Page 64 of Scarred Sins
A soft knock comes to the door once I’m dressed. The shower was blissful, and the outfit I picked consists of a baby pink blouse that is tucked in a white pleated skirt, with the matching knee-high socks and chunky heels.
“Come in,’’ I called out, fixing my hair and looking at him through the mirror.
Arlo strolls inside, wearing a fitted shirt with the top two buttons undone, dress pants and fancy shoes, and a belt. His hands are tucked in his pockets, his perfect white hair styled back. There’s a glint of excitement in his eyes as he looks at me.
“You look beautiful,’’ he breathes out, watching me in a way I can only describe as awe. His eyes twinkle, a wide smile across his face. “So pretty.’’
My cheeks flush, and I fiddle with the hem of my skirt. Turning around to meet his eyes is either the best or the worst decision I’ve ever made because with a single look thrown my way, he knocked the wind out of my lungs.
“Thank you,’’ I whisper, tucking a freshly curled piece of hair behind my ear. Arlo steps forward and pulls out a small box out of his pocket. I frown, not expecting a gift from him.
“I’m not sure if you’ll like it, but,’’ he pauses and opens the box, revealing a small piece of satin.
My eyes skim the piece, unsure of what he’s expecting me to do with it. It’s in the same shade as my blouse, seemingly soft and beautiful, but eventually, completely and totally useless.
“Ah, thanks?”
He chuckles. “Turn around.’’
I listen and turn around, feeling his front touch my back. His soft breath hits my neck, and I shiver slightly at the unusual sensations that scatter through my body. Carefully, he takes the satin out of the box and twirls it around his wrist twice. He proceeds to grab the front of my hair and gently pull it back.
His eyes are on my head, brows knitted together as he focuses on the task at hand. I silently stare at him through the mirror, unable to speak or move, just letting him do his thing. His fingers are soft and gentle in my hair, and it makes goosebumps appear. Within a minute, he creates a perfect half-up, half-down hairstyle, tying the perfect bow.
“There you go,’’ he says, stepping back with a soft smile.
I twirl around until I can see the pretty bow myself, smiling. It’s adorable, and it makes my heart clench in an unknown emotion, squeezing it tightly.
“Where did you learn how to do this?”
Arlo chuckles. “I practiced on my little sister a lot.’’
I don’t know what comes over me. The emotions I’m feeling are overwhelming me, and I never learned how to properly regulate them. Before I can register what I’m doing, my arms are wrapped around Arlo’s torso, my head buried just below his chest.
It takes him a moment, but he hugs me back, holding me impossibly close. Neither of us speaks – we’re barely breathing, but there’s no need to speak. The silence we find ourselves in starts to heal something in me, and that speaks volumes.
In this exact moment I realize that there’s no letting go of this man. In every sense of the word, he’s mine. I’ll never give him up; I’ll never let him leave me, no matter what. Something deeper than mere feelings is binding us together in a tie so tight that there’s no going back.
“Blair,’’ he whispers softly against my head, then places a kiss on top of it. “I’ll hunt him down for you, I promise. I’ll do everything I can, and beyond, for you to get your revenge. I’m here, and I’m never leaving.’’
A choked sob comes from the depth of my throat, my mind finding solace in his words. “And if you can’t?” I whisper. “What am I supposed to do if he hurts you in the process?”
Arlo’s response is immediate. “You’ll never lose me, butterfly. I’ll always be here.’’
Undoubtedly, he means every single word. I inhale his scent while closing my eyes, and all I can think about is how I wish this moment would never end. Feeling the warmth of his body through the thin material of my clothes makes the lower part of my stomach twist and turn in the best way possible. Being in his arms like this is a big step for me, but it’s only the beginning.
Arlo’s hands trail up and down my back, softly stroking it. The soft patterns make me relax further under his fingertips, my heart skipping a beat. I take my sweet time, memorizing every single second of how it feels to be held by him. His heart is beating fast – it’s beating for me, and it’s the greatest feeling I’ve ever known.
“Promise?” Desperation laces my tongue, and I bury my face into his body more, desperate for contact.
“I promise, butterfly.’’
For another while, we remain embraced, listening to the sound of each other’s heartbeat. It’s a perfect symphony, almost like a lullaby. All of me wants to give and devote myself to him.
But I can’t do that.
Not until Paul Simmons is dead.
I’m starting to realize what it feels like to have someone on my side, someone who will be there with me every step of the way. It’s not just for me; it’s for Arlo, too. For the only person who didn’t judge me or see me as less. He treats me like an equal, but Simmons isn’t a small fish.
