Lost To You special edition

CHAPTER V

FIVE ELIZABETH CHRISTIAN REACHED across the table and nabbed a fry from my plate. He’d already devoured his entire meal in what seemed less than two minutes.

I tried to smack his hand as he crammed the entire thing into his mouth.

“Hey, didn’t your mom teach you any manners?”

He snorted. “Oh, she taught me all kinds of manners. And it’s not like you’re going to eat them.”

I shook my head, unable to grasp how one person could eat so much food.

“Seriously, Christian . . . that can’t be healthy.”

“I’m a growing boy.”

I laughed. I really hoped not.

The guy was already too much, this force of energy that still stole my breath when he entered the room.

Over the last four weeks, we’d been hanging out a lot. The friendship we both needed was blossoming, growing, emerging into something indefinable.

I valued it more than I ever believed I could, though remained reserved, fortified behind the barriers I knew instinctively to put into place.

It was an intuitive command to guard my heart and guard it well.

Enforcing that rule had somehow begun to feel hypocritical, a deceitful mask that I hid behind because the thoughts swirling through my head about Christian could not be contained by the definition I’d set for us.

I’d come to depend on his company, thirsted for it, wanted it.

Wanted him.

Days were spent doing my best to ignore the stirring that gripped me inside when I saw him, to ignore how much I wanted to glide my hands over the strength rippling beneath the denim and cloth covering his body.

It was so screwed up, the direction my thoughts veered whenever the man was near, and he was never far because I couldn’t get him out of my head.

Here I’d told him nothing could ever happen between us, while I allowed my mind to go there, to imagine what his back would feel like under my fingers as I clung to him, what my bare skin would feel like against his.

I’d never desired before.

I’d been curious but less than enraptured by the idea of s*x, then was left wholeheartedly disillusioned by it in the wake of the pathetic experience I’d had.

Until I met Christian.

Now it throbbed in my consciousness and skimmed along my skin.

I wanted to feel him.

But I sensed it deep.

He would break my heart.

Just sitting here, I understood somehow that he already was.

Slowly, surely, these little fault lines in my defenses were splintering.

Fissuring.

From across the table, I studied Christian, wondering how one person could shift something so dramatically inside of me, scare me and give me this joy I didn’t know what to do with at the same time. How did he make me feel the most insecure I’d ever felt in my entire life, yet manage to make me feel the safest in his presence?

“So, how’s your math class going?” Christian wiped a napkin over his mouth, sat back in his chair with a satisfied sigh as he pushed his plate away.

Completely casual, he appeared to be unaware of the chaos he created in me.

“Okay, thanks to you.”

A smirk pulled at his mouth. “What would you do without me, Elizabeth?”

“Oh, I don’t know, find another cute boy to help me with math,” I said, anticipating his reaction if I teased him a little.

For a flash, his eyes narrowed. Then a dangerous grin spread across his face.

“I’m just dispensable, huh? Easily replaced?” He hunched and lowered, pressed his chest into the table to meet me at eye level, this slow playfulness coming across him. “How about I let you fail next time?”

“Well, how about I feed you the wrong answers when we study for our next government test?” I countered.

He faked a disbelieving laugh, a gentle ribbing that twisted its way straight to my heart. He was so cute like this, like a harmless boy and not the man who made me fearful, not the one who urged me to hold on to my affections, careful not to let them go.

“You’re going to feed me the wrong answers, huh? You?” he challenged.

The entire meal, I’d felt his leg stretched under the table, reaching, giving in to casual brushes, then receding as if they hadn’t happened.

Now, Christian abruptly extended his leg, wove it between my legs, direct and bold.

My breath caught.

It was the closest we’d ever come to an embrace.

I averted my gaze but couldn’t for long because I could feel him staring at me.

His voice dropped. “You, sweet Elizabeth, the most innocent girl I know, are going to feed me the wrong answers? I bet you’ve never even told a lie.”

Heat flooded my face.

He was taunting me, prodding.

Is that what he really thought of me? Innocent?

But honestly, I guessed I was.

Well, maybe not innocent. Just inexperienced.

I had no idea how to play Christian’s games, no idea of what the girls he surrounded himself with were like, although I could only imagine. It had to be my greatest disadvantage. Vulnerability oozed from my consciousness, and I shifted in discomfort.

Christian could devour me whole.

His expression shifted as he edged even closer, his voice a whisper, “Just how innocent are you, Elizabeth?”

