Helplessly in Love: A Taylor Lautner Love Story

Chapter Twenty-Six - The Dark

Hey guys! I'm actually on time with this!

Hope you enjoy ;)

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“Stop it!” I squealed, thrashing my legs back and forth in the air. It doesn’t matter what I did, it won’t stand against the brute force of Taylor Lautner. He continued to tickle me because I had splashed water all over his clothes…it’s a long story. We’d been at the beach for about an hour, and I just wanted to play in the water a bit. Well, it started out that way, at least.

“Maybe I’ll just give you a big bear hug…” he suggested, laughing hard.

“No!” I cried, trying to squirm away. But as expected, he wrapped his strong arms around me, hugging me tightly to his wet body. But I didn’t mind that at all, because as he held me, he reminded me of how I was the luckiest girl in the world. That feeling in itself is enough for me not to get mad at him for getting me all wet. After I was quiet for a while, he pulled back, eyes wide.

“Are you alright?” he asked, frantically stroking my face with wet hands.

“Yes,” I replied, staring into his deep brown eyes. He propped himself on one elbow and continued to glance worriedly at me.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked quietly.

“I’m just trying to figure out how I became so lucky,” I replied quietly, sitting up and pulling my knees to my chest.

He sat up then, positioning himself to where he was in every line of vision I had. As if I needed assistance with that.

“I’m the lucky one,” he said solemnly, then gently pressed his lips against mine, stoking my hair after.

“You mean that?” I asked in a quiet voice.

He pulled back and scoffed. “Yes! Why would you think any differently?”

I looked down, suddenly embarrassed. I shook my head.

“Rachel,” he said, lifting my head with one finger. I couldn’t help but meet his compelling gaze and get lost in the warmth of his brown eyes. “Talk to me,” he pressed. After a while of battling internally, I gave in and told him what’s been on my mind lately.

“I can’t help but not to be worried,” I admitted. “About us.”

His expression told me how appalled he was at that, but he stayed silent, letting me finish. “I mean, it makes no sense for you to care for me when there’s millions of girls out there that might make you happier than I do. There’s so many girls that are prettier than me, taller, smarter, skinnier, everything that someone like you is supposed to have. I can’t help feeling insecure,” I said, my voice breaking. I looked down again, ashamed. I couldn’t make myself look at him.

He surprised me by sounding angry. “Rachel, that is the worst thing you’ve ever said to me,” he said. I continued to look down. “Rachel, I’m never going to find another girl any more perfect for me than you are. I can’t explain how happy I am to see you, or hear your voice, or just watch you smile. It makes me so anxious when we’re apart, not to be able to hold you in my arms. That week in New York was the worst for me. Because I couldn’t be with you.”

I looked back up a little bit, to see him looking intensely at me, emotion pouring out of his eyes and filling my heart.

“And as for every other girl out there, they don’t matter to me anymore; I couldn’t care less about them. You’re the only one that I care about. I care for you more than you’ll ever know.”