Chapter Four
She had heard of those pesky little proverbial birds and their incessant chirping, the after-sex glow all women were supposed to have the morning following a particularly entertaining night with a man, a glow that was supposed to seduce said man into another round in the shower, and the pleasant warmth and accompanying soreness members of her sex were known for feeling in muscle groups previously unthought-of let alone used properly, but Marissa had no idea those things would be so….good. For the first time in her life, she woke up with a man's arms wrapped around her nude body, his lips brushing tenderly across the nape of her neck, his ministrations sending whispers of pure passion and extreme contentment racing down her spine, his chest pressed intimately against her back so that when he breathed, she would swear she could feel the very life in his body being passed into her own, and his legs saucily entwined with hers, their feet occasionally wrestling for playful control. From that point on, their morning had just continued to get even better.
As the unlabeled couple stood patiently in the moving elevator as it carried them from their floor to the main level of the hotel, she couldn't help but go over the past few hours she had spent with Ryan. After making love outside on the patio by the pool, – and, yes, Marissa told herself, it was making love, because sex had been what she had experienced with Luke, and being with Ryan was nothing like that – she had fallen asleep in his arms, completely exposed to the world and feeling safer than she ever had previously in her life. By the time she woke up, they were in their room, and he was trying to figure out a way to help her into her pajamas without rousing her. For several minutes, she had remained lounging on the bed, her eyes greedily drinking in Ryan's form as he searched through her luggage for a nightgown, his cheeks burning crimson whenever his hands brushed against a piece of her lingerie despite the fact he had been as close to her physically and emotionally as a man could get a mere hour before, and, seeing his embarrassment made her want to be with him even more than she had the first time. So, she let him come back to the bed, undress her, and place the nightgown onto her body, all the while pretending to still be asleep just because she wanted to experience the feeling of him undressing her again before they made love for a second time.
And he had done just that – gladly. She had waited for him to slip into the bed beside her, and, as his hand came into contact with the silk of her pajamas when it gently skimmed her stomach, Marissa had directed him to move his attentions lower, her voice deep and husky with desire, until his rough, masculine fingers gripped the edge of the nightgown and whisked it off her already aroused body. So, in bed, the first and, in her opinion, hopefully not the last bed they had ever shared, Ryan had made love to Marissa slowly, decadently, adoringly, only to pull her against his quivering form when they were finished to hold her close and urge her exhausted body to rest, promising her in that one simplistically beautiful embrace that she could put her walls down for the night and he would protect her heart with his own.
Then the morning had arrived, a morning she had been dreaming of while asleep and dreading at the same time. While, on one hand, dawn would bring her back to Ryan, it could have also brought regret on his part, shattering her whole world. Lucky for her, all the morning brought was another round of intense, mind-blowing, tender love making in bed and an electrifyingly fast and hard quickie in the shower…just as all those romance novels had promised her at such a young age. Though it had happened later in her life than she had hoped, everything else about their relationship, in Marissa's eyes, was perfect. They had the instant attraction, the easy friendship, the comfortable, lighthearted banter and flirting, and the addictive, almost destructive physical chemistry.
So, when they walked into the dining room that morning, late, once again, for a planned event – breakfast with her class' former administrators – she had assumed the stares, whispers behind their backs, and giggles were because everyone there already knew about their late night liaison by the hotel pool and could tell by the sparkle in her eyes and the proud smirk on Ryan's face that there had been a repeat performance in their room…many repeat performances, and, embracing the attention and wanting to let everyone know she wasn't embarrassed, Marissa buried her head in Ryan's neck, kissed the underside of his jaw, and wrapped her arm just a little bit tighter around his waist, dropping her hand to possessively graze low against his hip. He seemed to like the attention, but, before he could reciprocate with his own similar, territorial grasp, Seth was at their side, dragging her by the arm towards the prohibited, 'no guests allowed' hallway that led to the kitchen. Ryan followed.
"Everyone knows," Seth whispered frantically, gesturing in a wide, distracted manner which was meant to indicate the room of people they had just left behind. Looking pointedly at her, he stressed, "and they know everything!"
