Fated(60)

Shaking my head, my face was expressionless. “A fight,” I snorted, running my fingers through my tangled hair for what had to be the 50th time of the day. “No, I don't know what the hell is going on, Georgia. Normally if he goes somewhere, he leaves me a note. There's no note. He's gone,” I paused for a moment as the realization of my own words sunk in. My voice cracked when I was finally able to speak again. “He's gone.”

“Honey, he could be at the store. Or home. Maybe he's running errands or doing something besides being up your ass.” Georgia waved her hand in dismissal. “Men are a dime a dozen. There's a hundred of him out there, Josie. You shouldn't be tied down anyway. You're young and…”

“I don't want a hundred other men, Georgia,” I snapped, my eyes stinging with tears. “I want him. I finally find him and now he's gone.”

“Holy fucking hell. You love him?” Georgia asked, her voice incredulous and raising in volume. “You love him?! Josie, what the fuck?”

I came out of the recollection with a deep gasp like I'd been under water for too long. It made all of the fear and doubt I had pushed away resurface, my chest clenching in pain at the memory.

“I will never leave her like that again, Georgia. That I can promise you. Can you tell the others we are leaving?” His voice was thick with emotion and his handsome face was grim. “Please.”

Georgia nodded, pulling me to her in a hug. She pulled away, kissing me on the cheek briefly. She shot Stefan a sharp look before disappearing into the crowd.

Stefan's fingers intertwined with mine as we made our way through the crowd, his shoulders tight with anxiety. He was silent as we walked to his car, the only sound were my heels as they clicked out a staccato rhythm on the pavement. He pulled me along and my legs struggled to keep up with his long, purposeful strides. He opened the door for me, swiftly closing it behind me after I settled into the car. Seconds later he was in the seat beside of me and his eyes were staring blankly out the windshield. I nervously twisted my hands in my lap as I waited for him to talk, my stomach churning with apprehension.

“Is that how you felt, Josephine? It was if you had given up,” Stefan muttered, his voice quiet. I could see the despair etched on his handsome face. It was obvious he hadn't truly forgiven himself for leaving, even though he'd insisted that I let the misunderstanding go.

“Yeah, Stefan. That's how I felt at that moment. Even though I knew I loved you, I was still trying to deny it. I knew that first night we met you were it for me. And then you left....I realized I never told you how I truly felt. So not only was I torn apart because you were gone, I was mad at myself for letting you slip away without telling you I loved you,” I whispered, my hand reaching for his. I brought it to my lips, placing a kiss on the back of his hand.

"Didn't you tell me I was supposed to forgive myself, Stefan? Why can't you do the same?”

His head turned to look at me, his soulful eyes searching my mine. A remorseful smile broke over his face as he leaned over the console to press his lips against mine gently. He lightly kissed my nose before moving to turn the car on.

“Did I mention that I do not like to be wrong, vackra?” Stefan asked, his voice lighter and had a teasing tone to it.

Laughing, my hand reached to rest on his thigh. “No, but join the club. I hate it when you're right.”

The ride home was quiet and comfortable. He seemed lighter, his normal swagger returning as we pulled into the garage. He blurred to my side of the car and extended his hand to me. I winked, placing my much smaller hand in his as he smoothly pulled me out of the car and into his arms. He tossed me over his shoulder and walked into the house with me kicking and squirming against him.

“Stefan, put me down!” I squealed against the small of his back. I was only half-hearted in my attempt to escape, since I had the pleasure of admiring the view of his firm ass from this angle. I was just getting ready to playfully struggle against him again when I felt a smack on my ass. I should have been angry at his mischievous swat, instead I felt arousal tingling in my stomach. All it took was a simple look or touch from him to set my body on fire, the intensity painfully delicious.

“Did you just spank me, Stefan?” I asked quietly, jumping when another playful smack from his hand made contact with my ass. He was silent as he carried me quickly through the house, walking up the stairs to the master bedroom. He tossed me on the bed and my body bounced from the impact.

Stefan stalked across the room to lower himself in the chair in the corner of the room, his sharp eyes watching me. He still hadn't spoken and his thoughts were intentionally jumbled as I tried to take a mental peek to see what he was planning.