Sorry it's late! Me and Stephie have been having a hard time finding a time to do this between (my) holidays and the ups and downs of life.
Life's such a bitch, sometimes.
...Then you marry one.
Love,
Lolly and Steph.
-F&I-
I tell you, there's nothing more exhilarating than working at a bookstore.
Seriously. It's one of those places where you just don't want to blink, in case you miss something. Because that would be really tragic...
I am kidding, by the way.
Bored into a dust-filled insanity, I slumped over the counter. It was two in the afternoon and the shop was as empty as a Rob Lowe film fest post "the incident."
I drummed my nails on the wood countertop, tracing the frame jadedly.
The Second Time Around Bookstore – or STAB, as I like to call it – wasn't exactly the most popular joint in town. God knows I'd never noticed it before mum had convinced me to work here in exchange for the new (okay, second after Jesse) love of my life: my car. Mr. and Mrs. Hughes, the owners, didn't exactly have the best range of books, either. I'd scanned the Young Adult section – it was only two shelves long and had only six books that were published later than 1990. And most involved girls with bad haircuts getting the football player with that helmet hair that never moves.
It was sad, really. I mean, it wasn't like no one came in here. It was just that whenever people did, they'd always browse dully, before raising their eyebrows at the limited variety and leaving with a sigh. Or they'd come and ask if we had Dan Brown's latest bestseller, only to be informed that we unfortunately did not. This would be greeted with an eye-roll, or a disappointed grimace.
Then they'd leave and not come back.
So yeah, we'd only had about four sales in the time I'd been here… since, like, eleven this morning. Sadly enough, this was Second Time Around on a good day. Usually, that would be the entire day's total if we were lucky. I mean, I'd only been working here for a week, and Mrs. Hughes assured me that it wasn't like this all the time; they were just going through a "rough patch" at the moment. I had a sneaking suspicion that this rough patch had lasted for the past two years or so.
Poor Mr. and Mrs. Hughes. They really were the sweetest of the old fuddy duddies ever. All wrinkly and cheerful and placid with their cute little old couple arguing and making up...
It was kind of heartbreaking. Because no matter how hopeful they'd sound whenever they asserted that "things would pick up," I knew it was going to take a miracle to get a place like this back on its feet.
But there wasn't anything I could do about it as much as I wished I could. Whenever their daughter Miranda, mum's friend, suggested they just sell the premises and go into retirement, the pair of them would get all fussy, with their objections that, 'Retirement is for old people, Miranda!'
I think they were joking, though. The pair of them were pushing eighty.
But anyway, getting back to the thrilling tale of me sitting alone in an abandoned old bookshop with no potential customers to speak of...
I was almost tempted to crack a book open and start reading I was so bored, but there was literally nothing that appealed to me. I know the whole 'don't judge a book by its cover' thing is probably something bookshop owners get all anal about, but come on. If you're going to commit yourself to a book, you at least want to have some incentive to read it. Books that aren't visually attractive get no points from me. Sorry.
Yeah, I'm really not the best girl for this job.
Just as I was staring mindlessly at the fraying Science-Fiction label on the corner of one of the shelf edge, a hideous creak of the door alerted me that someone had set foot in the store. I perked up, smiling widely and attempting to look momentously interested in my job. A boy of about fifteen had entered, glancing around nervously. His gaze fell on me, and he grinned weakly before – if I'm not mistaken – blushing furiously. He quickly escaped my view by diving into the Horror section.
I blinked. Um, okay. Way to be anti-social then.
After ten minutes, the guy emerged from Horror and awkwardly shuffled to the counter. I smiled welcomingly at him. 'Hello,' I greeted.
He half-smiled again, avoiding my eye. 'Uh…' he mumbled, before pushing five books onto the counter. I beamed. Today's best sale…
'So, do you like Stephen King?' I asked, seeing that all five books were by said author. As in, Carrie, Firestarter, It, Dreamcatcher and Insomnia.
'Yeah,' he said with some embarrassment, staring intently at the top book, Carrie. 'Do you read him?'
