A/N--So I am extremely sorry as to how long it took to get this chapter out. I had a ton of sorority stuff going on for rush, but it's now all settled down so I should be able to work on this a bit more :) Anyways...this chapter's a bit lovey dovey and whatnot, but hey...it's a romance story. There will be some drama in the next chapter, so just look at this as a leadup! And you'll get to learn more about Mr. Ethan Crest, and well...that's always fun! :)
So anyways...please vote/comment/and fan. I'd really like to know what y'all all are thinking of this story. Love you guys!
"My family...growing up...well, it was kind of messed up. Really messed up, actually. My mom got pregnant with me when she was fifteen, and when my grandparents found out they disowned her. Getting rid of me was never an option to them, my mom could never do that and she was too strong-willed to have my dad talk her into it. So her and my dad moved in with his family, and there they had me. But the fact that my dad did try to talk her into aborting me was always an issue and they ended up having a real messed up break up when I was one or so. My mom didn't have anyone to turn to, seeing as how my grandparents couldn't even look at her-the fuckers-so we were homeless for a while, just bunking with her friends from work until she got a stable enough job.
"To this day I still remember the shitty apartment we lived in. There was the peeling floral paint in the den, and this big stain on the kitchen floor from where someone had dropped a hot pot or something. My mom always complained about the shower not being hot enough, and I slept in the den since there was only bedroom. But even though it was so shitty, I still miss that place like hell, you know? It's the only place I've ever considered as home."
I swallow back this big lump of an overwhelming urge to just cry, to just fold myself into his chest and hold him until the world ends. I've never seen Ethan express this kind of emotion, look like he's just a few steps away from crying. To me, he's always been this safety net. The rock. He's always so stable and secure, and to just...to see him looking like this is almost heartbreaking.
His fingers slipping just a fraction of an inch up my shirt so that he can rub the warm skin of my waist, he continues, "My mom and I were so happy in that apartment. It was shitty and it was a dive, but we were never truly sad there. I still remember us dancing around the kitchen, listening to Tim McGraw or something, and baking brownies or coloring in a dinosaur coloring book. And it pissed my dad off. He hated that we were okay without him, and he hated that my mom didn't need him anymore. One day he actually came over-he always harassed her on the phone but had never actually come to the house-and they got into this big fight. He ended up hitting her and she was yelling about calling the police and it just..." He stops talking. He looks away from me, as if he just cannot keep talking about this anymore.
Tears pooling in my eyes at how much this is affecting him, about how much this is affecting me, I scoot forward on his lap and cup his face into my hands, tugging just a bit so that he'll look back at me. When he does, I see that the outline of his eyes are turning red and that he has his jaw clenched so tight that it's almost scary. "Hey," I say softly, wanting to calm him down. When I'd asked him about his past, I had no idea that it would be something like this. I just thought that maybe he'd experimented with drugs or was a bully or something. I had no idea it would be something like this. "You don't have to finish telling me if you don't want to. I don't want to pressure you, I just..."
He shakes his head, his fingers falling from my waist so that he can reach up and place his hands over mine. He says, "No...I want to tell you. I just...I've never really told anyone the whole story before."
Feeling extremely touched and warm that I'm the first person he's confessed this to, I lean forward and peck him on the lips. "Well I'm definitely here to listen."
His lips tug upward in a very brief smile, but still a smile nonetheless. He then goes quiet for a moment, preparing himself to finish the story. And then he opens his mouth and continues, "After that fight, my mom went out drinking with a friend from work. She was stressed and upset and just needed a night of fun. She ended up...she...she was in a car accident. Her friend was drunk when they drove back from the bar and...she ended up wrapping the car around a tree. She survived, but my mom...my mom didn't. I was eleven when I had to move in with my dad. He wasn't a parent to me. He was an absolute wreck when my mom died, always blamed himself. He was just so...so fucking angry all of the time, you know? And I was the only one..."
It's then that I get where this story is going. Where it's been going since he started talking. I made a guess a while back, a very dramatic guess definitely, but it turns out that it was true. Ethan was abused as a child. He really was. My beautiful golden boy boyfriend had to endure abuse from his father after he had just lost his mother. He had to go through something that I would not wish on my worst enemy.
