Affaire De Coeur
.o.
So I got completely carried away with flashbacks in this chapter, making this chapter mostly past, not present, but I hope you'll enjoy it.
.o.
"You mean the present?" Ryan asks, clearly confused by Eugene's words.
"Nope," Eugene says with a wink in my direction. "This here's the future."
.o.
Ryan arrived at my house at exactly eight o' clock on New Year's Eve. We were going to a party at the Hilton Hotel in New Mexico that a wealthy girl in our class named Bridget Bennison was having.
I stood waiting for him in the foyer of my home and I watched through the peephole as he scaled up the walkway to my front door. He looked absolutely stunning in a dark brown suit and skinny maroon tie. Every inch of him was perfectly put together except for his hair which was still damp from his shower and was drying all over the place in the sexiest bed head style that you could possibly imagine. As he drew near, I stepped sharply away from the door.
I waited, holding my breath, for him to ring the doorbell, for this night to begin. I was both nervous and excited. Who knew what would come out of this evening? Nothing else had happened in the last week except for the mistletoe kiss. But under such a romantic and careless night as New Year's Eve, I was both wishing something would happen, and at the same time wishing something would not.
He rapped at the door briefly and before he could ring the bell, I swung the door open.
"Gabriella," he said rather formally. We had been a little awkward around each other since the kiss. I could tell that Ryan felt positively awful about it, especially now that he and Troy were good friends. But he hadn't been calling me Ella. And it was killing me.
"Ryan," I said just as stiffly. He tugged at his tie in a nervous manner and held out his arm. I took it graciously. It would be the first time we had touched in days.
He walked me to his car and tucked me into my seat before returning to his, as he always did.
We drove in silence for a few minutes and then I could not stand it anymore. "Ryan?"
"Mhmm," he replied, eyes steady on the road, all of his focus on driving.
"I miss you."
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? I'm right here."
"But you're not," I said softly. "This whole week, you haven't been here. I feel like we're complete strangers. The way you look at me, it's like you don't even know me. You don't make jokes. You don't touch me."
"You know I want to touch you," he said quietly, still not looking at me.
Taken aback by his honesty, I didn't say anything the rest of the drive.
.o.
A waitress in a teal apron prances up to the edge of the counter and places a shiny silver pot of coffee in front of Ryan along with an oversized coffee cup that appears to have his initials on it.
I laugh and take the coffee cup from in front of him, examining it. "You don't seriously have your own special cup?"
Eugene laughs along with me and Ryan blushes a light pink. "Eugene insisted not me," Ryan claims childishly.
"The boy speaks the truth," Eugene says with a grin. "I got sick of him downing the cup in five seconds so I sent him to a pottery class and told him to construct his ideal coffee cup."
"And I felt like a complete idiot taking time out of work to go construct said cup in a suit and tie," Ryan says with an embarrassed laugh.
I smile and take in the image of Ryan at a pottery wheel, sleeves pushed up, fair skin covered in gray clay, a look of determination on his face, maybe even the tip of his tongue poking out. It paints a rather adorable picture.
Ryan pours a generous amount of coffee into his mug and takes a long drink.
While Ryan is absorbed in his coffee, I catch Eugene staring at me, and I wonder why he has such a far off look on his gently smiling face.
.o.
We arrived at the Hilton by 8:30. Bridget stood at the door, greeting her guests in a black frock that looked completely fabulous on her. Looking down at my midnight blue dress, I felt plain in comparison.
Ryan held my arm gallantly as we walked up the steps towards the entrance to the hotel.
"Gabriella," Bridget said faux sweetly. The girl had never liked me. Ever since the fourth grade for some reason. I had never really figured out why.
"Ryan!" she said warmly. "I'm so glad you could make it." She did that stupid flirty smoldering of the eyes as if she thought he was the hottest boy alive. Which in my book he was, but I never knew that Bridget thought so. And truthfully it made my blood boil.
She touched his arm and giggled. "You have fun in there. And save a dance for me, maybe even a-" she whispered the rest into Ryan's ear, her lips practically on his ear.
He blushed a little and grabbed my hand, yanking me inside before he could fully become red in front of her.
"What did she say?" I asked as nonchalantly as possible but with a hint of desperation I'm sure.
"Why do you want to know?" Ryan asked a little frostily, but a little teasingly as well.
"I don't particularly want to. Just curious. That's all," I said as I smiled at a boy in my math class as we walked through the halls of the hotel heading who knows where.
"More like jealous," Ryan replied, with a grin. I didn't know if the smile was for me or someone passing by us in the hall. I hoped it was for me.
"Yeah right," I scoffed, forcing a laugh.
Ryan continued to grin off into space and I wanted to know what he was thinking, what was so funny, wonderful, amazing! I wanted nothing more than to know what she had said to him.
