The Unexpected Way of Falling in Love

  I don’t even know why I sent her that photo. Well, maybe I do. I wanted her to see how I saw her, how other people see her. She deserved that. I just hope I didn’t freak her out. And I hope she doesn’t tell anyone because, if my father found out, he would flip

  Just like he did the day I told him I didn’t want to work for his company.

  After I told him, he took my crayons away and broke them into pieces.

  “You’re going to take over my company, and you’re going to be grateful.” He threw the pieces of crayons in the trash, and I did my best not to burst into tears, knowing he’d get mad if I did. “You’re my only son, Carter, and as my only son, it’s your responsibility to carry on what I’ve worked so hard to create. It’s in your blood. And you’re the only person I can trust to learn what I do.”

  I didn’t want to do what he did, mostly because the guys he worked with were scary. Some even carried guns.

  I started to open my mouth to protest, but he struck me so hard my ears rang. Then he grabbed a knife from his collection displayed on the wall, snatched ahold of my hand, and cut my palm open.

  I wanted to scream, but the look he gave me kept my quivering lips sealed.

  “That’ll leave a scar. Every time you think about arguing with me, look at that scar and remember what happens.” Then he turned and walked toward the door. “Tomorrow, I’m going to start teaching you about the business that you’re going to start officially working for the moment you graduate.”

  He made good on his threat, too, and I was too frightened to argue with him.

  But I don’t think I realized how fucking truly terrifying my father was until the day I overheard him put a hit on a man. I don’t know the full story. All I know is that a massive dude showed up at my house, and him and my father went into the office. They left the door open, and as I was passing by, I heard my father say, “Then put him in the ground.”

  He said it with such a casualness that I doubted that was the first time he’d uttered those words.

  I had covered my mouth and started to back away when he spotted me. His eyes flared with rage, and I ran, taking shelter in the attic. He found me within an hour.

  Let’s just say, I had another scar to add to my collection.

  I still don’t know who he put in the ground, or if he really meant the words how I interpreted them. And not knowing drives me crazy every single day.

  I tried to tell my mom once, but she shut the conversation down ASAP.

  “What your father does is none of our business,” she snapped. “Now go to your room before I tell your father what you’re up to.”

  And that was that.

  After that, I stopped arguing up until I turned sixteen and brought the idea up of maybe working for him and for someone else, as well. That’s when he did something worse than hit me.

  He threatened my life.

  “You won’t walk away from this, from all the hard work I’ve invested in training you,” he warned in a low tone. “If you try, I’ll end you. Got it?”

  In that moment, I hated him. I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just let me walk away. Why it matters so much that I take over his company. I’m still wondering, but I’ve stopped caring about the consequences. I want out.

  That’s the thing about working for Gregor. He’s offered me protection on top of giving me one of his clubs. He has the best bodyguards in town. The best security. Money. Wealth. Power.

  I know some people say that none of that means anything, but when you’re in need of some serious protection, it does.

  So, yeah, that’s why I’m doing this.

  That’s why I need to keep doing this.

  I tear my thoughts away from the painful memories and focus on the present. The present is important. The present is going to get me away from my father’s future for me.

  “Well, if you’re not going to tell me, then”—I step away from Ens, both relieved from the space and hating it—“see you at the bottom.” Then I turn, run to the edge of the cliff, and jump, holding my breath.

  The fall lasts only for a second, yet somehow, it feels like an eternity, my lungs about to burst.

  I crash into the water, and when I resurface, the air comes rushing back to me.

  Twenty

  Ensley

  I stare over the edge of the cliff, wrapping my arms around myself. I can’t believe I agreed to this. What the heck was I thinking?

  “Stop overthinking it!” Carter shouts from somewhere below me. I honestly can’t tell where since I can’t see a damn thing. “You’re psyching yourself out.”

  My heart thunders in my chest. “I can’t see anything. What if I hit the rocks?”

  “You won’t.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Trust me.”

  I inch closer to the ledge. “Trust you? I barely know you.”

  “Aw, Ens, I thought we talked about this already.” His tone is all playful. Well, mostly playful, with a hint of edginess. “We’ve known each other for a decade.”

  “But we don’t know a lot about each other.”

  “We know enough.” He drags out a pause. “I know you love to read, that you hate wearing dresses, that talking to people freaks you out, but that you’re actually a great talker. I feel sorry for everyone who hasn’t gotten to experience the awesome conversationalist known as Ens the badass.”

  A laugh slips past my lips.

  “You like weird things, like steampunk and Alice in Wonderland. So much so that you sometimes wish you lived there,” he continues. “You hate the color pink, and think stuffing is the grossest food that’s ever existed. You love rock music, especially the classics, and you hate pop songs—they drive you nuts. Your mom is the most important person in the world to you, and El is your BFFFB; has been since third grade when she knocked my dumbass down on the ground because I was being a dumbass and deserved it.”

  I roll my tongue in my mouth, unsure of what to say. “Alice in Wonderland and steampunk aren’t weird. Everything else is just too normal.”

  “I completely agree with you.” His voice echoes around me.

  I peer over the edge again, wishing I could see him. “How did you know all of that? Did El tell you?”

