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not beta'd

Word Prompt: Crystal

Alec calls me while we're in the car, heading back up to the house. As usual, there's a ton of noise in the background, and it's difficult to hear him.

"What?" I repeat, plugging the opposite ear and shutting my eyes, as if sensory deprivation will help. "I can't hear you."

"I said sorry I didn't call last night. Phone died."

I decided to play the part of the nagging, worried girlfriend. Once familiar, it feels totally foreign to me now. "You could've used Felix's phone. Or someone else's. I was worried, Alec. If I didn't keep you updated on where I was you'd freak out."

"That's what Masen's for," he chuckles. What a liar. If that was the case, he wouldn't be keeping tabs on me via my phone. "He updates me. Anyway, I said I was sorry. Things got a little crazy."

"Business or pleasure?"

"Business, baby. Always business."

"Mhm."

"Anyway, I'll be back early tomorrow morning."

"You're staying down there?"

"I told you it would be a few days. Don't worry; I'm fine. Everything's good. Just trying to work a few kinks out."

"What kind of kinks?"

He laughs indulgently. "Don't trip. I'll tell you when I get home. Be good."

I wrinkle my nose, wondering when we went from equals to a sugar daddy and his little girl. Frankly, I think he watches too many movies, and spends way too much time with idiots that see themselves as larger than life. Everything he does is exaggerated, excessive. He's always had a flair for the dramatic, even in high school, but these days it's bordering on crazy.

But then I realize that he kind of is crazy. Coked up crazy.

"You listening?"

"What?" I say, dropping back into the conversation. "Sorry, couldn't hear again."

"I said put Masen on the phone!" he snaps.

"Fine." Without bothering to say goodbye, I thrust my cell at Masen, who's already got his hand out. He listens intently, muttering here and there, agreeing with whatever Alec's saying, and then hangs up. He gives me back the phone, shaking his head.

"Do you know what he's up to down there?" I ask.

"Drug deal. They're meeting with a new client. Someone interested in heroin."

Ugh. The thought if it definitely puts a stone in my stomach, but it's not surprising.

"Aro and Caius don't know about it," he adds, glancing at me.

"What?" I breathe, wide eyed. "Alec's doing this on his own?"

He nods. "He thinks that if he can secure the deal, he'll not only bring a flood of cash into the organization, but that he'll be able to set himself up for good."

"Money, power, respect," I say, shaking my head.

"Okay, Little Kim."

"What?" I giggle.

"It's a song. Nineties rap."

"Didn't know you were into nineties rap."

"I like the good stuff... but my older brother liked all the stuff."

"How old are you, anyway?"

"Twenty eight."

"Oh." I pause, a little surprised. I thought he was younger...not that twenty eight's old.

"How old is your brother?"

"Thirty three."

"You have other siblings?"

"I'm the youngest of four. All boys."

"Wow," I say. "I'm an only child."

He nods, smiling a little. "I know."

"Oh, you do?" I tease. "What else do you know about me?"

"Your birthday's September thirteenth. You're twenty three. You come from French and German stock. You were born in Phoenix, Arizona, but moved here to be with your dad when you were twelve. You were on honor roll in high school and participated in the National Honor Society, as well as held several offices in Student Government. You were accepted to several schools, including Stanford and Berkeley. I don't know which one you chose, but you deferred enrollment, and now I know it was because of Alec."

I stare at him, shocked. Did Alec tell him all this? Did he Google it?

"And you want a dog," he says.

"Okay, that's weird. You a psychic as well as a stalker?"

"Do you really want a dog?"

"Yes!"

"That one was a guess," he admits, laughing.

I punch him in the arm. "How do you know all of this stuff?"

"I did my due diligence upon accepting the job. I always make a point to know what, and who, I'm getting into."

His wording makes me blush, and I turn my face to the window before he notices. It's been a long, long time since I felt the rush of a crush.

"That's good, I guess," I say, feeling awkward.

"What kind of a dog?"

"I don't know. A pitbull, maybe."

