tells me about how she ended up in the hospital room with a murderer and I tell her about how my dad went behind my back to continue digging into Scarlett’s family and how he found out about Lucas. Part of me is grateful that he did so I could get to her, but I didn’t want her to think that I was trying to do it behind her back.
As much as she wanted to talk with her dad, the doctors thought it was best for his recovery if she went home since she is still in some state of shock over what happened. It’s going to take a few weeks for Mateo to get back on his feet again. I promised her dinner so I’m going to give it to her.
“Yes and I didn’t know, I swear. If I did, I would’ve told you. They said they dropped it, but I think my dad must have kept digging from the funeral,” I explain to her, glancing over as I drive. I swear I’ve started to become her personal chauffeur no matter how protective she is about this car.
“For what?” I look back at her and she’s watching me drive. Well, she’s watching my hands on the steering wheel.
She shrugs. “I was so scared, Evan. Deep down I was petrified, but I was trying to be strong. To be strong for my dad, for my mom, for you. For everyone. And if I didn’t…”
“But you did,” I say with certainty. I take one of my hands off the steering wheel and rest it on her thigh instead, squeezing it gently. “Scarlett, you’re a lot stronger and tougher than you think. You always put on this confident persona, this armour, but it’s okay to be scared sometimes, you know. If you ever forget that I’m here to tell you. Every day.”
“Every day?” she asks, laughing a little.
Even after all that, she’s still acting awkward around me. As soon as we got into the empty house, she kept her distance. Even when the food came, she stayed in the living room, her knees pulled up to her chest. She’s either plotting to kill me or overthinking. I know better than to disturb her, so I start to dish out the food in the kitchen.
“It’s just food, Scarlett,” I call through the hatch in the kitchen. I hear her bark out a laugh over the sound of the TV.
“Yeah, it’s just food,” she says back to me, but her pitch is higher than usual. I knew the initial adrenaline would wear off at some point.
I go to the opposite end of the kitchen, retrieving the rest of the Thai food to dish onto the plates. “Do you want any crackers or are you one of those weird people who-”
I turn around and Scarlett’s body is pressed up against mine, her lips inches away from my mouth. She’s standing on her tiptoes a little, trying to reach my face.
I pull back from her, slightly. “Uh, hi?”
“Hi,” she whispers back, pulling her pink lips between her teeth before rolling them back out. I place the bag of food in my hand onto one of the counters. Her voice is still low and quiet as she says, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“That’s okay,” I whisper gently, pushing her hair behind her ear, loving the way she blushes ever so slightly. I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face as she continues pressing herself to me, holding her head higher. “It seems like you want to kiss me, Angel.”
“Seems like I’m not the only one,” she says, pressing herself into me and I can feel the way my dick presses against her stomach. I don’t know when I got so fucking hard, but it’s just her.
She wraps her arms around my neck, pulling at the hair at the back of my neck that’s wrapped around her finger.
“This doesn’t mean that I like you or anything, by the way.”
“Shut up,” I murmur against her mouth.
My lips connect with hers and I instantly feel at home. I don’t know how I’ve managed to deal without this for weeks. Without her. Because when Scarlett kisses me, she doesn’t just give me five percent, she gives me everything.
I crush her body closer to mine so she can feel everything. She can feel how badly I want her. Her hands play with my hair, pulling and yanking greedily and I let her. When her tongue sneaks into my mouth, I swear I die and come back to life. The kiss becomes frantic. Needy. Just fucking desperate. I curl my hands tighter around her waist, pulling her up until her legs cross against my waist, walking her over to the counter.
Her face is practically glowing red, her lips already a little swollen. She keeps her legs wrapped around mine as I go back in, tilting her head back to get more, as she moans happily into my mouth. I tug tighter on her hair, loving the way her legs tighten around me when I do.