'I've cracked the ol' King-meister every now and then. He's got a way with the ol' scariness.'
'Yeah.' He laughed, finally looking up. I saw that, despite the fact he was a major geek – symptoms had manifested everywhere all over – he did have really pretty eyes. Almost girl-eyes... When he smiled, they looked even nicer.
'I'd love to work in a bookshop,' he said whimsically. 'But my mom doesn't want me to get a job until I've finished high school...she said I'm too non-confrontational and awkward. And that I'll – ' he stopped, and looked away.
'This really isn't a bad place to work, you know,' I said. 'I mean, if you like reading, no one ever comes in here and you can just read all day without anyone bothering you… No confrontation to speak of.'
His eyes literally started glittering. 'Really?'
I nodded with a casual grin, writing down the names of the books that I'd sold and calculating the amounts on my little calculator. 'Sure.'
This information pleased him greatly. 'I'm…I'm Robbie, by the way…'
I smiled, bagging his Stephen Kings. 'I'm Suze.'
'You don't go to RLS, right?' he frowned, looking hesitant.
I shook my head, 'JSMA.'
'Ah,' he nodded, 'I didn't think you went to my school…I would have recognized you. You're kind of hard to – '
He stopped abruptly, and once again his gaze fell to the floor furiously. 'Uh…I have to go,' he muttered, grabbing his bag of books. 'I told mom I'd only be five minutes – '
'All right,' I waved. 'Maybe we'll run into each other again sometime. Or maybe you can ask your mom about getting a job here or something. I could use the company – I'm the only girl employee who hasn't yet gone through menopause.'
Robbie laughed again, this time very unexpectedly. But he cut his laugh off very quickly. 'I really need to go,' he apologized, backing away. Before I could say a farewell, he'd scuttled out of STAB, his face a furious crimson behind his pale freckles.
Smiling at his endearing awkwardness, I sat back at my station boredly, wondering if I'd get another customer before my shift was over.
Probably not...
Robbie's sale was probably going to keep STAB in business for another month – his purchase had totaled to fifty dollars.
An hour passed slowly with only a six year old and her dad breaking the monotony of nothing. The girl looked rather scared and stood nervously behind her dad's leg when I tried to wave. Her dad checked out the kid's section before demanding if this was all the children's books we had. I replied that it was, and he grumbled rather rudely. The girl began pointing at a book, smiling, but her dad whispered loudly that it had dirt on the cover, and he told her not to touch it. I stopped smiling.
He left quite shortly, muttering irritably that the shop was a hole.
I glared fiercely at the door, very angry at the nerve of some people.
I screamed after them with a last ditch effort to save a customer with, 'but they'll appreciate in value! It's a speculator's market right now!' I then shrugged half-heartedly at the sight of a new lost customer.
Half an hour later, the door creaked open. I was resting my head in my arms. I knew I should have looked up to show that I was an attentive shop assistant, ready for transaction...but it was probably some cranky fart who'd by all peeved over some stupid little thing.
I blinked blearily against the skin of my arm, yawning.
However, when a warm finger traced down my neck, I jerked up with a shock.
I stopped furiously. 'Go away,' I hissed.
Paul looked rather offended. He was mocking me, of course. 'Now, Suze,' he chastised with a smirk. 'I could have been a very serious customer, and your unattractive hostility could have made me want to take my business – and my wallet – elsewhere.'
'And your three inches of manhood,' I scowled.
'More than your corpse of a boyfriend has,' he smirked, with some traces of annoyance.
'The sign out front says that no animals are allowed in the store,' I snapped.
He grinned. 'Ouch. Someone forgot her Midol today.'
I glared. 'Paul, please. You're only here to bug me. Seriously, I'm not in the mood. You already see me enough at lessons – I don't want to have to put up with you at my place of work too. Besides, as a business, we reserve the right to refuse any customers. And that includes trash like you!'
By now, Paul was ignoring me. He was looking around the shop with a faint look of disgust. 'I've said it before,' he sneered delicately. 'This place is a real dump, Suze.'
