Jillian Dodd - Adore Me

I wipe my tears and nod.

And then we kiss.

And this kiss kills me.

A knife straight through my heart kills me.

Because I feel that way too.

“You’re still crying,” he says, wiping away my tears.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby. It’s been a rough night. Let’s go to bed.”

Then he takes my hand, leads me to my turret, takes my dress off, puts his blue linen shirt on me, pulls me into bed, kisses me sweetly, and holds me tight.

Pretty soon, I notice that he’s breathing heavily; asleep.

I glance at the clock, counting down the time I have left with him and holding him tighter than I ever have before.

Sorta like fate.

3am

I can’t sleep. My brain is still counting down—ticking and ticking— the hours and, now, the minutes until I have to say goodbye.

My stomach hurts. My heart aches. I feel sick.

I still can’t believe he wished on the moon.

But, yet, I know it’s true. Deep down inside me, I know it’s true.

And I don’t want to leave him.

But I know I have to.

I know it’s the only way.

I stare at him sleeping next to me.

Knowing it will be the last time.

I close my eyes and try to soak him in. The feel of his body curled into mine. His strong hand protectively holding my leg. The smell of his neck. The pace of his beating heart.

As I start to cry, I hear music. The same chords gently strummed across a guitar over and over. A soft, dreamy voice.

I slide out of bed, being careful not to wake Aiden, peek out the window, and see Damian sitting down by the water with his guitar.

I throw a robe around me and tiptoe out of the room.

“That’s pretty,” I say, sitting down next to him. “Is it new?”

When he replies, I see the boy I used to know, who was a little unsure of his talent, not the confident man he’s become. “I’m working on a song for her. I feel like I know everything about her but yet I don’t know the most important thing.”

“What’s that?”

“How to make her mine. She’s gorgeous. Sweet. My dream girl. When I walked up the beach, I felt like . . . I don’t even know; it’s hard to put into words. That’s why I’m having a hard time with this song.”

He studies me closely. “Are you and Aiden okay?”

I shrug, not knowing what to say.

“He had a chat with me. Like the talk Tommy had with me the night before I took you parking.”

“We didn’t go parking.”

“You and I know why you wanted to go up there.”

“Research for a role.”

“Exactly. But Tommy didn’t believe that. He basically told me if I touched you, he’d fuck me up.”

“He wouldn’t say that!”

“He didn’t say that, but that was the message. Trust me.”

“He's really protective of her. They've been through a lot together.”

“I know about everything.”

“Like what?”

“She told me all of it. Listed every reason why I shouldn’t like her. What happened with her mom. Why she ended up at school. Why Aiden went there. Her affair with the teacher. Her friend threatening her. Her partying, activities, and the names and addresses of every boy she ever kissed.”

“Why would you need their addresses?”

“So I can write each one a thank you note for being a dick to her.”

“You really have been talking.”

He nods. “And I told her everything about me. My past, the tour, and even the groupies. Now if I could just put in words how I felt when I first met her.”

I think about how Aiden made me feel when I first met him. “Did you feel like she spoke to your soul? Or like she was a magnet that you couldn’t help but be pulled toward?”

“That’s exactly what it felt like. Hang on,” he says as he writes the words magnetic and soul into the notes app on his phone. “She probably thinks I’m a freak because I can’t stop staring at her, but I feel like I’m looking at my future. And that smile.” He stops again and adds smile and future to his list.

“Wanna hear a funny story?”

He nods at me.

“I tutor Aiden in French. And one of the very first times we were in the library studying, he told me we were fate. That it was fate that we were there. That we both ended up at the same school. And I laughed at him . . .”

Damian starts typing, so I stop talking. “No, keep going,” he says.

“Anyway, he asked me what the French word for fate was and it’s . . .”

“Sort,” Damian says slowly.

“Right. And then he said that we’re sorta like fate.”

He puts his palm into the air. “Hang on.” He types some more then says, “What else?”

“Then he told me that he’s going to ask me to marry him at the . . .” Tears start streaming down my face. Damian looks up from his phone.

