Chapter 12

"Damn," I whined as I pulled my phone from my discarded clutch from the night before. In my haste to finally be with Chuck, I'd thrown it to the floor without a second thought. "My phone's dead. Hope Serena doesn't need me for anything important this morning because -" I leaned forward and kissed Chuck softly on the lips. "After last night, I'll be useless for at least the next few hours."

He deepened the kiss, caressing the side of my neck absently with the pad of his thumb. I moaned when his tongue glided across my lower lip. "We've only got the rehearsal dinner tonight, right?" he asked. "Plenty of time to relax…though I can't promise that you'll get much rest."

I sighed contentedly into his mouth. Trying not to break contact, I murmured between kisses, "I thought you didn't have any more condoms."

"Ye of little faith," he chuckled, guiding me toward the bathroom, where an unopened of condoms sat on the vanity. He pressed a kiss to my neck, trailing his mouth up to my ear. "Think this will be enough to last us through the rest of the weekend?"

My mouth fell open, but it soon spread into a jubilant grin. "When -"

"You sleep very soundly." He winked, bending forward to turn on the faucet to fill the tub with warm water. He sprinkled in my favorite brand of bath salts before mixing in a eucalyptus bubble bath.

"A shower's faster." I raised my eyebrows, thinking about how many more positions the large shower would afford us.

"I'm not looking for fast." He smirked, stripping his shirt over his head.

I bit my lip, letting my eyes wander over his naked form. "What are you looking for then?"

"You'll find out when you're wearing far fewer clothes." His voice was raspy, thick with lust as he reached out to smoothly yank my camisole over my head. Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of my sleep shorts, he pulled me toward him and kissed me soundly on the lips. "Get rid of these."

I undressed while he removed the rest of his clothing and settled into the tub, motioning for me to join him. The water felt warm and rich as it washed over my tired limbs, soothing my sore muscles. I leaned back against Chuck's chest and closed my eyes as he squeezed a loofah over my shoulders, letting soap suds drip down my bare chest in a slow path. With languid movements, he washed my entire body, paying extra attention to my breasts and stomach. I hummed in contentment when he wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his head against the top of mine after he returned the loofah to its place next to the faucet. "This is nice," I murmured.

He hummed in agreement, massaging circles into my shoulder blades with the pads of his thumbs. "Are you feeling more relaxed?"

"Infinitely." I turned to kiss him, and his hand ghosted from my collar bone over the peaks of my breasts to rest against the flat of my stomach. I settled my palms on his strong thighs, enjoying the tenderness of the moment. There were no secrets or fears here – just two people finally stripped of layers of inhibitions and insecurities.

"This is a first for me," he admitted quietly, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.

"What is?"

"All of this," he answered, raising his hand to tilt my chin toward him. "I've never bathed with a woman; I've never -" He exhaled, nuzzling his nose against my neck. "Feeling you against me like this, washing your body, my heart pounding against my chest every time I kiss you. Don't you understand?"

I nodded; he was showing me something that he'd never let anyone else see, and it was hard for both of us to put into words. We both wanted – needed – to feel in control, so emotional intimacy was far scarier than physical intimacy. Revealing ourselves to each other was dangerous because it made us feel exposed and vulnerable.

"I know," he began in a raspy voice, "that you still have concerns about…you still doubt my commitment to…" He let out a frustrated sigh when he was unable to put his thoughts into words. "Blair -"

"Chuck," I interrupted softly, kissing him until I felt him relax into me. "Let's just enjoy this for what it is, okay? We don't have to have this conversation right now; we can figure it out as we go."

"Yeah," he gave me a soft smile that caused my heart to plummet into my stomach. "I just want to make sure you know that it's not about sex, it's not about this week; it's about you and how I feel about you."

I kissed him again, this time more passionately than before. I turned my body in his arms and climbed into his lap. What else could I do? I knew that he seemed to feel strongly about me, but I was scared that his feelings were the result of the trip and the facade we'd created. I haven't really had a serious relationship since Nate, and Chuck marked every red flag that the practical side of my brain tried to warn me against. What if I was foolishly opening myself up to another heartache? I could give him here and now, but I couldn't make any promises beyond today. I desperately wanted him – in ways that I hadn't wanted anyone in a long time – but I've learned the hard way that the heart isn't always right. It had taken years to re-learn who I am – what it means to be Blair Waldorf – and I couldn't risk all that for Chuck Bass, no matter how much I wanted to.

