Entangled (A Twisted Tale #1)

by R. Phillips

“What makes you think I’m high maintenance?” He tosses me a grin over his shoulder while walking to the door behind the bar, eyes dancing with mischief. “The fact that you ordered two limes.”

But something in my gut tells me Jace Dawson is a master at slipping through the cracks in people’s walls. And I just can’t afford another hostile invasion that ends in nothing but tragedy. Last night did nothing but prove that to me.

“Did you really have to go grocery shopping today?” His eyes flare wide and he stills for a second before a careless shrug rolls off of him. “I didn’t not have to go.” “So that’s a no?” “Let’s just say…” Eyeing me playfully, he drags his bottom lip through his teeth. “I might have been driving home when I saw this badass Rover in the parking lot that practically screamed LA.” That blinding smile spreads right before he dips his head to my ear. “And Blondie, I wasn’t going to miss taking my shot.”

“Seriously.” His fingers brush my hair softly. “Not many people could have…” He pauses, brows pulling down slightly, eyes flicking to mine before he drops his lips to the top of my hair with a soft kiss and continues speaking. “You should be proud. Not many people could have faced what you did today, myself included.” With that he steps back and gives me a small grin before turning to walk to the passenger side of the car. Oh, yeah. So not equipped to analyze that one in my current state of mind. But as I walk to the driver’s side of the car, I can’t help the soft smile that pulls at my lips because of the happiness his words spark inside of me.

And the words of the song… they’re exactly what I need. Soothing me into peaceful tranquility with the promise of better days. They’re the hope, the light, that moment of standing in the sun after the darkest day. Just like him. I realize it then, as a lone tear falls from my eyes that are drifting closed, what had me so edgy before. It was that I had expected sex with him to be good, amazing even, and it was. But I had never expected it to feel like more.

“Uh—” I take another bite of soup and try to stomp on Jace’s foot when he runs it up my calf. “I—” How am I supposed to focus like this? “Jace,” Jack’s voice snaps out. “Stop playing footsie with the girl and let her speak.” Jace’s foot drops instantly and his expression turns contrite. “Yes, sir.” As if. “Now go ahead, El.” “Thank you.” I throw Jace a smug look before continuing.

I say nothing, because sometimes, a hurt can run so deep that no matter how many millions of words are heaped upon it in an attempt to heal, they do nothing but settle like salt on a wound. Sometimes, it takes a different form of understanding, of giving a bit of yourself to another, to ease their pain. Of one soul letting the other know, they are not alone in their suffering.

“But what about like money? Or… I don’t know, job security?” “I have enough saved up that missing out for a while isn’t going to hurt me and besides… it’s done.” “Oh.” “Your eloquence this morning is overwhelming.”

I open my mouth to retort and Coop quickly waves a hand between us. “Alright. Alright, back to your corners.” He shoots his friend a look of reprimand. “Don’t be an ass, man.” I lean back and smirk smugly, causing Alec’s eyes to narrow on me further until they’re nothing but slits. Coop turns his head to look at what I’m doing and I wipe the expression from my face but he still squeezes my knee in reprimand. “You too, Brat.”

He stares into my eyes for the longest time and the pull that is singularly ours flows between us as if it were its own entity, trying to mend the damage we’ve inflicted.

“Just get in the car. Let’s talk about this at home, please.” Home. He came after me and now… Home, as in, ours. “No.” I shake my head stubbornly. Knowing that if I get into that car with him right now, that will be it. There will be no going back for me. He’ll have all of me, every little jagged piece. His eyes narrow at my refusal and run the length of my body. “You’re fucking shaking. Get in the car.” “No.” I take a step back from him in retreat and his hand shoots out, wrapping around my arm in a vicelike grip and stepping into me. Putting us skin to skin with each other. He drops his head down close enough that I can see the darkness slowly cloud over his eyes. “Get in the fucking car.” “No!” I shout, yanking at the arm he holds, my breath heaving in panic. “I love you, now get in the fucking car!” he roars, reaching up to snag my other arm, but there’s no need. The fight leaves me at his words and I shake my head against them, terror blanketing me. “You can’t.” My voice cracks as I fight for breath. “Too. Bad.” Something inside of me snaps and I push at his chest. “You can’t!” He pulls me right back against him, voice coming out low. “Too fucking bad. I love you.” Dropping his head, he brings our faces a hairbreadth apart. “And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.” He speaks it like a reverent prayer, pouring his love into me as if the words alone will ease my pain.

“Aha! I knew it!” He turns his head to me, face victorious as he holds the laptop aloft. “You little liar! You watched it without me.” I take a few measured breaths, watching his expression fall as he notices the look on my face. “Let me explain something to you, Dawson.” I take a step toward him, tone low and threatening. “If you ever pick my lock again. Not only will I never sleep with you again. I will pepper this town with flyers saying that you have a multitude of venereal diseases and find a way to tattoo Blondie Was Here First on your dick while you sleep as a permanent reminder of me.” I cock a brow and cross my arms. “Capiche?”

I try to figure out exactly how and where it happened. But the truth is, I don’t know. I have no freaking clue. There isn’t one moment I can point to. I only know that he picks locks. He picks locks and is ridiculous and clever and shines like the sun while doing it. And I think he started to pick mine somewhere along the way more than I noticed. Somewhere along the way, it stopped being about needing someone and became about needing him.

“These stars of ours were written in darkness and bound with light. Ensuring my soul would seek yours for eternity. Forever lost to this captivating insanity of we.” His words reach right in and grab hold of my heart, leaving it achingly full of love and my eyes pricking with feeling. Lifting his head, his lips pull up at the corners when he finds me peeking up at him with a rare, silly smile on my face. “When did you write that?” “A few days ago.” He shrugs. “You know you have my heart, right?” I tell him, that damn pricking behind my eyes causing my voice to quietly break. “It’s yours, battered as it may be.” He scoots down the bed and lies right next to me, night-forest eyes soft on mine. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” “Read some more to me?” “Always.”

“Marry me.” He echoes confidently. “I want thousands of days with you. Days like today, where you make me watch trash TV or listen to Taylor Swift until my brain bleeds.” His lips twitch up. “But it’s worth it, because I get to be with you, to see that softer side of you where you’re all curled up under the covers eating ice cream. The side so few do.” He reaches down and grabs my hand, twining our fingers together. “I want to spend the rest of my life peeling back your layers, getting to know every facet until I know what you’re thinking before you do. I may not have the answers for everything yet… But I know that I will never stop loving you.”

can’t lose him. He’s my sun.

“See you around, Alyssa.” No, you most certainly will not, Jace Dawson.

“We’ll be back in a few.” Then he leans down and shocks the hell out of me by throwing me over his shoulder and calling out as he starts to walk away. “Blondie here needs to cool down.”

Mac’s rough voice answers on the second ring. “Els?” It takes me a moment to find my voice, to figure out what words to say to explain this pain. “I need you,” I choke out brokenly. His voice is instantly alert. “What happened?” “It doesn’t matter,” I whisper. “Not anymore. But I’m not ready to come home yet.” “What do you need?” he asks quietly, and I hear Stef and Kai in the background, asking him what’s wrong, the sound of their voices rising in agitation when he doesn’t respond. “Let’s start with Berlin.”