"Oh, I doubt that," Marissa snorted, laughing slightly. Unable to contain her impish grin, she continued. "Remember, I was Luke's glorified whore for years, so I was definitely not a virgin last night, but Ryan showed me there were many things I didn't know, and I have a feeling most of those women out there with their cookie cutter relationships and country club existences have no clue either."
"That's nice," the wiry brunette grimaced, "a little bit of an over share, but bully for you. However, we're talking about two different things here, although your choice of words is somewhat appropriate."
"Is he always this neurotic and ambiguous," Ryan asked, sneaking up behind the former friends and letting his arms wind around Marissa's waist. She leaned back into his touch.
"Trust me," she teased, turning her head around to place a chaste kiss on his cheek, "this is Seth on a good day." Moving back to look at her childhood neighbor, she instructed, "just tell it to us straight. We're hungry," she ignored his mumbled 'I bet you are' before continuing, "and you know how cranky I get when I haven't had any coffee in the morning after a long night, and, trust me, Cohen, it was a long night."
"Fine," he agreed. "They know about you and Ryan, about this weekend, about…"
"I don't care what they think they know," she interrupted, pulling away from Ryan and grabbing his hand so he would walk with her back into the dining room, disregarding the panicked, worried expression in her friend's eyes. "What happens between us is our business, not theirs."
"But that's just it," Seth countered, trailing after them. "They know everything about what's happened between you guys." That got her attention, and she turned around to face the curly haired man. "From what I've been able to figure out, Luke got jealous and then he got pissed off after last night, and you know nothing good comes from that combination."
"Just spit it out," she demanded, suddenly worried. "What exactly did Luke do?"
"He had Ryan investigated, called in some favors with this P.I. he knows, and made him get out of bed last night to do a background check on him, and, what he found out, well, he's telling everyone who's willing to listen. I think he even had an announcement printed out in brail for that guy we went to school with who's both deaf and blind." When it appeared as if the news hadn't yet sunk in, he pressed. "Everyone knows that you hired Ryan to be your date this weekend, Marissa, that's he's an escort."
"No," she declared adamantly, both retreating from Seth as if his words were physically hurting her and pulling away from Ryan's arms at the same time. Tears instantly clouded her beautiful, blue eyes, eyes that had just minutes before been filled with nothing but joy and an excitement for life. "They don't understand," she whispered vehemently. "It's not like that; it's not that simple."
"I'm so sorry, Marissa," Ryan attempted to apologize, trying, once again, to offer her emotional solace and a source of comfort, but she shoved aside his arms as he went to hug her.
"Don't," she ordered, instantly bringing pain to his easy-to-read gaze. "Don't touch me."
Just as quickly as the hurt had entered his expression, it disappeared, turning his appearance into one of unfeeling ice. "Fine," he agreed. "If that's what you want, consider it done." With that, Ryan walked away from her, and, without even showing a single person in the large room he noticed them or their snickers, he disappeared through the doors and into the lobby, never looking back at the woman who had just so easily dismissed him.
"What are you doing," Seth asked her, harshly breaking through the guarded walls Marissa had erected around herself. He had watched the brief and cold interaction between the couple who had practically been walking on clouds when they had first appeared in the dining room and wondered how exactly his friend could control her emotions so easily, how she could hurt someone she so obviously cared deeply for. "Were you trying to push him away, because I have to hand it to you, you sure as hell…," but his reproach was cut off by a very indignant, extremely outraged, artificially apologetic Summer Roberts.