He moaned against my mouth, gripping my hips tightly to hold me to him. The tub was spacious enough to allow me room to straddle his thighs comfortably. He brought his hands to palm my breasts roughly, and all of my earlier fears were muted by the surge of desire shooting straight into my core. I rocked against him, feeling him swell beneath me. "This," he murmured between frantic kisses, "was not the point of this bath."

I chuckled, grinding myself down onto his erection. "I'm making it the point."

"You're such a little minx," he rasped as he raised me to my knees so that he could slip a condom over his shaft.

We both groaned when he slid inside of me. I buried my head in his neck, needing a minute to adjust to the overwhelming sensation of our coupling. "Is that a complaint?" I teased.

"God, no," he scraped his fingernails down my back, not hard enough to hurt but enough to spur my movements. I rotated my hips in a way that slowly built the tension boiling in both of our bodies. Neither one of us was in the mood for fast or uncontrolled. He lowered his head to take my nipple between his lips, murmuring between swipes of his tongue, "You have no idea how sexy you are."

Together, we fell into a sensual rhythm, our bodies gliding against each other in perfect synchrony. Our soft pants and the water sloshing around the tub were the only sounds echoing through the bathroom. He felt so good inside of me that I could no longer focus on anything except for the way he fit me so completely. With a sweet kiss, he fixed his eyes on mine, holding my gaze in what became one of the most intimate moments I'd ever experienced. He watched me with unwavering attention as I coasted through my climax, soft moans escaping my lips as I was engulfed in wave after wave of euphoria. There was something incredibly erotic about the way his hooded eyes studied me, and I was surprised to find that I didn't feel the least bit self-conscious. I let him watch me; in fact, I reveled in it.

I slumped forward, burying my head into his neck. He wrapped his arms tightly around my back, his body thrusting upward into me. Gently, I grazed my teeth over the pulse point in his throat, feeling him shudder against me with his release.

When I met his eyes for the second time, I was unnerved by what I saw. They were no longer filled with lust but something much heavier, like he'd had some sudden epiphany to which I wasn't privy. He looked at me like I held the answers to all of the world's most carefully guarded secrets, like he could see the sun setting behind my eyes in a million different nuanced tones.

I stood quickly, stumbling out of the tub, not bothering to dry my body of the water saturating my skin as I hastily wrapped a towel around myself. I murmured an excuse about needing to get dressed before the water pruned my skin – or something to that effect; I couldn't quite remember in my state of panic.

Chuck looked at me the way I'd spent years wishing Nate would look at me. He'd told me multiple times over the past few days that it was more than sex, but I don't think I completely believed him until this moment.

I locked myself in the closet, slumping against the wall to gather my thoughts. I had to get away from Chuck so that I could think clearly. I inhaled slowly with practiced breaths, but my mind continued to swirl with the implications of everything that had transpired in the past week. I had allowed myself to get too caught up in the fantasy of this trip – the romance of attending a destination wedding on the arm of a charming man. I failed to temper my own expectations and in the process, perhaps I encouraged Chuck more than I should have.

A soft rapping on the door startled me. "Blair," Chuck's low, tentative voice called to me.

I dropped the towel, reaching for the first item I found. I pulled Chuck's dress shirt over my head, buttoning it haphazardly so that it hung loosely around my frame. Opening the door, I hugged my arms to my chest in a defensive stance, erecting a metaphorical wall around myself. I needed to guard my heart more carefully because a man like Chuck was only capable of breaking it.

When I opened the door, Chuck gave me a soft smile. "I could certainly get used to this," he motioned toward my body enveloped in his shirt. He must've been able to read my apprehension because his smile dropped from his face, and he asked, "What's wrong, Blair?"

"It's nothing," I waved him off. "I just needed to moisturize."

"Where's the lotion then?"

He had me there. Bastard.

"I didn't want an audience." My voice was icy, and I immediately regretted my tone when his muscles flinched.

"Again with the hot and cold behavior," he sighed, throwing his hands up and dropping himself down onto the bed. "Care to tell me how I've offended you this time?"

I rolled my eyes, more agitated with myself than him. "Sorry that I didn't want to cuddle in the bathtub after sex."

"That's exactly what this is about, isn't it?" he asked gently, his expression softening as realization dawned on him.

"What are you talking about?" I snapped, rummaging through my bag for a bottle of lotion – anything to distract me from that look on his face.

"It was too intimate for you," he surmised, arching an eyebrow in my direction. "It scared you."

