A/N: Erm, well I’m not quite sure how to say this. This chapter, um, kinda leave’s the PG zone, and well dances into, erm, ‘adultry’. PHEW! Glad to get that out!!
While Artemis was sulking I sorted out my feelings. Believe me, it wasn’t easy. What I came up with was this:
1.Artemis is really annoying, and I swear he does it on purpose, so I’m not going to be nice to him.
2.It’s not my fault Artemis cried. He’s a wuss.
3.Stuff Myles. I loved last night and I am in love with Beckett.
In fact, I was so in love that I decided I could brave the dragon, and tell Artemis how I felt.
“Polly! I’m sorry I tried to kiss you.”
“Yeah, whatever.” I sit down on the bed next to him.
“It’s a double bed,” Artemis points out, hoping I’m a very forgiving person.
I rolled my eyes. “I noticed.”
“And we’re engaged, so actually that’s really good for us.”
“Oh. I thought I was forgiven.”
“Nope. I actually love someone else.”
“You can’t. Well, I suppose you can love who you like, but the Press would have a field day if they found out that you were engaged to someone else. It’s a royal wedding, Polly.”
Ugh! What a dork! He doesn’t control me!
“You can’t tell me what to do! Have kids and tell them whatever you like. But you don’t own me.”
“OK. Let’s have kids, then.”
“No! No! I barely know you!”
“You get very angry very easily. You shouldn’t. It’s not very nice for the person on the receiving end.”
So I took a deep breath and re-phrased my statement. “I don’t want kids, OK? I’m 19, I can’t be a mum!”
“You can! You can, Polly, I know you can! You’re very orderly, and a good role-model, and you’re very nice, when you want to be.”
Yeah, he has a good point. I probably could be a mum. But I don’t want to.
“So? I could but I won’t.”
“Go on. Lets.”
“Because I don’t love you, I love Beckett, OK? I slept with him!” Shoot. That was really dumb.
“Good! That’s good! That means you won’t be nervous, because you have experience, and you know me better than you know him.”
Wow. There was me expecting another breakdown. I could not have been more wrong.
“No! You don’t get it! I. Don’t. Love. You.”
“So? Who cares?” He curls up against me. Brilliant persuasion move, works a charm, no sarcasm intended. “Please? I love you.”
“I wouldn’t do it with you if you were the last man on Earth.”
“Yes you would,” he replies, nuzzling my neck.
I don’t reply to that, it’s just so stupid.
“Because otherwise humans would cease to exist, just because you’re scared.”
“Scared! I am not scared!”
His hands slide up my top. “Prove it.”
“I did it with your brother. I think that kinda ‘proves it’, don’t you?”
“You didn’t, though. It’s an excuse. If you’re scared, please tell me. I would like you to be comfortable around me.”
“I did! Let go of me!”
But he’s pushed me down, now lying on top of me. “If you’re pregnant in the next 2 months, I’ll believe you. However, right now I don’t. So if you and I have a baby, then you’ll be pregnant, then I’ll believe you.”
He’s got this stupid smirk on his face. He reckons he’s got me, hook line and sinker. I must admit, he’s close.
But he presses his lips against me, cutting me off. My top has been pushed right up to my bra.
“Stop!’ I manage to choke out.
“You said ‘OK’. You did, I heard you.”
“I was going to say something else.”
My top is off now, as is his. I don’t want to do this. I can’t.
“Well, bad luck. You’ve agreed.”
He cuts me off again, sliding his tongue around my mouth. His cold hands slip below my waistband. He can’t seriously do this. That’d be rape. That’d be breaking the law.
“Artemis, listen to me!”
“No. Don’t want to stop now.”
“Fine, don’t stop, just listen.”
His eyes were shining at the words ‘don’t stop’. He was finally silent, hands not still for a single second “Artemis, I. Don’t. Love. You. I slept with Beckett, OK? I love him.”
“If you’re too scared to do it, just say, please. I want you to be comfortable around me.”
“Scared?! I’m not scared!”
“But you must be, or you’d sleep with me.”
“I’m not! Stop it! Leave me alone!”
“Not listening! Nooo, you have to now!”
I kick him off furiously. “I. Don’t. Want. To. Get it?”
He rolls off, staring at my roof. “Sleep with me.”
“Were you not just listening to me?”
He giggled. Yes, actually giggled. “No, Polly. Sleep as in rest. Like, you and I share the same bed, and just rest.”
“It will get your confidence up.”
“You know, Polly, you need to learn acceptance. This is what is happening, it’s not really a request for permission.”
So I simply turned furiously on him, hogging as much blanket as possible.
Only much later in the night do I realise that it’s Saturday.