I'll Take You Away From Him

Chapter 16

When we arrive at Will's place and I see my reflection in the mirror in the hallway, I realize that I really need a bath or a shower. I'm dirty, covered in blood, even my head is smeared, and my face is flushed while my eyes are swollen from tears.

“What are you standing there for?” Will nudge me. “Come on, water will fix everything. The main thing is that you got away with just a little scare, your shoulder will heal.”

Yes, he's right. Taking off my shoes, I look at my scraped knees. There are scratches on my arms too. I'm all torn and rumpled, and I don't feel any better. I obediently head to the bathroom but decide to just take a shower.

Then I found out that my dress is hopelessly ruined. Besides the pajamas I left in the room assigned to me, I have nothing else.

I can't just go home looking like that! And I don’t have any money to order a new one either.

I’ll think about that later; right now, it's the shower. I don’t linger long because I feel weak. I also try not to wet my shoulder, but water gets on it anyway. After washing up hastily, I step out of the shower and slip into the room.

I freeze in surprise when I see Will there, already changed into home clothes. A wave of sensations washes over me again. I feel an endless gratitude and amazement at how he's a real man.

Not only he saved me but understood that something was wrong. And he's also very handsome.

Noticing me, Will scans me from head to toe with a gaze that makes me feel flustered. I awkwardly shift from foot to foot when he pats the couch next to him.

“Sit down, we need to treat your wounds, I've noticed a few more scratches. Not deep, but still worth disinfecting. And you've soaked your shoulder.”

Nodding, I approach him and sit down beside. While Will treats my wounds with a focused expression on his face, starting with my shoulder and replacing the wet bandage, I endure silently.

I try to concentrate on the unpleasant sensations, on the sting, the prickling, but it doesn't work at all. The accidental touches of his fingers, the breath I feel on my skin, his gaze, which, although it doesn't have any subtext, is still focused on me — that is what comes to the forefront.

Everything else loses significance, fades somewhere to the back of my mind.

“Looks like that's it,” Will announces when he's done.

I turn sharply to him, and he happens to turn away, gathering the first aid kit with used cotton. I greedily examine his profile, feeling a surge of emotions building up inside me.

I never thought one could fall in love like this — literally at first sight and head over heels. I clearly understand now that I've fallen for William. Fully and hopelessly.

And his last action, his care, everything about him only reinforces the feeling I initially thought was just infatuation. But it's not infatuation, I'm not prone to that and never felt anything like it.

This is love.

“Will,” I whisper barely audibly and when our eyes meet, he fully turns to me. “Thank you. For everything. And — I…” I draw it out, momentarily flustered.

Biting my lip, I mustered the courage and then quickly leaned in to kiss him first. I still feel shy but try not to show it, to be confident and decisive. And it’s not about the kiss at all. It’s about the fact that I don't intend to let him go, I don’t want to.

I want everything to happen today.

Will reacts instantly, embracing me gently, taking the initiative and invading my mouth with a deep kiss. The intensity and eagerness with which he does it makes me bolder. I pulled the towel as unnoticed as I could and allowed it to fall.

Then, slowly slipping my hand under his T-shirt, tracing his bare skin with my trembling fingers.

“What are you doing?” he breathes into my lips, breaking the kiss. His gaze ignites as it glides over my exposed body and then Will grips the edges of the towel, trying to cover me with it.

“No,” I decisively stopped him. And, feeling hesitant, I ask, “Don't you like me? Aren’t we… kind of dating?”

“I like you very much. But I don't want to rush you, Goldie,” he smiles gently, brushing my face with his fingers. “I'm not a teenager to pull you into bed on the second date. My self-control is perfectly fine, I’m able to wait.”

“Why?” I ask in surprise. And then immediately bite my tongue because I'm acting frivolously! It’s me who is burning with feelings, sensations, emotions. And he’s just feeling fondness.

But the question has already slipped out, and I hear his genuine laughter for the first time. And even that makes me want him more: how he laughs, how his face changes, the web of fine laugh lines around his eyes, how his lips stretch, which I now want to touch even more.

Catching my flustered gaze, Will stops laughing. He suddenly becomes very serious and suddenly asks:

“Do you want me?”

I'm not used to talking about such matters. Especially to say something like that directly to a man, even though I feel an overwhelming attraction to him. Out of discomfort, I don't know where to look, and oddly enough, my heart sinks.

He simply doesn't want to? What other reason are these questions? Doesn't he feel that I want him?

“Sorry, I think I better go,” I stammer and attempt to slide off his lap.

“Where to?” he asks in surprise, pulling me back. “Now, what have you imagined?” He hugs me from the back, pressing my body to his chest. “I just don’t want you to do something foolish in the heat of the moment and then regret it. Come on, don’t sulk, Goldie. “

“If we’re dating, isn’t everything leading up to this anyway?”

“It is, but everything has its time. Are you in a hurry somewhere?”

Something in his words blooms irritation within me. But I try to suppress it. Overall, Will is right, but what am I supposed to do with my desire, my attraction to him?

“Is this some sort of test?” it suddenly hits me.

“You could say that. I don’t want it to look like I took advantage of you. Do you understand? Let’s promise to talk about it in at least a week, okay?”

“Or do,” I clarify. “What will change in a week? How will it not look like you took advantage of me then?” I ask, almost calmed down and accepting the man’s position.

“Well, first of all, I’ll make sure your desire isn’t born out of the stress you’ve just experienced. Secondly, we’ll have time to get to know each other a bit better and you won’t feel awkward just kissing me,” he smiles, and suddenly I understand why he didn’t want me.

He’s a mature, experienced man. Of course, he understands that I’m shy, and he wants open and uninhibited behavior from a woman.

“And what about the third?” I ask.

“The third?”

“Well, you named two reasons. But there’s got to be a third one. I felt it in your tone.”

“Smart girl, but I don’t think you should know,” he frowns. He ponders for a few seconds, then unexpectedly continues, giving me a scrutinizing look, “Or rather the opposite. If this doesn’t put you off, maybe I have a chance to count on something more.”

“What exactly?” I ask warily, no longer sure I want to hear this, whatever it may be.

“I have a fiancée. We had a fight, but I haven’t ended the engagement yet. I’ll do that next week and finally put everything in its place, and then I won’t feel like a jerk dragging you into bed. If you still want that.”