I feel a big, fat tear escape from the confines of my eye, it slowly trailing down my cheek, leaving a cold trail in its wake. I know that this is not the time to cry, that I need to be strong and be there for Ethan and tell him all of these encouraging things to help him. But right now, I'm just too heartbroken over the fact that he even had to go through such a hard childhood. That he had to be beaten by his father.
Ethan doesn't continue on with his story, he just tightens his arms around my waist and says, "But I'm fine now, Hallie. My life is so good right now, I don't even think about it anymore."
I shake my head, feeling so completely terrible with myself. I say, "Don't comfort me, Ethan...I'm not the one who needs it."
"Then you crying was just a figment of my imagination?" he teases lightly, probably trying to put a lighter tone on the whole conversation. What I really don't understand, though, is how he can. How can he be so nonchalant right now? How can he act like he wasn't beaten as a kid?
"How can you...how can you even...?" I just don't understand how he isn't so torn up about this. I mean, when he was talking about his mom's death he was almost in tears. But now...now he's trying to make a joke to make me feel better about his dad beating him?
It's all so fucked up.
"Baby," he says softly, placing his hands on the sides of my face and gently rubbing the smooth skin of my cheek with his rough fingertips. "It's over and done with...I've had enough time to cope. Sure I hate my dad and never plan on speaking to him, but my life is really good right now. I don't want to spend the good times I have still hung up on my past."
Biting down on my lower lip to keep from crying, I reach up and run my thumb underneath his lip, not really knowing what to say or how to react. He's so mature, so wholly good that I'm not sure how to speak to him right now. He always knows exactly what to say, how to react, how to make me feel better. He's so good to me that I just don't understand how he finds me good enough to be with like this. How can he treat me so well when I'm nowhere near as amazing as he is?
So even though my self-respect has been shot a bit, seeing as how I know I wouldn't handle such a situation so well like he does, I just tell my gorgeous boyfriend wholeheartedly, "You're an amazing person, Ethan Crest."
He smiles at his, before leaning in and caressing my lips with his own, a sweet and tender kiss that we both definitely needed. When he pulls away from me, he rests his forehead against mine and says, "I'm really not. But I'm glad you think..."
"PDA infraction!" my dad barks, the sudden oncoming of his loud voice into the quietness of the room startling the shit out of me. I literally jump in Ethan's lap in surprise, embarrassing myself and probably Ethan as well.
"Shit," I curse underneath my breath, reluctantly tearing myself away from Ethan's comfortable-as-can-be body and standing to face my dad. He's standing in the doorway, his arms tense across his chest, but from the twinkle in his eye and the fact that his face isn't red like it usually gets when he's mad, I know he's just teasing. Had Ethan and I been naked, then he probably would have unleashed total and absolute fury on us. But really, I was just sitting on his lap and we were talking closely. Nothing too terrible.
My little tick of a father just really enjoys pressing my buttons.
"Really, dad? Really?" I ask him sarcastically, crossing my arms over my chest to match his stance.
He says, "It's almost eleven o'clock, the two of you should be separated right about now."
"We were just talking!" I say loudly, "Nothing's wrong with that." And that talk, albeit extremely saddening, was a very good talk for us. Ethan is finally letting me in on his life outside of Nashville. He's finally showing me who was, not just who he is. And my dad, just wanting a laugh, had to come in here and ruin it all.
Jack ass.
My dad says, "Well, talking or no talking, I believe that it's time for the two of you to separate. So Ethan, it would be just lovely if you could march yourself right on out of here."
"Yes sir," Ethan says, and when I turn around to look at him I see that his eyes, while still rimmed in red, are exponentially brighter than they were when I first asked him to tell me about his life. So obviously this talked has not only made me feel much better about the relationship, but him as well.
But even though Ethan and I are much closer, I know that I'm not going to be able to sleep without a goodnight hug from him. I seriously need one after everything that has been told in this room tonight. "Just go dad, I'm going to tell Ethan goodnight whether you like it or not."
He quirks up one of his eyebrows, as if he's asking if I'm actually testing his authority. Usually I wouldn't be this bold with him, but for one I know he's joking and for two, I really just want to hug my boyfriend goodnight. So that's why I hold my ground and my bring-it-on face until my dad cracks and says, "Fine. You have three minutes."
And with that the big goober leaves.
"I seriously hate that guy," I say jokingly, shaking my head in the direction the door my dad just walked through.