'It's not,' I said defensively. 'It has…classic Olde Worlde Charm.'
He snorted. 'Also known as mold.'
I shot him a really filthy look, before getting off of my chair and making to stalk to the Staff Only room, when he hurried around and grabbed my elbow, preventing my escape.
'Hey,' I spat, 'You're not allowed to manhandle me here.'
'Then let's go somewhere where a man can handle you,' he suggested.
'And now I know why they invented the restraining order. Thanks for the fun history lesson, Paul the Small.' I proceeded to suggest something to him, involving my step-brother Brad, a motel and a video camera. He just continued to look all smug.
'Listen,' he muttered, leaning over the counter, his hand still imprisoning my poor elbow. 'Just stopped by to ask if you wanted to fit in a shifting lesson now.'
'I haven't finished my shift,' I said coldly. 'And we already had one yesterday. I've had way too much of you for my own good already.'
'Well, I haven't had enough of you yet,' he replied, 'And when you consider what our deal involves, that's all that really matters, doesn't it? So, should I not ask this time, and tell you we have a shifting lesson now? It's not like anyone's going to come in within the next hour, Suze...why do you even work here?'
'My parents got me a car,' I said stiffly. 'I need to pay them back.'
He looked scandalized. 'And you're working here?'
'It's…more of a favour,' I said uncomfortably. I was well aware that five dollars an hour was not going to pay my car off very quickly. But you know, not ALL of us are just handed brand new silver Beemers. SOME of us have to work for our little cars. You takes what you gets when youse gets it, I always believe.
But he didn't need to know that. I'd told him I earned eight fifty an hour last time he'd asked me. He hadn't looked entirely convinced, however.
Finally letting go of my elbow, he took a step back. With a bored sigh, he looked around, his hands jammed in the pockets of his navy blue jacket. It looked really good on him. But then, I've been told the devil looks good in anything he wears. It's kinda his shtick. 'So...does your little bookstore have anything that'd interest me then?'
I pointed sassily. 'Self-help books are over there. We have a lovely one on coming to terms with your secret desires to be a woman.'
He sneered. 'Funny.'
Wandering around with a look of arrogance smeared across his chiseled face, he called, 'If you're really worried about money, I can just give it to you, you know. You don't have to waste your days in this shit heap. You can tell your mum you do…ass wiping for my grandfather, or something that she'll buy.'
Revolted by this idea – the prospect of being with him, more so than even wiping his grandpa's hiney – I said a very forceful, 'Sorry Paul, can't buy me for twenty pieces of silver.'
Spending even MORE time with him? Oh my God. He had to be kidding.
He chuckled, still scanning the shelves. 'It was just a suggestion. I guess it pains me to see you working in a place like this. Especially when your time could be better served elsewhere. You have 'kept woman' written all over you.'
I glared at him. 'Whatever. I make my own way in the world, Paul. I don't want to rely on anyone, you least of all.'
He turned away from the book shelf. 'Hey! You'd be working. I'd pay for you to shake it for me,' he said firmly, a humorous glint in his eye.
'Eww,' I wrinkled my nose. 'Of course you would. You're a delusional loser obsessed with what he can't have.'
His eyes became hard again and he disappeared behind the bookshelves.
'Suze,' his voice was sharp, 'This store is a joke. There's nothing here. It's just a bunch of eighteenth century crap that's only fit to line a compost bin. Can you honestly say that you don't agree this business isn't about to toss it in? The word "business" used very loosely, of course.'
I slanted my eyes at him.
It's one thing to insult me, but to insult the BOOKS!
That was just a step too far. Picking on innocent books like that…
I sucked it up though. Through gritted teeth I snarled, 'would you just go?'
'Thought so,' he sounded amused as his voice carried over the shelf. 'You really should – '
But whatever I really should have done, I never discovered because he stopped talking completely. My forehead wrinkled in confusion. He hadn't had a heart attack or something, had he? Because while everything screamed 'Karma!' I didn't want to have anyone die on my shift. That'd look so bad on my résumé.