It was clear what he was asking, though I couldn’t tell what he hoped the answer to be. Those blue eyes flamed as he waited, his leg burning against the inside of my calf, the air in the restaurant thick.

I slowly shook my head.

“Not that innocent, Christian,” I whispered.

A long blink shielded his eyes, and something like disappointment flitted along the lines of his face before he swallowed and opened his eyes, searching.

“How many guys have you been with?”

Embarrassment flashed over my skin, spread over my chest and onto my face.

I averted my gaze.

Why was he doing this to me? We talked so much, most often casually, though at times those conversations turned serious, delving into deeper subjects as we learned more and more about the other. It had always felt like a comfort to have someone to confide in.

But we’d never talked about this.

“Hey,” he murmured, his tone shifting, the softness in his voice coaxing me to look back up at him. “You know all about me.”

Christian lifted one hand, the grimaced smile on his face almost pained, and counted off with his fingers. “Six, twenty-two, or maybe seventy-four.”

They were like little contemptuous checkmarks lifted in the air. “I can’t count that high, remember?” he said. “I’m bound to lose track.”

He was clearly trying to make light of it, but the words held a distinct undertone of hurt. “Don’t you think it’s fair if I know a little bit about you?”

I blew out a slow breath, remembering how I’d put him on the spot before.

Friends would know this about each other, anyway, but he and I both knew this wasn’t about us being friends.

“Just one,” I finally said, dipping my head down and to the side to hide the redness I knew would be there, though I couldn’t help but slant my eyes to watch his reaction. “He was my boyfriend for three years.”

I hated the heaviness that crept over me when I thought of Ryan, hated more that Christian had more of an effect on me than Ryan ever had.

“Of course, because I was fifteen and naïve when we started dating, I thought he was the one.”

A bitterness I’d kept concealed for too long broke loose. “He bugged me our entire senior year until I finally gave in right before graduation. I had s*x with him three times and all three times were awful. Then he broke up with me.

That’s it.”

I shrugged nonchalantly, playing it off as if I hadn’t just divulged the entirety of my pitiful experience with guys and that I hadn’t been a fool to fall for this obvious exploitation.

I was pinned to the chair by Christian’s sudden severity. My chest squeezed as his head tilted just to the side, the depths of that place I was scared to tread exposed.

“Do you still love him?”

I fumbled through the emotions Christian had crashing around inside of me for an answer, unable to discern how I felt. I licked my lips to steady myself.

When I spoke, my voice trembled. “No. I mean, it still hurts because of what he did. I was devastated for about a week, but it wasn’t hard to realize we didn’t have a future together. I just wish he would have broken up with me before he had s*x with me. I can’t stop thinking about how stupid I was falling for it.”

“And the asshole didn’t even know how to take care of you,” Christian murmured, the assertion rough and abraded.

His eyes were a destructive force as he stared at me.

There was no questioning what Christian was thinking right then.

A lump grew in my throat, the air between us too thick to swallow.

“You have no idea how badly I want to track down that guy and make him pay for what he did to you . . . for treating you that way.”

His words knocked me back from the physical response flooding my body. I frowned at him. “How is that any different than what you do?”

He blinked a couple times and hefted the air from his lungs. Our faces were so close, I felt it rush across my face. “Maybe there’s no difference . . . I don’t know . . .”

He angled a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck. “But I’ve never told anyone I loved them or that I wanted to be with them so they’d have s*x with me. I can’t tell you how angry it makes me that he did that to you.”

A tremor rolled through him, something palpable, more than jealousy.

I knew it then.

He truly did care about me.

This friendship was as real as I felt it was.

Maybe there was more to it. Maybe there was something to this simmering attraction that I didn’t know how much longer we could ignore.

But right then, this, him caring about me? It was what mattered.

Christian abruptly withdrew his leg and edged back in his chair.

Because we both understood it. The connection we shared was too important to ruin it by giving into the physical.

I faked a smile. “It’s fine . . . really. I’m over it. It was for the best. Believe me.”

Time passed so quickly. Before I could make sense of it, November had come.

Along with it, the approaching winter had ushered in a new feel in the air.

Christian had become a mainstay in my life, my closest friend, the one who I felt securest with. He was a comfort that wrapped around my body and spread all the way to my bones whenever he was near.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him from where I sat lengthwise on his couch. With my back propped up against the arm and my knees bent, I rested my bare feet on the soft suede of the cushions and balanced my calculus book on my thighs.