  “She told me a few things,” he admits. “While some things are just from observing you. And some are from our secret conversation that you can’t remember that’s not such a secret anymore.”

  Gah! The cursed conversation I can’t remember. Why does it always come back to that!

  Then I rewind through what he said, my mind wandering elsewhere.

  “You observe me?” My voice is quiet, but it echoes against the stillness around us. “Like, when you took the photo?”

  He doesn’t answer right away. “I might watch you from a distance sometimes … It’s not as creepy as it sounds.”

  “Sounds kind of creepy to me.” About as creepy as my obsession with staring at him. “Well, if you did it more than once or twice. If it was only once, we can chock it up to you losing your mind for a split second.”

  Like I did when he took off his shirt.

  But, wow, oh wow, I couldn’t help it. I mean, sure, I’ve seen him shirtless when he’s swimming in his pool or just walking around in his pajama bottoms, but the experience is different when it’s just the two of us. Plus, he did that sexy thing where he dragged his hand down his chest to undo the button of his jeans …

  The crushy girl inside me was going wild. Good thing she doesn’t have complete control over my body, or I might have tried to touch him.

  “I guess I’m a creeper, then,” he jokes in an amused tone. “Because I may have done it more than once or twice.”

  “Yeah, you are. I better leave.” I turn on my heels, pretending to go. Well, mostly pretending. Part of me does want to run back to the car to avoid jumping off the ledge.

  “Hey, don’t leave me down here all by myself!” he shouts through a laugh. “I’m scared. It’s really creepy d
own here. I think a sea monster just brushed up against my leg.”

  I giggle, turning back around. “A sea monster? Really? That’s the best you can come up with? Where’s your sense of imagination?”

  “I’m not sure I have a very good imagination. Maybe you should help me out.”

  “Fine, how about this? Hundreds and hundreds of mermaids are in that lake with you right now.”

  “Mermaids don’t sound so bad. And they can be kind of hot.”

  “Not these ones. These ones have fangs and slime for skin, and their scales ooze pus.”

  He makes a gagging sound. “Gross.”

  I grin. “They also have claws. Yellow ones from all the fungus living on their skin. And when they eat you—which they will, because their favorite dessert is hot guys who jump into a lake at night by themselves—you’ll stay alive in their belly for decades, living off the pus that fills their insides.”

  “You’re so morbid,” he says through a gag. “And now I’m really creeped out.”

  “Enough to get out of the lake?”

  “Nope. But enough to never ask you what mermaids look like ever again. You’re seriously a little weirdo.”

  Dammit, I thought maybe scaring him would get me out of this.

  “Come on, Ens, just get it over with,” he tries to encourage. “And then we’ll do something fun.”

  I don’t want to do it. At all. Yet, I find myself inching closer to the edge.

  “If mermaids try to eat me, you’ll stop them, right?” I ask, closing my eyes.

  “Of course. I’ll offer myself as a sacrifice.”

  “Okay. Good.”

  He laughs. “Glad you don’t sound too upset about the fact that I just basically said I’d die for you.”

  “You wouldn’t die. You’d just be living in a pus-filled stomach.”

  “Which is worse than death.”

  “True.”

  The air grows quiet around me, a warm breeze kissing my exposed skin. I feel so vulnerable at the moment, standing on a ledge, wearing nothing but a plaid shirt and my bra and underwear, with Carter down below me, either playing a game with me or flirting. Both seem equally terrifying.

  I want to run. I want to chicken out. But I find myself bending my knees.

  If you asked me in this moment why I decided to do it, I couldn’t tell you. Perhaps it’s because I know the date won’t continue unless I do. That the plan won’t continue. Or maybe it’s that Carter is down there and somehow my crush has become more than just a crush.

  Or maybe I’m just having my very first live-in-the-moment experience.

  Whatever the reason, I take a deep breath and jump.

  Then I fall and fall and fall.

  Okay, maybe I just fall. Because, by the time I actually realize I’m falling, I’m already landing in the water. Or, well, landing in Carter’s arms, since the second I sink under, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me up.

  Once I break the surface, I gasp for air, my gaze moving to the cliff that I just jumped from. The pitch-black night makes it nearly impossible to see, but the headlights shining above, along with the moonlight and stars, offer a speck of light.

  “Holy shit, that was intense,” I breathe, my eyes wide as I clutch his bare shoulders.

  “But not as bad as you thought, right?” His mouth is so close to my ear that his breath warms my skin.

  This time, I can’t help shivering. Fortunately, I’m already shivering enough from the cold water that I doubt he notices.

  “That all depends.” Crap, I sound too breathless.

  “On what?” His mouth is now so close to my ear that his lips brush my skin.

  I swallow hard. “On if mermaids try to eat us.”

  He chuckles. “I already told you that, if that happened, I’d sacrifice myself to save you.”

  “You think that’d work?” I aim for a light tone, but epically fail. “That they’d take you over me?”

  “If they were female mermaids, they would.” His fingers wander to the collar of my shirt, and then he pulls the wet fabric away from my skin, exposing my collarbone to the warm night air.