'Paul?' I called uncertainly, unnerved by the fact that he'd just stopped talking.
I heard a tiny gasp from where I assumed he was still standing. It was as if something had deeply impressed him. Very curious now, I left the counter. 'What are you d – '
The book he was holding open in one of his hands was suddenly snapped shut. I blinked.
His eyes snapped up to mine. 'I might make a purchase after all,' he said smoothly.
I held my hand out. 'I have to write down the title and the number,' I said. 'I need it for a second – '
'Oh, I'm sure you can skip that bit...' he said with a charming smile, before removing his wallet from his pocket, and sliding a crisp hundred dollar note into my hand. 'Keep the change, Simon.'
My eyebrows shot up. 'Um, that's really not necessary…' I started mumbling, but he'd already swept past me, the book under his arm. 'I'll see you tomorrow, Suze.'
Then he was gone.
Very confused as to what exactly had just happened, I stared at the swinging door until it became still. It took a while, since Paul had shot out so hurriedly, trying to cover the title of the book.
What had he bought? And why was he so determined to hide it from me? I mean, it was just a book, right? What was the big deal about keeping the title a big secret?
How weird...
It's just that he'd been so intent on a shifting lesson. What was it about the book that had suddenly made him forget all that?
With a start, I realized that my shift was over. This was further confirmed by the sudden presence of Mr. Hughes. 'Susie,' he said cheerfully, walking in from the back door, jangling his keys. I gritted my teeth a little, hating being called that more than anything. 'How did you go today?'
'Um,' I said, 'Pretty good...' I held up the hundred that was still clutched in my hand. 'Last sale.'
Looking positively delighted, Mr. Hughes jumped a little. 'Oh gosh! Susie, I think you may have been the best choice we ever made.'
I didn't mention that he hadn't actually chosen me – that I'd been traded by my mother for slave labor.
Handing him the money, I asked, 'Do you want me to stay a little longer?'
He shook his head fiercely. 'Oh, of course not…you've been here for a great long time. A young thing like you needs to get out of a stuffy old place like this... go on, dear.'
Mrs. Hughes came up behind him just then. 'Pretty girl like you. Bet you have a boyfriend to go meet.'
I smiled sneakily. 'Well, I do…'
Her face lit up. 'Oh! I knew it! Such a sweet girl like you. Couldn't imagine a world without boys falling over themselves for you.' I give those two this: they sure are the sweetest people in the whole wide world. What with the flattery and all. 'I bet he's quite handsome.'
I smiled. 'He is.'
'Oh!' Mrs. Hughes clapped. 'You simply MUST bring him around here sometime. I'd love to meet him.'
Suddenly, my throat caught. As much as I'd love to, I couldn't bring Jesse around the shop. Well, I could technically… but I'd be the only one to see him.
Crestfallen, I nodded gently. 'He works a lot right now, so I don't know if I can.'
Mrs. Hughes frowned. 'Oh, that's too bad. I'd love to meet him and fret over him and all that.'
'Yes, well, I best go.'
I smiled, and grabbed my bag before leaving with a polite wave and a chorus of 'goodbyes.'
Poor Mr. and Mrs. Hughes…it was truly going to break my heart when Second Time Around had to close...
-F&I-
Having parked my Bug in my designated parking spot – well, okay, stealing Brad's space, but whatever – I crawled up into my room tiredly. I don't know why I get so tired after work. I mean, I do have to stack and shelve books a lot… maybe that's it, that and the lack of customers to attend to can drain you too.
Plus, a visit from Paul Slater doesn't exactly instill a lot of energy in me.
And neither does reminding me that as much as I love and adore my boyfriend and his affections… I'd never be able to show him off to Mr. and Mrs. Hughes. Which is a shame. Jesse would love them. And I know he'd have a coronary of geeker joy at the stacks upon stacks of old musty books, the big old nerd that he is.