Christian’s apartment was so much more comfortable than mine, and we’d taken to studying here.

A decent-sized kitchen sat off to the left of the entrance, and the dining nook and living room took up the rest of the open space. Down a small hall to the back was his bedroom and bath.

Where my apartment had one small window over my bed, Christian’s apartment was open, two windows in his living room and one in his bedroom, something that felt like a total luxury.

During the day, it was brighter in here, a natural warmth flooding the room as rays of light slanted in from between the buildings on the opposite side of the street.

And at night . . . I loved it here at night. Lights seeped in, boasting the city and everything it had to offer. Horns blared and voices rose from the sidewalk below.

Christian’s couch had become my spot, and I relished in it now, snuggled against the plush fabric as I tried to maintain focused on my homework.

He sat on the floor, his legs stretched out beneath the coffee table and his back against the sofa. That head of black hair teased me from where it rested just at the juncture of where I had my knees bent.

Tonight, it was all over the place, sticking up in every direction. His hands continually came up to rush through it as if he were frustrated—probably because he was.

If I wanted to, I could reach out and touch, run my fingers through the softness. I could only imagine how his head would tilt back in undeniable pleasure, could almost hear a low rumble emitted from deep within his chest, how the sound would vibrate up my arm and cover me whole.

My hand twitched.

Sometimes that desire was so great I almost gave in to it, but we both always pushed it aside because the friendship we shared was so much greater than any fleeting attraction could ever be.

“I’m never going to get this,” he mumbled.

“Yes, you will. You always do.”

We studied together almost every night, but it wasn’t uncommon for us to get distracted, many times talking into the deep hours of the night about everything and anything.

While we were so much the same, there was also so much between us that was different—the way we looked at life and our goals for the future. Streaks of selfishness were so blatantly obvious in some of Christian’s words, the things he would say that would take me aback, reminding me of how distinctly different we were.

But here in this place, with Christian on the floor and me on his couch, those things couldn’t touch us. I settled into that safety, this place that was ours, where Christian was comfortable enough to put all those pretenses aside.

Christian groaned again, and his head dropped back onto my leg. He cut his blue eyes my direction. “Seriously, this sucks ass.”

“What sucks?” I trained my attention on my book in front of me and kept writing, pretending I didn’t love the way he felt against me.

That I didn’t savor in the slight pressure that slipped through my jeans and caressed my skin, that I didn’t love the sound of his voice even when it projected the most ridiculous words.

I already knew what was coming.

“This class sucks, is what.” A mischievous grin lighted at the edge of his lips. “Seriously, when do they think we’re ever going to use any of this garbage?

It’s a complete waste of time.”

I laughed and nudged him with my leg.

His body rocked a little then settled farther against mine.

“Don’t you know that’s what college is about . . . students spending years gathering useless information they’ll never use again, going hopelessly into debt, just so they feel smarter than the rest of their family? I mean, that’s why I worked so hard to get here, anyway.”

Sarcasm rolled off my tongue. He was such a whiner. For being one of the smartest guys I knew, he sure found a way to complain about every subject, every night.

I subtly rolled my eyes.

Clearly, he liked the sound of his voice as much as I did.

One side of his mouth tipped up with the cutest smile. It perfectly matched the tilt of his head.

“Fine, it’s not useless.” He reached up and pinched my thigh. “But right now, I can’t think of a single time in my life when I’m going to use it.”

A vain attempt was made at ignoring the heat spreading up my leg. “Quit complaining. You’re going to kick ass at Trivial Pursuit.”

This time he really laughed. It vibrated through the cushions and crawled across my skin. I tried to hold in the smile, tried to memorize the way it made me feel.

From the top of the coffee table, the sharp ring of Christian’s phone sliced into the room.

Of course, Christian’s phone rang constantly. I was never so blunt to ask who was calling.

I found I’d rather not know if it was some girl on the line.

The truth was, I didn’t want to know anywhere he went or what he did once he walked me back to my apartment each night. He had no obligation to me, but that didn’t mean I could stomach knowing who he was running off to jump in bed with the second I was out of his sight.

Glancing at the screen, he lifted his face to the ceiling and exhaled heavily.

“Great,” he mumbled.

He reluctantly accepted the call. “Hello.”

These were the only times when I paid attention, when I turned my ear to the conversation happening beside me.