"It's just sex, Chuck," I huffed, squirting too much lotion into the palm of my hand and slathering it over my arms. "It's not that deep."

"Keep trying to convince yourself of that, Blair." His voice was gruff, and I could tell he was growing irritated. I didn't blame him. He was right that I was acting irrationally – not that I would admit that to him. I liked him, really liked him; I had already told him that much. I'd willingly slept with him twice and enjoyed every single second of it. Now, I was sending him mixed signals – the exact behavior that I hated from men.

"It's you I'm trying to convince," I sighed wearily, not even believing myself. "We're having fun, but we have to remember the whole purpose of this trip. We've let it get to our heads. Once we're back in New York, it'll be different. This is just pretend, Chuck. It's not real."

Hurt flickered across his eyes, and I turned away from him, my heart clenching tightly in my chest at the sight. "You don't really believe that." His voice was so quiet and so full of pain that my stomach tied itself into knots of guilt. "If you do, then you're a better liar than I realized. You're a coward, Blair. I'm scared, too, but at least I can admit it."

I jumped when the front door slammed closed; the salty tears that had pooled in my eyes finally spilled forth, and I let out a heart-wrenching sob. How had I let things get so out of hand? He was right; I was a coward. I hadn't meant a single word I'd said, but I was too afraid to face the uncertainty of my emotions.

I swiped at my eyes, reaching for my phone to call him to come back to me, to let him know that I had made a terrible mistake. In all of the frenzy, I'd completely forgotten that my phone was dead. I powered it on, waiting for all of the notifications to load. I scrolled through a couple of text messages from Serena about the rehearsal dinner; nothing too pressing caught my attention until I reached the last message. It was from a number I didn't recognize. I opened the message to find a blue hyperlink accompanied by the message: "Maybe you don't know your boyfriend as well as you think you do. Enjoy. –GG"

GG? Who was GG?

My first thought was Georgina, but that didn't make sense. I blocked her number a long time ago, and, even if she had a new one, she would prefer to deliver a blow in person so that she could witness the damage firsthand.

I clicked the link, anxiously tapping my nail against the screen, urging it to load faster. My heart thudded against my rib cage when the video that had haunted me for years flashed across my screen. I watched in horror as Nate settled himself over Serena's body, lifting her dress above her hips. I grimaced in disgust, and I tried to close out the video to no avail. I had no control over my phone as the video played out in its entirety.

The GG emblem appeared in the lower right hand corner of the video. Gossip Girl. I had no clue that the site even still existed after I left the states. I didn't know if this was a resurgence, or if the creator had just now tracked me down, but this was a new level of cruelty. Why now? The day before the wedding? What did this have to do with -

The video ended abruptly and a screenshot took its place. My eyes burned with hot, angry tears when I read the email dated six years prior:

Nate Archibald missed his girlfriend's striptease while he fucked another girl in the coat closet. Video evidence attached. –Chuck Bass

The blood running through my veins turned ice cold, and my entire body began to quake with rage. He was the reason that my whole life was put on hold because of a humiliating scandal. I had to find refuge in another country after he ruined my reputation and all of my closest relationships.

He had lied to me repeatedly. Acting like…

It dawned on me suddenly that this meant that he already knew my history with Nate and Serena. He was there. He saw my striptease, and he acted like he didn't even know me until I moved into the Palace.

What possible reason could he have for releasing that video to Gossip Girl? What did he gain from my mortification?

My mind was spinning with a hundred different thoughts. I ran to the toilet and dispelled the meager contents of my breakfast. I felt used. I'd never felt such betrayal since –

Nate and Serena.

He had lied about knowing Nate, too. He had said that they were acquainted through his Lost Weekends. If he was friendly with Nate, then why would he leak the video?

Nothing made any sense. My stomach ached as I continued to retch into the toilet, lurching in violent fits until there was nothing left.

I sat back, sweat pouring down my temple, my breathing ragged and unsteady. A terrifying notion crept into my head, and I tried to ignore it, but it grew more insistent. I had to face the possibility that Chuck might've done this on purpose. Perhaps it was all a sick game to him. I don't know why I would be the unknowing victim of such callousness, but maybe he accepted my invitation to toy with me. He lured me to his bed and waited for Gossip Girl to drop the bomb.

I didn't believe he could do that to me – not now, not after everything. Not after our date to the bookstore and…last night and this morning.