He smirks, walking up to me and then threading his arms around my waist. Automatically I sink into him, just wanting to be held by him for a few seconds. I lay my head on his shoulder, my lips right at the crook of his neck, and listen to him as he says, "You're an extremely lucky girl Hallie Hinton, to have the family that you do."
I sigh, and I know that my breath on his skin has quite the reaction from him, judging by the way his arms tighten around me and he has to shift his hips a bit. Smiling to myself because I have such an effect on this guy, I say, "I know I am."
We're quiet after that, just a few seconds of comfortable and pensive silence, before he asks, "So do I get a goodnight kiss or what?"
I chuckle, absolutely loving that I'm not the only one who craves our tasty kisses. Peering up at him, I put my hand on his neck and then lead his lips onto my own, feeling my body warm immediately at the contact. We only kiss for a few seconds or so, seeing as how my dad is probably just down the hall with a timer in his right hand, and when we pull away I already feel the desperate need to just sink into him and kiss him until I'm breathless.
"You should totally sneak in my room later," I whisper boldly as I lean my forehead against his sturdy chest, not wanting him to have to leave me.
I feel his chest vibrate beneath my skin as he laughs before replying, "As much as I'd love to, I cannot afford to get kicked out of this house."
"Pleaaassseeee...." I whine pathetically, slipping a hand up his shirt so that I can feel the taut skin of his tummy.
I feel his muscles tense beneath my palm, a sure sign that this is affecting him. Thank God. The more I affect him, the more of a chance I'll have of him sneaking in here later.
"We'll see."
XXXXXXX
Looking at the screen of my phone as I casually thrum through a joke app on my phone, I see a particularly funny one and start giggling lightly to myself. I always mindlessly scroll through this when I can't sleep or when I just want to be a vegetable and not move. And now, since Ethan is dead asleep spooned up against me, his arm tightly wrapped around my waist, I don't want to move. We were lying in here together, him playing me some of the songs on his iPod that he's already recorded, and I guess we just both fell asleep.
We did have a late night last night. My dad had a charity event appearance yesterday, and wanted the entire family to go. Well, as it turns out this charity even came with an after party and Ethan and I really didn't want to leave. We ended up having a blast; getting a bit too tipsy with the open bar and then dancing the night away to the band that was playing.
So we were both pretty exhausted this morning, and I guess the effects of that are finally starting to show. But it's not like I'm complaining. I'm not complaining at all, actually. I love having him sleep right next to me, his warm breath steadily hitting the back of my neck. It's extremely soothing and it just feels...right. It feels good. Comfortable.
And just as the thought flashes through my mind, Ethan's arm tightens around me for a brief moment, and then loosens as his body begins to stir. "What's so funny?" he whispers as he gets into another, but just as blissfully comfortable, position behind me. His legs thread into my own, his arm having moved just a bit higher so that now it's tight right underneath my chest.
God, I love this.
"Nothing," I say, turning the phone off and then carefully letting it drop onto the carpet of Ethan's guest room. Wanting to jut melt into him, I lift his arm up and then turn underneath it so that I can actually look at his cute sleep-deprived face. "I'm sorry I woke you," I apologize, running one of my hands across his arm.
He smiles lazily at me, "I needed to wake up; I wouldn't have been able to sleep tonight had I not. And besides, we don't get to have many afternoons together where we don't have to worry about your parents."
This is very true. In the month that we've been together now, my parents have been a very frustrating aspect of our relationship. Sure I love my parents and all, but still...I want to be able to close a door and make out with my boyfriend every once in a while. It's extremely difficult having to wait until my parents make a grocery store run or something so that I can pounce on him, especially when he works out in the yard shirtless all of the time.
"Well..." I tease lightly, scooting in close to him and placing my hand on his chest. "They won't be home for..." I look over at the clock on his dresser across the room, "An hour and a half."
"Little miss Hallie Hinton," he says in a very transparent scolding tone as he slowly starts to maneuver himself on top of me, "Are you trying to seduce me?"
Feeling extremely breathless at his proximity and at the fact that the bedroom door is locked and that there is not a soul in this house other than mine and Ethan's, I reach up and twine my arms around his neck, pulling him in closer to me. "Is it working?" I ask him in what I hope is a sexy voice, but God only knows that I can't exactly pull of sexy.
"Very much so," he answers huskily, before moving in and crushing his lips against my own, wasting absolutely no time in letting the kiss get all hot and heavy.