I decided to go for a half-hour run along the beach before I finally retired back to my room and drowned myself under a waterfall of steaming heaven. When I was done with my shower, I blow-dried my curly fuzz and slipped into some boxers and a singlet top. Not my mum's preferred attire for me at dinner time, but screw that. It's summer, and this working gal is tired. And I mean working girl in the 1980's Melanie Griffith movie sense, not in the prostitute sense.
Flopping onto my bed and awaiting Andy's dinner yodel, I shut my eyes and stretched. Maybe I'd just watch a movie tonight...
The thing I don't like about the summer is that I tended to have very little to do. I mean, I'd only ever had one job before – the Pebble Beach babysitting gig…what a disaster that turned out to be… - and that had taken up a lot of my time. Now, I had STAB, constant shifting lessons with Paul, and then, Jesse-Time. But when he wasn't around, which Father Dom tried to limit as much as he religiously could, I was always stuck for things to occupy me.
So it looked like it was going to be a video, then.
I lugged my butt back outta bed and dragged Doc to come and grab some flicks with me from the video store. I ended up getting like, ten – eight of which were violent.
When we got back, dinner was on the table and I got ranted at for "cutting it to close." After assuring Andy that I'd never be two point three seconds late for dinner ever again, we all sat down and stuffed our faces with roast beef and veggies.
Finally, I carted my lovely stack of movies up to my room before flopping sleepily on the bed.
Maybe the movie thing wasn't such a necessity…because sleep sounded oh so sexy at the moment...
However, my plans were thwarted by my mother screaming, 'SUZE. PHONE.'
I rolled over lazily and picked up the extension. 'Hello?'
'Hey, Suze – babe...you up for a quickie?' an extremely comical attempt of a suave voice began.
'Hey Adam,' I smiled. 'And no, I'm quite occupied with the eight male Italian exchange students in my bed. They don't speak a word of English. But we understand the language of love.'
He moaned sadly. 'Those damn Italians beat me to it again. I will have my vengeance! No, worse… a vendetta. Them Italians understand that, eh?'
I laughed. 'So, what you want then?' I asked. 'Other than to sexually harass me over the phone. Which you know I don't mind, but as I said, quite tied up at the moment. Pun intended.'
'Just wanted to know if you wanted to meet up at the Coffee Clutch? My green Bug misses your aqua Bug. He's all mopey. He hasn't got laid in a while, and its getting him down. I thought they maybe while we drink coffee, our Bugs could bonk. Buggy style.'
Aww, I loved Adam...
I mean, did you even GET that mental picture?
I sighed. 'Adam, while I honestly feel for any sexually frustrated individual – machinery or otherwise – I'm kind of tired tonight.'
'Yeah, those damn Italians do that to ya.'
Grinning, I replied, 'Can CeeCee go?'
Sounding disappointed, he muttered, 'Nope. She's going out for her Aunt Pru's birthday. She wouldn't let me come…said I'd laugh too much. I could have really used the comic relief.'
'That sucks,' I agreed. 'I'm sorry I can't come out. You can come over if you really want – I'm just chucking on a movie –'
However, the sound of materialization made me change my mind hastily.
' – I...I mean, if you really want to sit though Sleepless in Seattle.'
This didn't have the intended effect. 'I love that movie!'
WHAT? That was supposed to be the no-fail anti-guy movie!
'Did I say Sleepless in Seattle? I meant…um...'
'Querida?'
I spluttered a helpless, 'Tomorrow night, I swear!' into the phone, before hanging up and whirling around. 'Jesse!'
He frowned. 'I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were talking into the phone…you did not have to stop on my account.'
'You thought I was talking to myself,' I wrinkled my nose. 'That's flattering.'
'I have no doubt that you're sane,' he smiled. 'Well, sometimes.'
I gave him a look, before getting off of my butt and running over to give him a hug. He returned my embrace with a surprised laugh. 'Yes, I missed you too, Susannah…'
I pulled my face away from his chest and looked up at him. Ever since that shifting lesson with Paul yesterday, I'd been nervous that he'd try to do something to Jesse. I mean, he made himself sound so capable of it. It was scaring me a little.