“Marry you?”

“Yeah, at the top of the Eiffel Tower, at sunset.”

“It sounds like something you would’ve scripted.”

“It’s way better than anything I’ve ever scripted,” I reply, hugging myself and trying not to have a total crying breakdown.

“Don’t cry,” he says, lightly punching my thigh. “Close your eyes and listen to this.” He starts singing, “You’re my faith and inspiration. You’re the ink in my tattoo. You’re the water in my desert. All I can think about is you. You’re the sun in all my sunsets. You’re the wind in every breeze. You’re the moon on my horizon. You’re the one that makes me breathe.”

“That’s beautiful, Damian.”

“I need a chorus. Something about fate. And us being here. I’m gonna record us. Listen again and then sing the first thing that pops in your head. Okay. Here goes. You’re my faith and inspiration. You’re the ink in my tattoo. You’re the water in my desert. All I can think about is you. You’re the sun in all my sunsets. You’re the wind in every breeze. You’re the moon on my horizon. You’re the one that makes me breathe.”

I feel his words resonate in my heart and when he finishes, I sing, “It’s sorta like fate that we’re together. It’s sorta like fate that we’re both here.”

He continues, “It’s sorta like you and me forever.”

“My destiny is clear.”

“Holy shit. That’s it,” Damian says. “That’s exactly it. You’re a genius.”

I give him a smile, then bite my lip so I won’t start crying again.

Damian turns off the recorder and puts his hand on top of mine. “You still planning on telling him goodbye?”

“Yeah.”

“Keats, I think that might be a mistake.”

“You know I don’t have a choice.”

“Are you sure about that? I mean, have you really thought it all through?”

“Yes, there’s no other way.”

“What if I help you find another way? No one knows I’m here. If I went back with you, I could help.”

I shake my head. “If you go back with her, I can’t go back. And you can’t help me.”

“So, you’re going to make me choose?”

“Yeah, Damian, I am. And your choice should be easy. If you love her like I think you do, don’t you dare let her go.”

“I love you too, you know.”

“I know, but it’s not the same.” My eyes fill with tears. “Damian, will you promise me something?”

“Okay,” he says tentatively.

“That didn’t sound like a promise. I’m completely serious about this. I need you to promise that you’ll do this for me.”

“Okay, I promise. What do you want me to do?”

“If I don’t make it through this battle with Vincent. If I die. I need you to tell Aiden that I loved him.”

Damian’s eyes get huge and he lunges toward me, knocking his guitar into the sand. He grabs both my arms and says sternly, “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that.”

“Just promise me, please. I can’t do this if you don’t promise.”

He lets me go, looks into my eyes, and nods. “I promise, Keats.”

“Thanks. I’m gonna go back to my room. Try to get a little sleep before—well, just before . . .”

I wish none of us had to leave.

6am

I dozed off at some point, but the clock is still ticking in my brain and I can’t lie here any longer.

I wander down to the beach and find Damian still out in the cabana, asleep.

I go up to the house and grab a few of Inga’s homemade oatmeal cookies and two cups of coffee and carry them out to the sand and wake him up.

“Shit,” he says. “I can’t believe I fell asleep out here.”

I look out at the sky brightening as the sun rises behind us. “I didn’t tell you, but something happened last night.”

“Besides the call from Brook?”

“Yeah. I saw the green flash.”

“You always say that.”

“No, for real. We both saw it.”

“You’re totally in love with him.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“So why would you even want to give B a chance?”

“Because I promised.”

“But why did you do that?”

“Because, Damian, he’s the boy I’ve always dreamed about.”

“And now, if they were both standing in front of you and you had to choose, who would you pick?”

“I had a dream like that. You were in it, but you were a wolf. We were all humans trapped in wolves bodies and I had to choose between the Brooklyn wolf and Aiden wolf. And I think you helped me somehow, because when I kissed one of them, I chose right. It was true love’s kiss, it broke the curse, and all the wolves turned back into men.”

“But you don’t know who you kissed?”

“No.”

“So what does that tell you?”