ANABEL

 

Emily’s plane was due to depart tomorrow afternoon, but before that, my parents wanted to organize an engagement party.

Since they didn’t get to be there for the real deal they wanted to do this for me. Will and me both.

I saw their uncertainty about the wedding and me moving to the States to be with William. Oh, they love Will, don’t get me wrong. But they are scared. Their little girl is getting married and moving to a foreign country. I understand it. But at the same time, I know what I’m doing is right.

I love William, and he loves me.

I tried to deny myself the feeling. I tried to stay away. I tried to run away. I did. I really did. But being without him is like living without a soul. I feel empty and sad. There is no light or happiness. Life is just a series of motions and you just walk through them without feeling. Without living.

I can’t do that to him or to myself. Maybe that makes me a selfish person, but in order to be whole I have to hurt the people I love. And no matter how much that hurts me in the process, I’ll always choose William. I’ll always choose us. Because there is no pain worse than being without him.

So, for Emily’s last night in Croatia, my parents organized a dinner in a fancy restaurant. Just a small gathering with Emily, Will, Val and her boyfriend.

Mom is all into showing Emily traditional Croatian food, drinks, sweets, places, you name it she’s got it. I think subconsciously she hopes that’ll make us try to move here, but that’s impossible.

William’s career is the USA and to be honest, so is most of fun, writing related events like signings, swag makers, cover designers and editors, agents and major publishing houses and platforms. If I want to make a name for myself in the writing world, I know I have to be there. Close to all the action.

The whole night is going great.

The dinner was amazing. Everybody was chatting and enjoying themselves. Well, everybody except Val’s boyfriend.

I couldn’t help but notice the distance between the two of them. It’s like a canyon opened between them and there was nothing somebody could do. Dominik was all quiet and moody while Val tried to act all cheery, but I could see the tension in her shoulders and tight set of her jaw. I wanted to ask her what’s wrong, but this wasn’t the time or the place. 

Thankfully, Mom and Emily covered the awkwardness with their chatter. I still couldn’t believe how well they kicked it off. Looking at them talk this week seemed more like they knew each other for years, not days.

Our waiter comes our way and whispers something to Mom. She nods enthusiastically and claps her hands to grab everybody’s attention.

“Is everybody ready for a dessert?”

“Mom,” I groan loudly, but William stops me before I can say more.

“Elena, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

“Oh, hush, you two. This is my event, and I can organize it however I see fit.”

Just in that moment, the waiter brings a cake to our table. It’s a small cake covered in white fondant icing. Congratulations on your engagement Will & Bel is written in red letters on the top—the color we chose for our wedding—and is surrounded by small hearts and there is an engagement ring in a box.

So that’s why she wanted to take a picture of my engagement ring a few days ago! Not to show it to her friends like she claimed. Or maybe she did both.

I get on my feet and give Mom a hug. “Thank you so much, Mom. The whole evening is amazing,” I whisper in her neck. “And the cake is beautiful.”

Her hands wrap around me tightly, and I think I hear her sniffle. “You’re welcome, baby girl.”

We stand like that for a bit longer than necessary, but this is my engagement party so screw them. When I finally let go of Mom, I hug Dad too. He maybe didn’t participate in the organization of the whole thing, but I know he loves me and wishes me well.

After emotions settle down, Mom insists on taking pictures. Lots and lots of pictures. So many you’d think she’s a professional photographer. Will and me alone. Will and me with his mom, my sister, Val, and her boyfriend. Then Emily takes a picture of us with my family and then Val of the both families together. Then it’s just boys and just girls. I don’t know how many more options there were, but she got them all saved for eternity before she grabbed the waiter that brought out the cake to take one picture of all of us together.

“I’m afraid of what’ll happen once the wedding comes around,” Will whispers to me as we wait for the waiter to cut the cake.

Chuckling lightly, I lean into him so Mom doesn’t hear. Or maybe it’s because he smells delicious. Fresh, citrusy, and this special scent that is all William. If I could, I would burrow my head into the crook of his neck and never get out of it.

“Nah, she’ll be too worried that everything goes perfectly to take the pictures.”

“Let’s hope you’re right. We wouldn’t want to get stuck in our changing rooms with her and the camera. I don’t think we’d make it to the altar in a week.”

I smack him in the shoulder. “Are you making fun of my Mom, mister?”

“I certainly am not.” His hand goes around the back of my seat and pulls me into him. “What did we say about hitting my golden arm, soon-to-be Mrs. Price?”

William leans closer. So close his nose touches my neck. I nibble at my lower lip, trying to hide the fact that the feel of his hot breath on my skin makes it wobble.

“Do you want me to spank that perky, little ass of yours?” his voice is a raspy whisper in my ear.

My whole body shivers at the sound of his voice. That’s the kind of power this man has over me. A hushed word or two, a caress here and there, and I’m melting at his feet.

“I-I think we established that the last time. My tiny body can’t cause a lot of damage to big and mighty William Price,” I stutter.

Will moves away, enough so he can look me in the eyes. His fingers caress my cheek.

At first, he keeps quiet. Warm chocolate eyes look at me softly. They shine brightly with love. So much love it would hurt for me to stare at him if I didn’t feel the same way. I can only hope he always looks at me that way. Even when we’re eighty years old and sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch of our house. I hope he looks at me like that forever.

“Hey, love birds!” Mia, my little sister, breaks us out of our own world. “If you don’t stop staring at each other all googly-eyed and shit, I’ll puke. And this cake is too good to be wasted that way.”

I shoot a stern look her way, but the smell of the white chocolate and raspberries draws my attention.  

My favorite.

I can’t grab the fork fast enough. I take a piece and put it in my mouth. My eyes fall shut and a low moan escapes me.

“So damn good,” I mutter. When I open my eyes, Will is looking at me, a smirk curling his lips and a hungry look in his eyes. “You have to try this. It’s so delicious!”

I take a piece on my fork but can’t do much more because her pulls me to him. His lips crash to mine and his tongue demands entrance which I give willingly.

This time I moan for completely different reasons. Chocolate and raspberries and Will; there is nothing more intoxicating than this.

The fork falls from my hand to the plate and my hands curl behind his neck to pull him closer, fingers getting lost in soft waves of brown locks.

Both of his hands are on my cheeks holding me close.

His tongue darts further inside my mouth, velvet against velvet.

Conquering.

Owning.

Loving.

I hear a loud groan come from deep within his chest. It’s long, needy, and painful. My lip tugs upward, if only slightly. I can’t help but feel glee every time he gets this way.

My body reacts to his so easily.

Just a touch is enough to make me crave more.

Just a tingle of his breath on my skin makes my whole body shiver.

Just a kiss makes me melt and want all of him.

It feels good to know I affect him too. It feels good to know you’re not just loved but desired. Wanted in every way possible.

We break our kiss. Both of us panting heavily. Taking a few seconds to compose before we face the rest of the restaurant that got quite a show.

William gets a grip on himself way before I do and turns to look at the rest of our table that’s starting in our direction uncomfortably. I know because I can see it from the corner of my eyes, and even if I couldn’t, I would feel their probing stares directed my way.

He clears his throat and takes the fork in his hand to finally start eating his cake. He tastes the cake and moans loudly.

“This.” He looks at our mothers and points to his plate. “We’ll have this as our wedding cake even if I have to ship it from Croatia to the States.” Then he turns to my flushed form on the chair next to his and winks. “It holds special memories.”