Enchanted (Billionaire Boys Club #2) | ongoing

Chapter 52

Donatella:

I was waiting for it. Prepared. To see him and talk to him and learn his side. I really, truly was.

But when I got to school, I didn't see him. When I went to our English class that we shared together, he wasn't there.

Every time I hurriedly glanced up at the door, heart skipping a beat, hoping it was him that walked through, it'd skip two more. Because it was never him.

He hasn't been here all day.

And I mean, it might not mean anything. But after what's happened over the weekend, I'd thought that he'd also want to talk.

But maybe I'm being selfish for being disappointed? I don't know what's going through his head, the same as he doesn't know what's going through mine. If I wasn't so determined to communicate about this today, I might have skipped coming, too.

Or... maybe, he doesn't show because, he doesn't want to see me at all. He doesn't want me. Not anymore. But what happened for him to think that? Did he realise how strange it was? Being with me when he could've had anyone in this whole school? The whole town? Did he remember our past by some miracle and believe that it was awkward or weird to be with his childhood best friend? Is that all he sees me as if that's the case? Someone he used to know? Someone he could play with and laugh with but never love romantically?

By the time school lets out, my head hurts. But my heart hurts even worse.

I can feel the lump appear in my throat as I shut my locker door and turn to leave.

I feel the tears build as I exit the building and then I feel them burn the backs of my eyes when I realise that I'm heading to where his car is usually parked, ready to be driven home by him, only to look away and see anh Hoàng a few ways away, waiting with the family car.

I hold them in all the way home, fixing my eyes out of the window and forcing them to disappear. They do at one point. But at the prospect of entering the solitude of my bedroom and being alone with my breaking heart, they return with a vengeance.

I slide out of the car and inhale deeply as I head for the front door, only to stop dead in my tracks when it opens.

There he stands. Tall and handsome as ever, the only evidence that he probably hasn't slept being the faded dullness under his eyes. But above that, clouding whatever fatigue he has, is an expression of resolution.

My mother stands beside him and she lays a hand on his arm, saying something I can't hear. He nods, facing his head to her and responding. Then, he looks up and locks his gaze with mine.

I'm frozen in place as he begins his journey towards me. It's like he's walking in slow motion. I feel every step he takes like a jolt to the heart.

He stops in front of me, gazing down with a mixed countenance of guilt and determination. Another also hides somewhere in there. I can only hope that warmth is still romantic and not platonic.

I don't think I can be just friends this time.

I don't feel it happen, but it must because his hand comes up to wipe a tear that has fallen down my cheek.

"Don't cry for me." I hear him say lowly. "Not like this. Not ever."

I sniff, hurriedly swiping the sleeve of my pink cardigan that's pulled over my hand over my face, ridding it of any remaining tears.

I focus my eyes onto the ground for a moment, collecting my bearings before lifting my head again to look up at him.

"Do- Do you-?"

He nods,, knowing exactly what I mean.

"Where were you? No one would tell me. Oakley or Jeremy or Lee. I... I wanted to- I thought you-"

Taking one last step forward, he feels me in, tucking me into his embrace. "I'm going to explain everything." He tells me, the words slightly muffled as he voices them over my head. "Today." I grip the fabric of his crewneck beneath his jacket with a hold so tight you'd think he was about to dissolve out of existence. "And I'm going to fix it." He continues. "I'm going to make it right. I promise."

"Pinky promise?" My voice is shaking.

"Pinky promise." He says, holding me tighter in one last hug before pulling back. "Will you come with me?"

I glance left but instead of his car, I spot a motorcycle. It's as intimidating as he is. Large and black with hints of blue and gold, shining against the light of the late afternoon sun.

"What happened to your car?"

"I crashed it."

My eyes shoot wide and I snap my head up.

"I'm fine." He's quick to amend. "I just uh... I did it on purpose."

At my incredulous expression, he goes on. "Not that I planned to crash it. Not exactly. I just needed to blow off some steam."

"So... crashing your car solved it?"

He looks sheepish and I scold myself for weakening because of it.

"I get it back in a few days so it doesn't matter. The bike is my second mode of transportation. I don't have another car and my dad would kill me for touching one of his precious "children". I won't let you get hurt. You're safe with me. You know that, right? I'll go slow if you want."

When I don't say anything, I sense his apprehension intensify. So I nod and hand my bag to a maid who comes over to take it from me.

Darius then takes my hand and leads me over to the motorbike. He lifts a helmet off of the the handle and my chest swells at the sight of it.

"I had it made for you." He explains when he notices me watching it. Baby pink with small diamonds decorating the surface, glittering against it like little stars in a cotton candy sky. "You like it?"

"It's pretty." I tap one of the gems.

He smiles, almost ending me. I've yet to become accustomed to his smile. It's devastating. I'm certain it's powerful enough to beckon any woman on the planet to him.

He seats it onto my head and I shiver when his hands adjust the strap under my chin, fastening it in place. He moves it around my head. "Is it comfortable? Tight enough?" At my confirmation, he puts on his own helmet, plain black with a small golden crest on the side that I read as BBC. I wonder what that means.

He hikes one long leg over the bike and sits himself down before turning to me.

I hesitate for only a second, then climb on behind him, pausing when I don't know what to do next.

He takes my hands from behind and brings them around him so that they're wrapped around his middle and I feel his abs flex through his shirt when they meet.

"Hold on tight, baby." He tells me.

Part of my anxiety washes away when he calls me that, chipping away some of the doubt that tells me that he no longer wants me in that way.

I strengthen my hold on him and he turns on the bike, revving the engine three times. "You ready?" His head turns to look back at me. I bob my head once and he faces back forward, extracting a last roar from the engine before he turns the bike and we're off.