I press rapid kisses across her face and her neck, watching her whole body flash with redness. She stripped down to only the thin top she was wearing under her cardigan so I can get a better access to her chest and the swell of her breasts. I bite and suck and kiss until she’s writhing beneath me.
I capture her lips again, needing to taste her. And God, she tastes so fucking good. It’s all sweetness and pure bliss.
“You shouldn’t feel this good,” she whispers into my mouth.
“But I do,” I say back, biting on her bottom lip and she groans. The sound goes straight to my dick.
“But you do,” she repeats back to me.
She kisses me deeply then, letting me push my tongue into her mouth and she sighs. As she relaxes, my hands start to make a journey up her shirt, feeling her bare skin against my hand. I know I’ve touched her like this before, but I don’t know what I was expecting.
“You feel so fucking soft,” I groan, kissing along her neck until I get to her ear.
“What does that even mean?” she says, laughing when I bite the smooth flesh just under her ear.
“I don’t know, but it’s driving me insane,” I say. I trail my hands further up her shirt until I get to the underside of her breast, but she reaches a hand down to stop me. My hand pauses as she holds onto my wrist. I pull back a little. We’re both panting, her lips swollen as her chest rises.
“I don’t think I want to do anything more, just yet,” she says nervously. “I mean- Of course I do. I enjoyed it last time, but not right now. I just- I just want to kiss you, Ev.”
“Then kiss me, woman,” I demand, and she does.
She kisses me so hard I almost pass out. I can’t help my bands roaming all over her body, silently claiming them. Every inch of her just makes me want more, but I tell myself to stop, only going as far as she lets me.
“Is this okay?” I ask into her neck while my hands reach around her back, trailing up her spine. My movements are soft and gentle against the warmth of her skin, taking my time to feel the beautiful inches of her body. She lets out a shuddery exhale as I run a finger down her back again. “Do you want me to stop?”
“It’s okay,” she pants, pulling me closer. “It’s good.”
“Are you sure?” I ask again, double checking. She pushes apart from me slightly, both of her soft hands holding onto my face in front of her. She tilts her head in that playful, sweet, and just fucking adorable way that I like.
“Just relax,” she whispers, pressing her mouth to mine, smiling against it.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been able to relax when it comes to you,” I say back.
“Can you try for me? I’ll tell you if it gets too much, okay?”
We start to find our rhythm. She tells me what she enjoys, and I give it to her. Anything she does makes me feel good, so I don’t even have to tell her. But my hand is wrapped around her waist, my other holding her neck when the front door opens. Both of our eyes shoot open, her hands pause on my chest, and I step back from her as I help her down from the counter.
As much as she tries to smooth out her outfit and her hair, her face is a dead giveaway. Her eyes dilated, her cheeks are deep red, and you can see where I’ve kissed across her chest. Just looking at her like this makes my dick ache. I turn my back to her as Xavier and Miles’ loud voices boom through the house.
“That was the worst game I’ve watched in my life,” Xavier says, walking into the connecting living room and kitchen. He looks up at Scarlett and then at me. “Oh, hey, Scarlett.”
“Scarley’s here?” Miles asks before coming into view. When he sees her, his eyes flicker between the two of us, his whole face lighting up. “Thank fuck for this.”
“Hi,” she says quietly, twisting her fingers together. God, she’s so cute when she’s nervous. “Evan was just-”
“Getting her and the girls some food,” I say, saving her. She sighs and I hand her the bag of food. We were meant to share it, but I’ll just make something of my own later.
“Okay, well I guess I’ll go. Thanks for dinner and… Everything.”
“You’re welcome and…. Everything,” I say back.
She walks backwards until she’s back in the living room as she picks up her cardigan and stumbles through the door. When she’s gone Miles and Xavier look at me accusingly.
“Okay. What the hell was that?” Miles asks, narrowing his eyes at me.
“Nothing. They were screaming about not having any takeout this late, so I got them something. It’s no biggie,” I lie, shrugging.
“You’re a shit liar, Branson,” Xavier says.