I couldn’t help but listen when the calls he received caused Christian’s shoulders to sag and sucked his light from the room.

I was disgusted by it.

His parents’ pressures were so ingrained in him, they held him hostage in a place I was sure Christian didn’t even know he was a prisoner.

Every time they called, it was the same.

They never took the time to ask how he was, but rather questioned what he had done, what he had achieved, and pushed him some more.

I’d slowly begun to hate them, resenting them for forcing their son toward something that was so obviously holding him back. Christian insisted this was what he wanted for his life, and I knew part of him truly did want to be an attorney. But I could clearly see striving toward his father’s goals for him was more of a burden for Christian than a blessing.

“Hi, Dad.”

Through the phone, I could hear his father start right into him. The words might have been muffled, by they were a clear hostile coercion.

“Yeah, I got it.”

“No, Dad . . . I already did.”

Christian dropped his head, his fingers tugging at the ends of his hair. “I’m doing the best job I can,” he said, strained.

“What else do you expect me to do?”

Knots formed in my belly as I listened to the one-sided conversation. As I caught bits of the unfounded criticism and the unjustified berating.

“Fine,” Christian mumbled.

“You are?” Surprise increased the volume on those two words, followed by a frustrated sigh.

“Just let me know when and where.”

His father ended the call before Christian was given a chance to say goodbye.

It made my heart hurt. I reached out and touched him, my fingers light on his shoulder. This was not giving in. This was being there for my friend.

“Hey.”

He didn’t respond, just drew his knees up from under the table and wrapped his arms around them. Christian was always larger than life, but right then, he reminded me of a little boy.

“Please don’t let them do this to you, Christian. You’re amazing, and if they can’t see it, then they’re completely blind.”

The shake of his head was short and buried in his arms.

“f**k,” he groaned on a gravelly breath, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He cut his gaze over to me with his cheek pressed against his forearm.

“I’m going to prove him wrong, Elizabeth. I’m going to be the best damned attorney, and he’ll never be able to say another word to me about it.”

Worry cinched my lips into a thin line. This was the Christian who scared me the most, the one who couldn’t see what his parents were doing to him.

The one who, instead of fighting against it and living for what he wanted, ran head first into it.

Part of me had to understand the desire to please the ones who cared about us, but I didn’t believe Christian’s parents had his best interest at heart.

“It doesn’t have to be that way, Christian. What about what you want? Is this really it? Killing yourself to be the absolute best in everything you do?”

Lines creased between his eyes, his mouth twisting up in set determination.

“I’ll do whatever it takes, Elizabeth. Nothing is going to stand in my way.”

I closed my eyes to block myself from the hardened expression on his face.

He forced a large breath of air from his lungs. “I don’t feel like dealing with this s**t tonight. You want to get out of here?”

I looked up to find Christian maneuvering around to stand. It was almost ten, an hour or so earlier than when I usually left his place. Christian would always walk me home, then go and do whatever he did after he left me at my door.

Frowning, I attempted to decipher his intent, because it’d sounded like an invitation. “Where do you want to go?”

“There’s a party at my friend Sam’s. I have to stop by. His birthday was yesterday, and we’re celebrating it tonight.”

Oh, no way, no thank you.

I sat up and began gathering my things.

“I’ll just go home so you can head over,” I said with feigned indifference.

This was my safe place, the place where it was just Christian and me. I didn’t venture into his other world, the one that lit up his phone every weekend. “I’m pretty tired, anyway.”

Christian reached out as if he wanted to touch me and then thought better of it.

“I’d . . . would you just come?” The hard lines were gone, sincere blue eyes in their place. “I don’t feel like going over there by myself tonight.”

Dropping my chin, I bit at my lip as he waited for an answer. Truly, I didn’t want to go, didn’t want to stray from the comfort zone we’d erected around us, but I didn’t know how to resist him when he looked at me like that.

I glanced down at my old T-shirt and faded jeans. “I’m not really dressed to go out.”

“We’ll stop by your place on the way so you can change and leave your stuff there.” He grinned. “And it’s not like you could ever look bad, Elizabeth.”

I rolled my eyes at him, hating the little flutter that palpitated my heart whenever he said things like that. We both knew flattery was really unnecessary since it was obvious he had already talked me into it.

“Fine.”

I gathered my stuff, slipped into my jacket, and hefted my backpack onto my shoulders. I followed Christian out and down his hall.

