Page 12 of Losing the Forbidden
“I’m sorry you’ve lost a parent. I know how hard that is.” I keep any unpleasant words I might want to spew about him to myself. The time will come where I’m going to have to tell her everything, but tonight, I just want us to eat. I want to spend time with her. To just be able to look at her. I want to pretend for an hour or so that things aren’t totally fucked up.
“I’m doing okay.” Her voice is weak and unconvincing. I can tell by her tired eyes and sad expression that she’s anything but okay, but I don’t point it out.
We eat in silence, but it’s not as awkward as it could be. Just being in her presence brings me a kind of peace I’ve not experienced in such a long time.
Mum eventually appears, looking worse for wear. She joins us at the table but forgoes the food in favour of the wine. I bite my tongue from chastising her for drinking on an empty stomach. Turning up unannounced following the death of her husband and proceeding to tell her what to do is sure to go down like a lead balloon.
“You two go and relax. I’ll clean all this up,” I offer, once Lauren and I have finished eating.
Mum immediately gets up, and after thanking me unconvincingly, takes herself and her wine into the living room. Lauren hangs around a little, watching me curiously as I start to tidy up.
“What?”
“N…nothing.” Raising my eyebrows, I wait for her to elaborate. “It’s just…you’re different.”
“Different? Is that meant to be a good or bad thing?” My physical changes since the last time she saw me are quite obvious. My annoying teenage floppy hair has been shaved off, and I’ve spent many, many hours in the gym as I fought to forget and put this place behind me. I’m probably double the size of the boy she remembers.
“That’s yet to be determined.” Her eyes drop from mine in favour of my body. She bites down on her bottom lip as they take me in. It’s clear she’s happy with this change at least.
Leaning my hip against the counter, I wait with a smirk playing on my lips while she takes her fill.
She stills the second she realises what’s she’s doing. When she finds the amusement covering my face, her eyes narrow and her lips press into a thin line. “Don’t think about getting any crazy ideas.” Stepping up to me, she pokes me in the chest. If it’s meant to hurt, she needs to think again.
Wrapping my hand around her delicate one, I pull her against me and put my lips to her ear.
“I’m not getting any ideas, Lauren. I never forgot them.”
She gasps and fights to get away from me. I’ll allow her to take the space she needs.
For now.
Chapter Six
I hardly get a wink of sleep. Knowing she’s just over the corridor is torture. My constant stream of thoughts wondering if she was in her own bed thinking about me and what we once had kept my dick rock-hard all night. It didn’t seem to care how many times I came with thoughts of her in my head. The second I allowed my mind to drift once again, up it popped.
I’d like to think I’d become fairly skilled at keeping thoughts of her at bay, focusing on other aspects of my life and trying to distract myself with other women, but one look at her, and just like six years ago in the kitchen, she’s the only thing I can see. The only thing I want.
My eyelids are heavy with exhaustion when I eventually get up the next morning. The house is silent, so even though it’s long past what most people would call early, I open the curtains and windows in the hope of brightening the place up a little, then kick-start the coffee machine. It’s not the one I remember, so it takes me a few minutes to figure out how it works, but soon the scent of the beans fills the room and I already start to feel a little more alert.
With my steaming mug in hand, I slide open the doors that cover the entire back wall of the house and step out into the morning sun. It’s not quite the fresh sea air that I’ve become used to, but it’s not city smog either.
Falling down onto the swing seat, I rest my head back and try to enjoy the peace and quiet. It doesn’t work; my mind still runs at a mile a minute with images of Lauren. I’m desperate to take her pain away, to make all of this better for her. But I know that’s not possible.
Holding her to me last night felt so incredible, but I’m not stupid enough to think she’s going to allow that to happen again anytime soon. She’s had years to build up her walls when it comes to me, and I’m going to have one hell of a fight on my hands to knock them down.
She thinks I betrayed the one promise I made to her by leaving. I told her I’d always protect her, and that was exactly what I was doing. Protecting her from the knowledge of who her dad really was. Protecting their relationship. That was the most important thing to me at the time.
“Why are you here, Ben?” The sound of her soft, sweet voice has my heart pounding and picks my head up from where it was resting. I didn’t hear her join me, but when I look over, she’s stood in the doorway staring down the garden.
I allow myself a moment to take her in. Her blonde hair is in a mess and piled on top of her head. Her face is fresh and clear of make-up, although when she turns I know I’ll see pain and sadness in her eyes. She’s wearing that damn man’s hoodie she had on last night and what I assume is a tiny pair of pyjama shorts just poking out the bottom, leaving her mile-long, tanned legs on full display.
Shifting to a slightly more comfortable position, I clear my throat and try to remember what her question was.
She must get bored of waiting, because after a few seconds, she turns her stare on me, her hands coming up to rest on her hips. Her attempt at attitude makes me want to laugh, but the hardness of her features stops me.
Widening her eyes, she continues to impatiently wait while I battle with what to say.
None of my answers are going to go down very well.