"You poor thing," the petite brunette lamented on her former classmate's behalf. "First, the love of your life dumps you just days before your wedding, and then the first man you trust after months of barely fighting off your depression tricks you into dating him, telling you he's a party coordinator when he's really a," her voice became lower, almost conspiratorial, "a male prostitute. I know people are saying that you hired him to be your date for the weekend so that you wouldn't be embarrassed about still being single after so long, but I don't believe it, and I told them that. I said 'Marissa's not that desperate, and, even if she was, her Mom would have set her up with someone. Julie Cooper would never let her daughter hire a man-whore.'" Without any notice of the shocked and fairly traumatized expression on Seth's face and the waves of palpable rage rolling off of Marissa, Summer continued. "Don't you worry though, I know exactly what you need. We'll take off this week, just you and me, and have a girl's retreat at a spa. A little wine, a little pampering, and a little fun with a masseuse, and you'll be as good as new. I know you and the…gigolo did something last night, because, honey, let me tell you, you've got the sex walk, but the best way to get over rebound sex is to just have another meaningless fling. Jean Paul, at the spa, he's been aiding me in this department for years, and I'm sure he'd be more than willing to help you out, too, once we explained the situation. He's very accommodating."
"Shut up," Marissa said calmly, slicing through the other woman's insulting digression. However, when the brunette went to say something else, to question the order, Marissa raised her voice and screamed the command again. "I said shut up!" Summer's only response was a mild squeak of surprised fear. As the tall blonde took a step closer towards her fidgeting opponent, a hush fell over the crowded dining room. "You're a hypocrite who doesn't understand basic human kindness, loyalty, or love. You take my personal relationships and twist them around to fit into some scandalous mold that better suits your own warped opinion of the world than what reality dictates. You'd rather imagine that I was a suicidal mess after I broke off my engagement to Luke instead of simply accepting the fact that maybe a woman doesn't always need a man in life, that I was not the type of woman to jump into a romance with the first man who appeared available. You'd rather make me out to be a naïve victim who was conned into spending a weekend with a man who is, according to your stuck up snobbery, beneath me instead of realizing that, yes, I did hire Ryan to be my date, yes, I was desperate to find someone because my Mother filled out my reservation for a couple, and, no, I don't regret spending this time with him, spending last night with him, and the reason you would rather ignore these things and not confront the truth is because, by admitting that I have violated the rules of polite society, you, by association, feel as if you've betrayed the social standards that dictate your life. But what truly disgusts me," Marissa continued, laughing - she was on a roll, enjoying the chance to finally speak her mind, and she wasn't going to stop until she had said everything she needed to – "is that what you do is worse than what Ryan does. Sure, I'll admit, it wouldn't be my first choice for him to be an escort, but, as he says himself, he's simply a companion for hire, a platonic companion, but you, you take advantage of your masseuse because he's simply a blue collar worker and expect him to sleep with you. After all," she seethed, "you're already on your back and he's already been paid, why not disrespect and violate him as well?"
"You make it sound as if I rape him!"
"Don't you," Marissa spit out. "Perhaps you don't use physical force, but you sure as hell use your money, your power, and your influence to make sure that he has no will of his own, no voice to say no, because you and I both know that if he did try to turn you down, you'd run to his boss, level some trumped up charges against him, and have him fired long before your new manicure even had a chance to dry." Moving towards the door to leave, she paused briefly and turned around the face the dumbstruck crowd. "Ryan and I might not be perfect," she admitted with a dismissive shrug, "but at least we don't lie to ourselves about who we are. We don't cheat on the people we claim to love," she glared at Luke before moving on, "we don't use other people with complete disregard for anyone else's feelings," she directed her second indictment at Summer, "and we don't judge a man before we get to know him," her final accusation was meant for the entire group watching her. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I suddenly seem to have no appetite."
With a saucily flip of her hair, Marissa pushed her way out of the room, never once looking back to see her former audience's reaction or waiting to find out if someone was following her, for she already knew that Seth, the only person in that room she wanted to ever see again, was just steps behind her.
"I've got to hand it to you, Cooper," he applauded with a genuine smile on his face, "that scene back there, it would have even made Sandy Cohen proud."
"No offense, Seth, but your Dad is the furthest thing from my mind right now."
"It's the eyebrows," the brunette mused understandingly. "It takes a unique woman to get passed them."
Ignoring his comments, she pressed, "I don't know what to do. Telling off a bunch of spoiled Newport princesses and their equally as judgmental male counterparts was easy, but getting Ryan to forgive me, yeah, not so much. Maybe he'd be better off without me. I mean, look at my track record, look at my family, look at what this town does to people. Ryan doesn't deserve that."