He pulled open the stairwell door and extended his arm to hold it open, though he remained in front of me, as if he might need to catch me if I were to trip and fall.

The stairwell always seemed much too tight, the walls like a barrier that held in all the energy that radiated between us.

Outside the air was crisp, the night alive. I breathed it in, hoping to quell my racing nerves.

I could do this.

Christian was my friend, and it wasn’t fair for me to avoid every other aspect of his life that didn’t involve me. I’d made it clear before that I wanted to know him, really know him, and how could I if the only time I spent with him was behind his apartment door?

His hands were shoved in his pockets, his stride strong but slowed to sync with mine as he walked alongside me.

“So . . .” He breathed out, puffing out his cheeks as he did. “Turns out my parents are coming here for Thanksgiving after all.”

“Really? Is that what your dad called about?” I lifted a brow. Originally, his parents were supposed to be out of the country for the holiday. “You sound thrilled about it.”

Sarcasm arched my brow.

An incredulous sound slipped from his mouth. “A perfect night in Hell . . .

Thanksgiving dinner at some stuffy restaurant with my dad harassing me the entire time. Can’t wait.”

We walked a couple steps in silence before Christian fixed his gaze on me.

“Why don’t you come with me?”

Laughter bubbled up at the absurdity, but I held it in when I realized he remained silent, waiting.

Oh.

He was serious.

I frowned.

This sounded like a really bad idea. I couldn’t stand his parents, and I hadn’t even met them yet. “Don’t you think that’s a little bit weird? I mean, won’t they get the wrong idea or something?”

“Maybe.” A small shrug of his shoulders discounted it. “But I don’t really care. Let them think whatever the hell they want. I just don’t want to go by myself, and I don’t want you sitting at home by yourself on Thanksgiving, either.

At least if you’re there, my dad will lay off me a little. He wouldn’t want to look like the asshole he is in front of someone he doesn’t know.”

“So what you’re saying is you want me to protect you from your parents?” I teased.

“Exactly.” He knocked into me, jostling my body slightly to the side, the weight gone from his face as he laughed. “No, Elizabeth, you’re my best friend.

Who else would I want to spend Thanksgiving with?”

His words struck me, and I warmed from head to toe. That was really all I needed. I slowed to the point of barely walking, and I turned completely to face Christian at my side. “You’re my best friend, too, Christian. You know that, right?”

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. The expression on his face said it all.

He was all sweet and adoring, that soft look that always warned how easily we could slip.

Fall.

I drew in a deep breath and turned ahead.

“So? You’re coming?” he prodded as I stepped in front of him to open my building door.

“Of course, I’ll come.”

He followed me inside and up the stairs. “Guess I managed to talk you into two things you didn’t want to do tonight.”

He was so close behind me, his breath rustled through my hair.

“Um, yeah . . . I guess you did.”

“Must be my lucky night.”

I glanced over my shoulder at the smirk I already knew would be waiting there. The lightness in his tone warned me he’d made the flip to that cocky boy I’d met the first time in the café. I figured I’d be dealing with him all night since we were heading over to his friends’, although I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect.

I played along, smirked back. “Yeah, I’m sure it will be. Let’s see what little tramp you end up ditching me for tonight. Do you prefer blondes or brunettes?”

Laughter rang out and ricocheted on the brick walls, a thunder that pounded in my chest.

He reached out and tugged on a strand of my hair. “Blondes, Elizabeth.

Blondes. And did you just say tramp?”

“Yep, sure did.”

“Oh, you’re going to make all kinds of new friends tonight.”

Fifteen minutes later, we were walking side-by-side toward Sam’s apartment, a guy I’d never met, but was legendary in the stories Christian told.

Knowing them only managed to make me more nervous than before. I’d changed into my best jeans, a cute, wide-necked sweatshirt, and boots, hoping not to embarrass Christian since he was dragging me along.

I was never one for parties. Maybe because to me it symbolized what I’d given up to make it here.

If I were being honest? It just wasn’t my scene. The few I’d been to had been uncomfortable. The predatory feel in the air. Guys assessing whether a girl was as easy as she looked, and girls competing to win that attention.

No thanks.

I glanced back down at what I’d changed into, pretty sure I was going to be completely out of place. With longing, I glanced behind me. Maybe I could come up with an excuse, turn around, and go home so I could crawl in my little bed and hide.