My phone interrupts us about thirty minutes into it, his hands all the way up my shirt and caressing the skin in between my breasts, his shirt off and tossed onto the floor. My lips feel weighted down and tingly, my skin flushed and warm. We've never gone this far...hell, I've never gone that far with anyone in my life, and I am not going to lie. It was pretty fucking awesome.
I don't know what it is, but Ethan just has this way of making me feel so safe and secure as well as unimaginably turned on. It's the best combination in the world, and if he keeps it up, I have no doubts that he'll be receiving my V-card very, very soon. Because now that we've gone this far, I don't know if I'm going to be able to wait very long for the real thing. That's just too good not to do again and again.
Ethan groans at the sound of my ringtone, him collapsing on top of me as he buries his face into the crook of my neck. "Don't answer it please," he begs, his lips starting to caress the arch of my neck, his teeth nipping all of the right places.
"Okay," I breathe out hotly, my eyes immediately falling closed as his tongue and teeth work wonders on my skin. It's not long before we've gotten right back to where we started, his mouth expertly moving against my own and our hands wandering each other's bodies in a way we haven't before.
Finally having enough with the barrier of fabric between his hands and my skin, Ethan slowly brings up my shirt, me having to lean upwards towards him so that he can yank it off. He tosses it somewhere in the room, me not being bothered enough to look in that direction, and then brings his mouth down onto the groove of my collarbone.
My phone once again blares up as his mouth dips downwards, getting closer and closer to my breasts. "What the hell?" I gasp, wondering who on earth is calling me right now. I don't get phone calls. I just don't. My friends and I aren't really friends anymore, and my parents are at a business meeting.
Ethan's mouth stops for a second, him raising his head so that I can move just a bit and see who it is that's now called me twice. "I'm sorry," I whisper to him before moving my head to the side of the bed so I can see my phone where it's resting on the floor.
The screen's bright with the incoming call, and when I see Jesse's name on the screen I can't help but be confused. What the hell is he calling me for? He doesn't call me. Hell, we don't even talk to me anymore. The last time we talked was when he had his sister come and pick me up from the college campus.
So if he's called me twice now...it's got to be something important, right?
I reach down and swipe the phone up from the carpet, and then after sitting up and pulling the bed sheets over my legs, I press the green answer button. This better be good. "What, Jesse?"
"Well hello to you too," he answers a bit tightly, as if he's somewhat stressed out. And it only takes me a second or two to realize that he's not alone, that there's a ton of people making a chattering noise easily recognizable over the phone. So why call me now?
"Hi," I say quickly, amusing him for just a moment. "Now. Why are you calling me?"
"Hey!" he shouts, and I know that he's not talking to me. "Get back here, man....yeah, I'm talking to Hallie....well, I'm going to see alright? Now go sit your ass down on the barstool....no, don't order another one...fuck Fred, no! Just give me a goddamn second, would you?"
And it's then that I sort of get a feel for what's going on here. Fred is obviously plastered and it sounds like he's been asking for me. I know what Fred gets like when he's been drinking. When he has what he wants, he can be one of the most fun people on the planet. But when he doesn't...well, he can be very demanding and childish.
"Sorry," Jesse swiftly apologizes, "But look. Fred and I went out to play some pool, and he ended up having two too many shots, and he won't leave until he sees you. So can you please come pick him up?"
Feeling extremely torn, I sigh and then look on over at my boyfriend, hoping that maybe he'll be able to help me. When he meets my eyes, he asks me, "What's up?"
"Fred's drunk," I tell him, "And he won't leave the bar unless I go and get him."
Ethan shakes his head and curses underneath his breath, obviously not too happy with the fact that Fred is demanding me over there. I understand why he's pissed, I truly do. If he had some girl that really liked him and wouldn't leave a bar unless he showed up...I definitely wouldn't like it. But still. I know how Fred is. He won't leave unless I show up.
When he looks back up at me, he says, "I'm coming with you. I'm not leaving you alone with a drunk him."
I nod, knowing that this will probably not be okay with Fred but not having the energy to care. Ethan showing up will probably piss him off and send him into one of his drunken rants, but I could care less. I know why Ethan wants to come, and if it were me I would demand the same thing.
I give Ethan a small smile as a thank you, and when he shoots me a quick wink I know that we're okay. Bringing the phone back up to my ear, I ask Jesse, "Where are y'all?"
After he tells me the places name a quick summary of how to get there, I tell him, "I'll be there."