'I love you,' I told him, kissing his neck softly.
Perplexed, he returned my declaration with a nice, 'I love you too,' whilst stroking my hair. But then he got a little shifty eyed. 'Are you all right?'
I nodded, still kissing his neck. Oh yes, I know how to distract MY man.
He sighed, and both of his hands slid to my arms as he brought me in front of his face to fix me with an inscrutable gaze. 'Susannah, what's wrong?'
Damn. Maybe I should go for ear nibbling…
I blinked. 'Um. Nothing.'
'You're not a very good liar.'
'I am so!'
'Not to me,' he replied. 'I can always tell.'
I stared at him, wishing that I could tell him what was on my mind.
But let's review:
Jesse knew NOTHING about my letting Paul tutor me in the art of shifting. And judging from yesterday's lesson, I was pretty sure that both things would have seriously worried Jesse. I mean, I SO did not want to learn about ghost torture. That was sick and cruel and TOTALLY not my style. I mean, yes…I do use a little force when pissed off. But that's only in extreme circumstances (or if the ghost is a real wanker.)
Actually putting effort into learning various methods on how to make my dead charges truly suffer? Negative cool, peoples. That's going into the realms of sadism. I mean, my fisticuff tendency is purely self-defense. Okay, and poor anger management. Heat of the moment stuff. Learning ghost torture is calculated. Pre-meditated.
And I don't care what Paul threatens, there's no way I'm going to get involved with the dark stuff. Because Paul's living proof that there's pretty much no going back.
So yeah. Jesse didn't know a thing of this. Well, besides from the Paul-is-evil bit. But that was pretty common knowledge. Only, since he was such a good lie detector when it came to me, I couldn't just pretend that everything was right dandy, because he could apparently see right through that.
Why couldn't I get cool unreadable eyes like his? All mysterious and shadowy and I-have-my-big-bad-secrets-y? Especially when I REALLY needed said eyes?
'Um,' I stammered, 'It's nothing really...I'm just – er…' I shrugged. 'Worried about work. I mean, the place is totally going to go under within a matter of months and I don't know if I could handle Mr. and Mrs. Hughes's sadness if that happened because they totally don't deserve to have an unsuccessful business because they are some of the nicest – and oldest – people I know and it really sucks that I can't do anything to help!'
'...Not a word,' Jesse shook his head.
'Huh?'
'The speed at which you talk never ceases to stun me,' he commented.
I gave him a bashful look. 'Shut up.'
He looked around. 'So…what have you planned for tonight? Seeing as you had to cancel your outing with your friend on the telephone…'
I slid my arms around his neck and grinned. 'I planned to spend some quality time with you, actually. But if you have other plans – '
Jesse rolled his eyes. 'Susannah, I'm dead. What better things would I have to do than be with you? Eat spaghetti? Scare the novices at the rectory? All right, actually, that is fun… But, you understand my meaning.'
'Excellent answer,' I replied cheerfully, dragging him towards the bed. 'Do you wanna watch a movie?'
I'd recently introduced Jesse to the art of television, and he found himself to be most enthralled. From what he'd seen, he liked most of the movies that I hated, like Saving Private Ryan – for the obscene amount of violent war scenes, eww – and Godfather- which I appreciate for the cinematic value, but I – not being a man in his 20's- do not understand why making cold blooded killers have honor is entertaining. We did have a mutual love of Pirates of the Caribbean, however. Of course, Jesse pointed out any historical inconsistencies that he noticed, but otherwise he said he was most impressed with its costuming and its realistic portrayal.
Oh yeah, and he peed himself when Johnny Depp was all urgently, "But why is the RUM gone?"
Sigh...I love my boy.
I can't wait until the second one is NetFlix-able so we can snuggle up together and watch it. I've purposefully resisted CeeCee's attempts at bringing me to the theater so I could watch it with Jesse.