"Hm."

I've actually wanted a pet for awhile, but sometimes I wonder if it would be the best thing. Sometimes it's just easier to not be attached to anything, or anyone.

"So...he's not coming home tonight," Masen says, abruptly switching topics.

"Guess not."

"What do you want to do?"

"What can we do?" I ask, frowning. "He's made it crystal clear that your job is to take me around on errands and stuff, not entertain me, and we've already been out all day." I look down at my phone. It's nearly four. "He...ugh. Knows everything."

"There are ways around it."

"Like, what, 'forgetting' my phone at home? He'd bitch me out for that."

"Trust me, there are ways," he repeats cryptically.

"Okay, so what do you want to do then?" I ask.

"What do you want to do?" he asks. "You're from around here...there've gotta be things you used to enjoy before..." he trails off.

Biting my lip, I think long and hard about what I used to like. It's been a long time. Alec and I used to party a lot, even as teens, but there's a ton of stuff to do in the Bay, on both sides of the bridge. One of my favorite things was Chabot Space and Science Center, and the second it crosses my mind, I know it's where I want to go.

Masen's never been, so I explain the best I can and then direct him up in to the hills, to Skyline Boulevard. The views up here are incredible even during the day, but at night it's stunning.

We wander around, watch a show in the planetarium, and, when the sun goes down, stargaze through the telescopes. Seeing them so clearly is always an experience.

"I'd forgotten how amazing this is," I say, smiling as I examine what I think might be a constellation. "It's so clear tonight."

"Yeah, it is," Masen says, standing close behind me. I start to scoot over so he can look through again, but he holds me still, resting his chin on my shoulder.

My whole body gets warm, my heartbeat erratic.

"Do you want to go?" he asks, like he knows. Maybe he does know. Maybe he feels it, too.

I nod, and we leave without another word.

Outside, he tugs me around a darkened corner where there's no one around. He pushes me up against the wall and kisses me. My mind empties of everything but him, his taste, his smell. His hair in my hands. His lips trail down to my throat, and I can feel the second he starts pulling back.

"Let's go."

There's a nervous energy between us in the car. Instead of turning down the road that will bring us home, he ventures higher into the hills, up where the fog has rolled in. It feels like we're in the clouds, and I shiver in excitement, wondering what he's up to.

Eventually he pulls off and parks, cutting the lights. It's so quiet, like the fog has absorbed all sound. The longer we stay, the thicker it gets.

"Imagine if we got stuck," I say. "Because of the fog."

"I have fog lights," he assures me, taking my hand.

We fall silent, watching the last remaining lights down by the Bay get swallowed. It's eerie and beautiful.

I look over at Masen, knowing he brought me here because like me, he didn't want our time together to end. The house is too dangerous, even though we'd be alone.

I want to kiss him again. I want to do way more.

He looks at me in the soft dark. "Come here."

I take my seatbelt off and pause.

Pushing his seat back, he reaches over and grabs me, sliding me onto his lap. It's a tight squeeze, but he's got a, SUV, so, it could be worse. He pushes the seat back all the way and lowers it so we're nearly flat, and that's even better. I can't recall the last time I made out in a car, junior year maybe, or senior, but this is nothing like that.

Masen is nothing like that. He's quiet and intense, and he kisses me like he's memorizing my mouth. And even though I feel him hard beneath me he never crosses any lines, not even when I really want him to, not even when I'm rocking back and forth, lost and mindless in how good he makes me feel.

"I want you," I say, kissing his neck.

"I wish I could," he murmurs. "I...wish."

"You can."

"Not here."

"Why not? There's no one..."

"We could get caught. This is dangerous enough as it is."

Tears of frustration...and need...run down my cheeks, and I push my face into his shirt.

"Don't cry," he pleads, slipping his hands underneath my hoodie. He holds me tight, and kisses me sweet. He's right. I know he's right. But he makes me not care. Actually that's not true: he makes me care about nothing in the world but him.

And that might be the most dangerous thing of all.