"Whoa, where is this defeatist attitude coming from? Where is that idealistic, all big eyes and freckles seven year old little girl who convinced me it was a good idea to hide underneath the service carts at the country club so we could sneak into the kitchen, steal the veal they were serving for dinner that night, and then throw it in the pool to protest the killing of baby cows?" His reminiscing of the past made her smile, so he continued. "What happened to the rebellious eighteen year old who turned our high school graduation into an anti-war, peace rally? I swear, the look on your Mother's face will haunt me in my dreams for the rest of my life." That memory garnered him a small peal of laughter. "And don't you think that I don't know about what you did in college. I've heard all about how you organized a campus wide strike to fight for better healthcare and benefits for the cafeteria workers, and you won. That Marissa Cooper, the girl who did those things, she always fought for what she believed in, so I guess the question is, do you believe in Ryan enough to fight for him?"
"You're a good friend, Seth," Marissa whispered emotionally, pulling her childhood playmate into a close embrace. "Thank you. I don't know how I'll ever repay you for everything you've done for me today, but thank you."
"You don't owe me anything."
"No, I do," she said. After a moment, she let go of him and stepped back only to smirk with mischief. "I'm going to set you up, and I have the perfect girl in mind." Before he could respond, beg her not to do any such thing, she had disappeared into an elevator and he was left standing in the middle of the lobby by himself. He knew that look on his friend's face; it eerily resembled her Mother's expression of impish scheming. No this blind date she had in mind was not a good idea, not a good idea at all. He was in trouble, deep, Grand Canyon-esque trouble.
\ \ \
"I didn't think you'd show up here." Ryan's tone was void of all emotion. "Your money's on the bedside table. I'm leaving now, making our contract null and void, and, since I'm the one breaking it, you get your money back." Without stopping his packing, he continued. "Besides, after what happened between us last night, there's no way I could take your money."
Tentatively, she took a step closer to him and beseechingly spread her hands out in front of her. In a shy voice, she asked, "what did happen between us last night?"
"I don't know, Marissa," he countered, angrily turning around to confront her. "Why don't you tell me, because what we shared meant something to me, and I thought I meant something you, too?"
"You do," she promised him, but he cut her off by slicing his hand through the air.
"Unless you can tell me exactly what you feel, don't say anything at all."
"So that's it," she choked on a sob. "You're giving me an ultimatum, do this or else?"
"After everything that's happened between us this weekend, I think I at least deserve the truth."
"Fine," she yelled, giving in. Immediately, her voice dropped to almost a whisper, and she looked down to play with her suddenly cold and clammy fingers. "I…I care about you."
"Not good enough." He pushed passed her, making his way towards the door, but she desperately reached out for his arm and attempted to hold him back. "Let me go, Marissa."
"No," she whimpered, the tears falling fast and freely down her pale cheeks. "I won't let you go; I can't."
Turning around, he asked her, "why not?"
"Because what we shared mattered to me, too," she admitted softly, her gaze burning into his and begging him to believe her. "Because you matter to me, and I know that if I let you walk out that door right now, you'll never look back, and I'll never see you again." Dropping her eyes, she stared at the front of his shirt, her fingers instinctively reaching out to play with the hem of it. The gesture was intimate, strikingly naïve, and Ryan could not walk away from her. "And I don't think I want to live my life without you in it."
His tone was softer, gentler than it was before. "You still haven't told me how you feel."