I mean, I COULD go to the theater and Jesse could come with… but… how would that look? Me sitting there alone, my head resting on his shoulder? Especially since, to everyone else it'd look like I was resting my head on nothing. And plus, knowing the movie's popularity, someone might even try to sit in Jesse's spot.
So in any case, Jesse was eager to watch another movie. I asked if he wanted to see another movie with Johnny Depp in it, and he didn't actually realize that actors appeared in more than one movie. This puzzled him deeply, in fact, causing him to adopt the most adorable look of confusion. I wanted to kiss him right there and then...
After settling on Sleepy Hollow, we curled up on my bed. It wasn't exactly the most romance-inspiring movie on the planet, but Jesse seemed to enjoy it way too much. I was starting to worry that he was developing his first ever celebrity crush on Mr. Depp, the way he was raving about him. By the time the movie ended, Jesse was grinning like a kid who'd just been given a really big ice cream.
The man loved his blood and guts movies. I'd been saving Evil Dead 2 for a special occasion; couldn't spoil him TOO soon.
'Can we watch another?' he asked eagerly, 'These are truly remarkable. And highly entertaining. I could almost watch these for hours…'
I was NOT letting my honey become a fat couch potato.
I smiled gooily at him. He really had the cutest grin on his face, all excited and shiny and enthusiastic. It gave him youth that I hardly ever saw. I always thought of Jesse as very wise, well beyond his years…which I guess he was, since he was like, one-hundred-and-seventy-something. But now, he looked his age…he looked as if he was catching up on some of the life he missed out on.
Even though he was still very dead.
He just didn't look it. Not when he was grinning like that.
I yawned a little. 'Sure….do you want another – '
His grin faded a little. 'Dios – you're tired, Susannah.'
I shook my head quickly. 'Oh, me? No, I'm fine...do you want another scary one? Not that Sleepy Hollow was scary, exactly...more funny how people kept randomly getting decapitated – '
'I shouldn't have stayed this late,' Jesse fussed, starting to get up. 'It isn't proper.'
I pulled him back down, though. 'Oh, proper shmopper. Hey. Seriously, Jesse, I don't mind. If I fall asleep, then so be it.'
I just didn't want him to stop grinning so happily.
I also didn't want him out of my grasp. Not when Paul was making hardcore threats like he was.
'But – '
'Shhh!' I scowled at him, getting up and inserting From Hell, another Johnny Depp movie, into the VCR.
I than returned back to Jesse and snuggled up close to him, my head resting on his shoulder. He responded dutifully (I had him trained well) by wrapping his arm around me.
And without warning he turned to look down at me with that same giddy-kid-in-a-candy-store-smile. Did I tell you how beautiful you look today, querida?'
I blushed. 'Hmph. You really are a charmer sometimes, you know that De Silva?'
He brought my head closer in the crook of his shoulder. I closed my eyes and savored the feel of his body curled up next to mine. I took my arm and wrapped it around his chest nicely. God… I loved the way he felt.
He gently stroked my face with his thumb, before lowering his lips to mine and kissing me slowly and softly and – unfortunately – briefly.
'Hmmm…' I moaned, tiredly. 'Who told you to stop? That was nice and unexpected.'
He leaned back down against my bed and shifted me around so I was lying comfortably on his chest.
It's amazing how nice a pillow Jesse's rock hard tasty abs were. I snuggled deeply against them, just breathing.
Well, as promised, I didn't last very long. It was only about fifteen…maybe twenty minutes into the movie when I passed out. But the moments before sleep took me captive, oh God how rewarding they were.
I heard the TV shut off.
'Goodnight Susannah,' was the last thing I heard as Jesse kissed my head and pulled me into a more tight embrace and stroked my hair. 'Sleep well.'
Snuggled up against the man I loved more than anything in my life, feeling his arm wrapped around me as my face slowly settled against his warm chest…
…I was so, so happy.
Although, this happiness would be short lived. I didn't know it then, but bad things were beginning to happen. Bad things that I couldn't have seen coming.
Bad things involving Paul Slater…
-F&I-
