“You have complaints, baby? You can voice them, but there’s no guarantee I’ll take them into account.”
My lips part and I can feel my heart crawling up to my mouth and spilling on the ground at his feet.
His smile falters. “What’s wrong?”
“You just called me baby.”
“Oh. It—”
“Don’t say it was a mistake.”
“It wasn’t. I want to call you that sometimes.”
I clutch him by a fistful of his jacket and drag him against me. “I need to kiss you—”
The words aren’t fully out of my mouth when he seals his lips to mine and sears himself in my fucking heart with the most passionate kiss. He kisses me with yearning, longing, and emotions he’s still hesitating to admit.
He kisses me like he will never let go of me.
Like he’ll burn for me as hot as I burn for him.
I want this moment to last forever, please and fucking thank you.
35
NIKOLAI
I never thought I’d say this, but I think I’m actually going through an intensive sugar coma.
Over the past two days, Bran has been taking me to all these Italian, French, and Chinatown bakeries that I came out of with an armful of goodies that I consumed behind his back. While he’s fine with me buying pastries, he believes in an annoying concept called portioning.
Sugar’s worst enemy ever.
Anyway, I still have to finish these sickly-sweet cream buns and then I can go comatose in peace.
Unfortunately for me, we have to leave tomorrow. While Bran could stay longer and work on his project from here, I’ve missed two tests and I’m risking my grade drastically falling. And while I couldn’t care less about that, I don’t want to seem irresponsible in front of his parents.
Not to mention my own parents, who keep asking why the fuck I’m not attending school. I kind of told Dad about him, but I still didn’t mention he’s Landon’s twin. I’d rather he meet him directly instead of getting the idea that he’s like his psycho brother.
Astrid will definitely miss me, as she told me this morning. We formed a bond, and I’m telling you, that amazing woman will be my mother-in-law one day. My future father-in-law, however, likes to play hard to get. Now I know where his son got the trait from. But I think even his grumpy self will miss me.
Bran had no chance with me and neither will he.
Since Astrid and I are basically best friends now, I tried probing to find out if she knew about Bran’s cuts, but I don’t think so. Again, they’re really great parents, so I doubt they would’ve left him to his own devices if they’d discovered his nasty habits.
It makes sense that they haven’t. He wears a watch at all times and the most annoying part is that he has steel control over which emotions he shows. When I first got to know him, I often thought he was ice-cold, when, in fact, he was just exceptionally good at sealing everything inside.
I can tell that even his parents struggle to get him to open up. Hell, the only reason I found out about the cuts was through a coincidence, and after I drove him into a panic attack.
His mom and dad definitely do not like to push him. Which might not be the best strategy to deal with someone as closed off and inward-oriented as my lotus flower.
But that’s fine. I can be the villain and push him. I have to, because I’ve been reading about people who cut themselves and the mental ramifications, and it’s never a good idea to leave them alone.
It doesn’t get better as he likes to say. It’s not an addiction that he can withdraw from without addressing the reason he does it in the first place.
The general consensus in the forums full of people who cut themselves is that they need to purge the pain. One guy said that when he sees the blood pour out of him, he can finally exhale a breath of relief.
My stomach twisted at that image because I could picture Bran doing the same. In that damned closed bathroom. Battling against his demons and bleeding out.
Fucking alone.
That won’t be happening anymore.
As soon as we go back to the island, we have to address the mental cancer that’s eating at his head.
His presence stopped me from going on suicidal missions, so I refuse to let him self-destruct.
Maybe it’s because I’m more attuned to him than should be healthy, but he hasn’t been himself today. It started this morning, but after we went out, he relaxed for a bit. However, he became uptight during dinner.
Minimum words. Monosyllabic replies. A noticeable absence of the usual joking around with his dad. The worst part is that he kept his distance from me—something he hasn’t done over the course of the period I’ve spent at his childhood home.