"Where are we going?" I asked impatiently. He was still dragging me around through halls and up flights of stairs.
"To where the main party is," Ryan replied. "Bridget is holding all the main festivities in the big ballroom on the top floor."
Bridget. Argh. With her perfect little nose, and her long silky red hair and her money. Bridget's parents were as rich, maybe even richer than the Evans. And I was already imagining Bridget and Ryan getting married and having perfect little red-haired, blue-eyed children. Ironically enough, half of my biggest nightmare would come true in a matter of a few years.
.o.
The waitress comes skipping back up to us, a small yellow lined pad in her hand and gives a real big smile. She must be new to New York. Not so many people are so happy and cheerful as her. It's rather refreshing.
"Hi, I'm Lucy. What can I get you this morning?" she asks in a sing-song voice.
Eugene gestures towards Ryan and I as if to say he doesn't care for anything and we should order.
"I'll have an English muffin with strawberry jam," I tell Lucy with a polite smile.
Ryan orders a ginormous stack of blueberry pancakes and Lucy grins and nods, skipping back into the kitchen to place our orders.
Eugene suddenly turns towards Ryan and asks, "Would you mind if we spoke for a minute? Privately?"
Ryan frowns and looks over at me as if he's angry that Eugene is trying to dismiss me. I smile graciously and hop off of my stool. Whatever Eugene has to say it must be important. And it must have something to do with me. I am of course intrigued. I want to know what he's going to say. But I leave. What else can I do? "Go ahead. I'll just move over here." I pat Ryan's right hand that rests on the counter top and walk over to the grand piano, settling myself on the shiny bench.
.o.
Ryan flung open the doors to the large room and it was complete chaos. The room was dark but bright colored lights shone and spun around the space like a disco ball. Loud music pumped from every corner of the room and food and drinks were everywhere. A huge screen had been hung upon the back wall and whatever channel they were showing Times Square on was displayed upon it. People were everywhere, standing, sitting, kissing, dancing, hugging, eating, drinking. The party looked fantastic and I hated Bridget for making it so fantastic.
Ryan led me over to a red sofa and we both sunk into it.
"Ryan, please tell me," I said quietly.
He laughed and finally looked me in the eyes. They were dark, full of pleasure and mirth. I preferred it to the sad eyes he had displayed all week. "Gabriella, for once you are jealous and quite frankly I am going to enjoy it."
I pouted my lips and sunk down low in my chair. Tell me! I wanted to screech at him. But more than that I wanted to scream. MY NAME IS ELLA!
"Fine," I said petulantly. "But I'm not going to just sit here and let you revel in it."
Ryan chuckled. "I didn't expect you too."
I glared at him, leapt off the sofa, and started to stalk towards the drinks table. I didn't get very far alone.
Ryan was soon beside me. He wrapped an arm around my waist as we walked as if I belonged to him. I couldn't believe him. After all this awkwardness and then him not telling me what Bridget said, he was seriously here holding me like I was his. I shrugged away from him and grabbed a soda, popping it open and taking a short swig.
Ryan, with a look of amusement upon his face, seemed not at all miffed by my moving away from him. He chose a can of cream soda, cautiously opened it, and took a long, luxurious drink causing my eyes to watch his gleaming white throat and his Adam's apple bob up and down. He was so evil. He knew how attractive his neck was and here he was just showing it off like..like some cocky fool.
"I," I began furiously. "I…I hate you!" I hissed.
He smiled roguishly. "I love you."
I made a rather annoyed noise and stomped towards the one place he couldn't follow me to. The ladies room.
.o.
I stare down at the glossy keys and try not to look back at them. I mean if they caught me spying; how embarrassing. But I really wanted to know what Eugene was saying to him.
After a minute, I could hardly stand not knowing. I slowly turned my head to the side and glanced back at the pair of them, sitting at the counter. Ryan's eyes looked sad, but the words coming out of his mouth were rapid and angry it seemed. It looked as if he were spitting the words out of his mouth.
I couldn't see Eugene's face but he seemed calm and at ease.
Their actions just puzzled me further and I wanted to fling my head on the piano keys dramatically and send the harsh and frustrated sounds all over the café.
.o.
I flung myself on the fancy settee in the middle of the restroom and huffed.
"You look peeved," Bridget said sarcastically as she turned away from the mirror and smiled graciously as if she loved that I was angry. She walked over and sat down beside me.
"I am," I said insolently. "He's such an ass."
"Ryan?" she questioned, her eyes sparkling at the mere mention of him.
"Yes. He's so… ARGH!"
"What did he do?" she asked inquisitively.
Well I couldn't very well tell her that most of it had to do with me desperately wanting to know what she had whispered to him and his REFUSING to tell me. "Oh he can just be so…withholding," I said choosing my words carefully.
"Really," Bridget said grinning. "Sounds like my kind of man." I swear she licked her perfect full lips.