"I don't know, okay," she yelled, moving away from him. "I mean, how strong could my feelings really be? We've known each other for less than forty-eight hours." He remained silent, letting her work through her thoughts on her own but, nonetheless, wanting her to say the words he felt. "Sure," she admitted, continuing, "when you look at me, you make me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, like you will keep me safe and protect me from anything or anyone. When you touch me, it literally feels as if my skin is on fire, but it's a good burn, one that I've never felt before with another man, one that I've only just found but can't seem to stop thinking about or wanting all the time. And when you hold me at night in your arms, it feels like I've come home, but how am I supposed to make sense of these feelings? The only marriage I've observed closely was my parents', and it was not about love but mutual indifference and need. The only relationship I've been in myself was a disaster. Luke never loved me, and I know I never loved him, but, at the same time, I don't think I know what love is. What I do know is that I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay here with me for the rest of the day, I want you to take me home tonight and stay over, and I want you to want me, too. What I know is that I have never felt this way about anyone else before, and, while I also know I might be wrong and what I'm about to say is probably going to scare you away, I think," her voice trailed off as she took a deep breath to steady herself, only speaking again at a much more rapid pace, so quickly, in fact, that Ryan had a hard time understanding her. "IthinkImightbefallinginlovewithyou."
"That's all you had to say," he teased her, dropping his suitcase and crossing the room to gently take her in his arms. "Think of all the oxygen you could have just saved yourself if you would have just said that last statement first." Annoyed at his taunting, she went to free herself from his grasp, but he wouldn't let her. "Now, this is what we're going to do," he instructed. "You're going to repeat what you just said but much slower this time, and then I'm going to respond." Her displeased glare made him chuckle." I promise, it's a good response."
Rolling her eyes, she conceded. "I think I might be falling in love with you. There," Marissa challenged him, "happy now?"
"Very," he replied, cutting off her smart retort by placing a delicate kiss on her pursed lips. Pulling away, he admitted. "It's a good thing you feel that way, because I know that I'm falling in love with you, have been since the moment you presented your can't live with them, can't kill them without facing jail time mother quandary."
"Really," she questioned him, the tears pooling in her eyes contradicting her ecstatic smile illuminating her gorgeous face.
"Really," Ryan stated without any doubt. "Come here," he urged her, tightening his grip around her slight frame and pulling her into an intimate hug, and she buried her face into his neck.
"I'm sorry," she apologized profusely. "I've never really had anyone there to stand beside me during the bad times in my life, well, besides my Mom and sister, and I just reacted instinctively and pushed you away. I don't want to do that though, but I'll understand if you're mad at me or if I have to regain your trust or if…"
"Marissa," he interrupted her, bringing his hands up to delicately cup her face. "It's okay. Like you said, we've known each other for less than forty-eight hours; there's bound to be a few misunderstandings here and there and even a couple of fights. It's only normal when people are dating."
"We're dating," she asked him happily, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer to her so that she could rest their foreheads together.
"I've met your cats, I've driven your car, you've introduced me to your friends…well, friend, we've gone golfing together and out to fancy dinners, but, most importantly, we've also made love four times during the last twelve hours. If that doesn't constitute dating, I don't know what does."
"So then you're my boyfriend?"
"And you're my girlfriend," he agreed, dropping another whispering kiss across her lips, but, when she went to deepen it, he pulled away. "Now, though, we have to figure out what we're going to do."
"What do you mean what are we going to do? There's a beach party this afternoon, and I have a new bikini I think you might enjoy. It's black, the bottoms tie at my hips, and the top, well, let's just say that it leaves little to the imagination."
"You keep that up," he threatened her playfully, his voice a low, husky growl, "and we won't be going anywhere anytime soon." Clearing his throat, he continued, wrapping his arms around her neck as well. "No, but seriously, we don't have to stay. I mean, do you really want to spend the rest of your weekend with those people downstairs?"
"I want to spend the rest of my weekend with you, I want to go swimming with you, because I've heard kissing someone underwater is amazing, and I want to show everyone I went to school with that we're together and that their opinion of us doesn't matter."
"Then put that itsy-bitsy teeny-tiny bikini on," he ordered, giving her a light pat on her tempting derrière to get her moving. "And I'll get changed, too."
"Ryan," she hesitated in the doorway of the bathroom. "We're going to have to talk about some things, like where we go from here, telling my Mom…."
"We will," he agreed. "Today we're just going to have some fun, but, tonight, in bed, we'll talk."