  I know I should move away. After knowing Carter for a decade, I understand how charming and seductive he can be when he wants to be. A lot of times, he doesn’t even have to try that hard. I’ve seen him pull some moves out before.

  I should pull away. Stop him. This is too far …

  Then his lips graze the side of my neck and all my protests go peace out, bitches! as my eyes roll into the back of my head.

  Feeling as though I’m about to fall back into the water and sink, I clutch on tighter to his shoulders, my fingernails scratching his skin.

  He groans.

  I start to pull away. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I was hurting you.”

  “You’re not,” he says, his voice hoarse. Then he brushes his lips across the side of my neck again and whispers, “Put your hands back on me, Ens.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling as awkward as … well, me. Still, I place my hands back on his shoulders, loathing how my fingers tremble.

  He kisses my neck again and again, then starts gently sucking on my skin. In the back of my mind, warning flags go off, warning me that I shouldn’t be doing this. That this is only a game and I don’t even know what his real intentions are. That I shouldn’t be letting him kiss me like this when I’ve never been kissed before. That he doesn’t deserve to get my first kiss.

  However, as he makes a delicate path up the side of my neck and along my jawline, I somehow stop thinking altogether. All I can focus on is the softness of his lips, the way his stubble lightly rubs against my skin, the feel of his hands as he places them on my sides, the way my heart pulsates.

  When he reaches my lips, he pauses, as if giving me time to back out. I should. I really, really should, but haziness has possessed my brain, as if I’m drunk and stoned, buzzed out of my mind. Part of me wishes I was. At least then I’d have an excuse for why I stay motionless.

  The sound of my ragged breaths fills the air as he leans in and seals his lips to mine. He doesn’t try to shove his tongue into my mouth, instead just letting his lips linger. And I swear I hear him whisper something along the lines of, “I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.” But maybe I heard him wrong.

  I inhale shakily through my nose, worried he can tell how nervous I am.

  “You want me to stop?” he whispers against my lips.

  “No.” My response is so automatic, making me wonder just how much I want this.

  I blame my reaction on the version of Carter I’ve seen tonight and for the last few days. He’s been different, at least to me. This isn’t the Carter I was supposed to be screwing over. Truthfully, I’m not even sure if I am screwing him over anymore, which gives him all the power to screw me over. And while I don’t know whether he’s being genuine, that falling sensation consumes me again and all I can do is grip on to him and pretend that this is all real.

  “Good,” Carter says, and then crushes his lips against mine.

  This time he really kisses me, slipping his tongue into my mouth. Our tongues tangle as he slides his hands up my waist, inching upward until he reaches the bottom of my breast. He doesn’t cop a feel, letting his fingers wander from side to side. When I shiver, he kisses me deeper.

  He tastes like mint, and his tongue is so warm. The combination makes me feel as if I’m melting. How that’s possible when I’m in the middle of a chilly lake is beyond me. But I embrace the sensation, trying my best to kiss him back and hoping to God he doesn’t notice I’m a virgin kisser. I’m sure he does, though, by my uncertainty, by the way my body trembles.

  Seriously, I need to get a grip on myself. But the longer we kiss, the more I lose control over my body. Somehow, my legs end up wrapped around his waist, and my fingers tangle in his hair as I grind against him. He groans, sliding his hand down to my ass and holding me up. Then he grinds against me, too.

  I lightly tug on his
hair, and he moans again. The sound makes my heart skip a beat, and I start to grow concerned the damn thing is going to stop beating altogether.

  Is this what all first kisses are like? Does everyone lose control of their body and mind? Do they worry their hearts are going to give out? Do they feel like they’re losing control over everything, but they don’t care?

  After what feels like hours, yet still not enough time, Carter finally breaks the kiss. He doesn’t move back, though, simply resting his forehead against mine. His breath dusts against my lips as he holds me while keeping us afloat.

  He remains silent for so long I begin to grow self-conscious.

  Finally, he shatters the silence.

  “We should probably get going,” he whispers.

  That’s it. That’s all he says. Then he starts paddling toward the shore while holding my hand.

  And suddenly, that falling sensation alters into a sinking sensation.

  The sinking sensation that I may have just screwed myself—well, my heart—over big time.

  Twenty-One

  Ensley

  After we climb out of the water, we hike up a short path to the top of the cliffs where the car is parked. My lips are swollen from the kissing, my chin burns a little from where his scruffy jaw rubbed against my skin, and my mind is a cloudy mess, crammed with questions about what just happened.

  By the time we reach the car, my mind is a muddy clusterfuck of a mess—metaphorically, of course—and my feet are a muddy mess—literally. Carter gets a towel out from his trunk so I can clean off my feet and dry off. Apparently, he came prepared for a midnight swim.

  I want to crack a joke about him being so sure I was going to jump, that I was going to trust him, but it seems silly when I actually did it. Besides, he’s barely uttered two words to me since we kissed.

  I feel stupid for letting him kiss me at all. Plus, I’m hurt, like third grade all over again kind of hurt. Which probably means this is no longer a game to me. Honestly, I question if it ever was.

  “You’re being really quiet,” Carter says as he slips his shirt back on.