"Oh he isn't," I said quickly. Too quickly.
She eyed me with a sense of amusement. "You're still with Troy aren't you?"
"Yes," I answered grudgingly. So what if I was?
"Where is he tonight?" she asked rhetorically as we exited the bathroom as if she sensed my more than friendly feelings towards Ryan and was warning me.
"So he waits for you by the water fountains," she whispered enviously into my ear before stalking off in the opposite direction.
I whipped around to find Ryan banging on the silver machine in frustration, his mouth poised above the spicket as he tried to drink from an invisible stream of water. He wasn't having much luck and he looked so god damn adorable that I was unable to stay angry a moment longer.
"What are you doing here?" I asked flatly.
"Well waiting for you to emerge from the ladies room, of course," he said with a crooked smile. "I don't really need this broken fountain to work," he added gesturing to the soda can that perched on top of the device.
"You're so…I don't know," I said bitterly unable to think of anything clever to say.
"Now you don't really hate me. Do you?" he asked with an impish grin. "Because that would make me loving you a bit ridiculous."
Where was all this coming from? All these suggestive smiles and l words being tossed around. It was so unlike him.
"Are you drunk?"
He laughed. "No. I'm just sick of repressing myself. Fuck Troy and his fucking feelings. He doesn't desire you like I do. He doesn't need-want-crave-yearn for you as I do. He doesn't love you like he should."
He stepped towards me and kissed my neck, his left hand pressing into the small of my back.
Barely able to concentrate, I managed to whisper into his ear between gasping breaths, "Do you want us to get caught?"
He removed his hand and his lips. "I'm sorry," he said.
I merely nodded, offering a forgiving smile and allowed him to lead me back into the ballroom.
.o.
After a minute or two, I hear someone walking towards me. Is it Ryan?
I whip my head around to find Eugene smiling broadly, ambling down the wooden floor, and heading my way.
Soon he is at the piano and sliding on to the bench next to me.
"So you're the infamous Ella?" he whispers into my ear.
"You're the one he truly loves. Honey, I've been on your side since forever," he continues much to my surprise.
.o.
We spent the rest of the evening eating, talking, and frantically trying to keep our hands off each other. Ryan had put us both in a lustful funk with that kiss and we were both positively squirming.
And then at 11:50, Bridget pranced up to us, wide smile on her face.
"Ryan, may I have this dance?" she asked flirtatiously, holding one thin golden hand out in front of him.
He graced her with a winning smile and accepted her hand. "I'll be right back," he whispered to me before following her into the middle of the ballroom.
How dare she! Stealing away Ryan ten minutes before midnight. Ryan and I were supposed to ring in the New Year together. Not that we could really ring it in appropriately what with the fact that millions of eyes would be upon us and well they all knew quite well where Troy and I stood. But still. That witch. I would now be forced to sit here, watch them slow dance for ten minutes and then look on as Bridget planted her bright red lips upon Ryan's as confetti shot out of the ceiling.
My fists clenched the fabric on the velvety red sofa cushion as I watched them slow dance in time to the music.
It seemed they danced forever. It was 11:53, 55, 56, 58.
My heart caught in my throat as the clock struck 11:59. I would be ringing in the New Year miserable and alone.
Sixty. Fifty. Forty. Everyone was chanting, counting down till midnight. But my lips couldn't move, I couldn't speak. I could only watch Ryan and Bridget dancing so beautifully together, a perfect fit.
Thirty. Ryan was speaking to her in a low hushed manner and her eyes were widening and gripping onto his neck tighter.
Twenty. He was looking apologetic and was begging with his eyes and her eyes were flashing with anger and she seemed defiant.
Ten. He dropped his hands from her waist.
Nine. He removed her hands from around his neck.
Eight. His eyes connected with mine.
Seven. Six. Five. Four. He pivoted, walking in my direction.
Three. He reached me and in one swift motion had me on my feet, standing in front of him.
Two. His eyes twinkled disobediently and apologetically at the same time as he pressed his body against mine.
One. His hands took hold of my face, his nimble fingers cool against my flushed cheeks.
Zero. His lips pressed against mine in the most dangerously delicious kiss.
And Bridget was left miserable and alone in the middle of the dance floor, watching us kiss. The only one watching us kiss luckily, as everyone else was too absorbed in his or her partner to notice.
But Bridget noticed. Oh did she notice. And when I opened my eyes and looked towards her, she wore the most disgusted look upon her face. You would of thought we were related or something the way her face turned pale and weary, as if she were about to puke all over her expensive little black dress.
.o.
So wow those were like the shortest present scenes ever. Lol But I had a lot of fun writing all of these ridiculously lengthy flashback scenes. I'm afraid the night isn't even over in Past New Years Land. I'm having too much fun. Hope you don't mind. I just can't seem to stop writing this story. Lol