"Okay, tonight." With that, she slipped into the bathroom to put her bathing suit on. However, Ryan couldn't help but notice that she left the door open, a sign of her complete trust, he realized, and, in that moment, he had never felt more content in his life. He had found the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he would do everything in his power to keep her at his side….forever.
\ \ \
"She looks happy," Summer announced, sitting down beside Seth on the blanket he was, at the moment, keeping from blowing away. "They both do."
"They are, so why don't you go and crawl back under the rock you came out of so that you don't do or say something to ruin it."
"Look, Steve," she hissed, turning around to glare at him beneath her overly large, designer sunglasses. "I didn't come over here to talk to you."
"It's Seth," he corrected her, "and why doesn't that surprise me?"
"You don't like me very much, do you?"
"To like you would imply that I would actually know you, and I don't. We went to school together for fifteen years if you include playschool, preschool, and kindergarten, and no matter how many times I tried to speak with you, you either ignored me or insulted me until the point where I realized you weren't worth my time."
"Funny coming from the boy who took his grandmother to his senior prom," Summer smirked at him.
"Hey, say what you will, but the Nana knows a thing or two about cutting a rug, and, even if she didn't, you already said you're not here to talk to me." Eyeing her closely, Seth ordered, "so why don't you tell me what you really want."
"I came over to apologize to Marissa."
"Well, aren't you worthy of sainthood now? I'd give you a bozo button, but, really, why waste the resources, and, as for the chest, Daddy already gave that to you."
"Do you know what," she huffed, standing up and, in the process, kicking sand across the blanket and onto Seth, "I'm about this close to pulling you up by those ridiculously girly curls of yours and kicking your ass, so either back off or I'll make you!"
"Hey, Seth," Marissa approached them, startling both the furious woman and the incredulous man she was preparing to attack. "Ryan said to tell you that he's ready for that barbequing lesson you offered him."
"It's been a pleasure verbally sparing with you, Roberts, but, next time," the gangly man quipped as he stood up, "bring your A game."
Marissa waited for him to disappear before turning back to Summer. "I didn't expect to see you on this side of the beach. There's clearly been a line drawn between Seth, Ryan, and I and the rest of the class. What do you want?"
"Listen, I'm not going to pretend that I understand your decisions, but I can respect them. You said some really harsh things to me this morning, and, despite how much it pains me to admit it, you were right. Before I start dumping on someone else's life, maybe I should reexamine my own." Taking a deep breath, she took her sunglasses off before continuing. "You and me," Summer gestured between them, "we're probably never going to be good friends; we're just too different, but that doesn't mean that we can't say hello when we see each other around town or share an affable conversation at the next reunion. What I'm trying to say," she changed directions, "is that I'm sorry. The things I said to you this morning, the things I said about Ryan, they were uncalled for, and I was wrong. I just hope there will be no hard feelings between us."
"Well, considering the fact that you're the only one who's been willing to risk being seen talking to me since my tantrum this morning, I think you've already proved you're a bigger, better person than the rest of those narrow-minded hypocrites. As for your apology, I accept it and offer one of my own. While I don't take back what I said," Marissa cautioned, "I do regret how I said it and where. You didn't deserve to be embarrassed in front of a room full of your friends, and I definitely could have been a bit nicer about the things I said." Putting her hand out, she offered the brunette a truce. "Can we just put this behind us and move on?"
"I'd like that," Summer agreed with a small smile, "but I should let you go, because, by the looks of things," she pointed down the beach towards a large grease fire, an alarmed Ryan, and a rambling Seth, "you're needed somewhere else. See you around, Marissa."
"You, too," the blonde agreed, nodding her head once before taking off down the beach. However, even after she left, Summer stayed behind, watching the three friends interact. She saw Ryan hastily close the lid to the grill before laughing at something Seth said and joining Marissa's side. While the self-proclaimed barbeque expert tried again to make them lunch, the smitten couple retreated, once again, back to the ocean to play in the water, dunk each other, and steal kisses whenever they felt no one was watching. After a while, Summer walked away and moved back up the beach towards the hotel with one thought on her mind: if Ryan could make Marissa that happy, perhaps it was time for her to find her own companion for hire.