That still left the question of why? Why did he do it then? Was it just a terrible coincidence that we met up again several years later?

I curled into a ball on the bathroom rug, clutching my knees to my chest as I sobbed aloud until there were no tears left. I wanted to hate him, but it hurt too much to try. No matter how much pain I felt or how angry I was with him, I couldn't hate him – and that made it so much worse.

I had been wrong to worry about him causing more small cracks in my fragile heart; he'd shattered it beyond recognition. There was nothing left; I was empty and numb. With deliberate and careful movements, I rose to my feet and examined my reflection in the mirror. I was an utter mess. I scrubbed my face and applied several layers of concealer to hide the tear streaks. I curled my hair and stepped into a stunning Oscar de la Renta gown – the one that I had bought secretly in hopes to surprise Chuck. What a waste.

An hour and a half later, no one could've guessed the range of emotions I'd just experienced. To the outside observer, I was elegant, sophisticated, and confident. To Chuck Bass, I was a loaded weapon.

XOXO

At five-thirty, Chuck returned to the villa, tumbler of scotch in hand. His eyes widened momentarily when he saw me. He didn't say a word, but the slow bobbing of his Adam's apple told me that the dress had the desired effect. I gave him a sardonic smirk and carefully applied scarlet lipstick in the mirror while he changed into a tuxedo.

The silence between us was deafening, but he was ignorant to think that it was a result of our earlier squabble. I gritted my teeth angrily as he dressed, but I didn't dare speak. He adjusted his cufflinks, glancing furtively at me from beneath heavy lids. He was clearly frustrated, possibly slightly inebriated, but he had no idea what hell I was about to unleash on him.

"This is ridiculous, Blair," he finally gruffed as I spritzed perfume on my wrists and arranged my necklace against my clavicle.

"What is?" I asked, feigning confusion.

"Whatever this absurd argument is about, this tension between us." He walked toward me, reaching out his arms to encircle my waist. I sidestepped him and he let out an exasperated huff. "We had a great day yesterday, and this morning was incredible. Let's just put this behind us, and we can deal with it later. Let's have fun tonight." He lowered his voice, tentatively raising his hand to caress my cheek. "You look beautiful."

I swallowed hard to keep tears from flowing. I couldn't let myself be weak. The only emotion that I could trust was anger; he could see my rage but not my pain. I would be damned if I let him know how much he hurt me. I shook my head and yanked his hand from my face, turning away from him.

"Baby, please," he beseeched. I inhaled sharply, nearly breaking at the desperation in his voice.

I forced my expression into one of cold indifference, hoping that my countenance could hide the inner turmoil that I felt. I turned toward him, making sure he saw the wrath in my eyes. "There'll be no fun tonight, Chuck. You and I will attend the dinner tonight, but you will not touch me or talk to me without express permission. I would send you home immediately, but I do not want to worry Serena or overshadow her wedding."

Confusion dotted his features. "Blair, what is all of this? Over a silly little argument?"

"Check your phone," I motioned toward his device, waiting for him to pull up the screenshot I forwarded to him. I watched his expression change slowly as he took in the image. Horror shadowed his features followed by sheer panic.

"Blair, you don't -"

"We have to go," I interrupted him, stepping outside before he could continue. I called over my shoulder, "I took the liberty of booking you a different car. We'll be dropped off at the back of the property, so there's no concern about arriving in separate vehicles." I winked at him sardonically, leaving him in the doorway looking stunned.

I dabbed at my eyes, willing away the tears when I settled into the back of the car.

"Should I wait for Mr. Bass?" the chauffeur asked.

"No," I offered him a fake smile, "Mr. Bass had an important business call; he'll join us later, but I don't want to hold up the dinner."

My phone vibrated in my purse, and I pulled it out to see a text from Chuck flash across my screen:

Chuck: Blair, I can explain.

Me: There's nothing to explain.

Chuck: Yes, there is, but I don't want to do it over text.

Me: I don't want to hear it.

Chuck: Just give me a chance. Please.

Me: Stop texting me.

Chuck: Everything I told you last night is still true.

Me: Here's something true: I. HATE. YOU.

I silenced my notifications and tossed my phone back into my clutch. I didn't care to hear what he had to say. There was no excuse, no explanation that could make it alright. Anything that had been blooming between us – if there even had been anything after all – would die a slow, agonizing death.

XOXO

When I stepped out of the town car, I found Chuck waiting for me on the sidewalk with his hands shoved deep into his pants pockets. He looked ashamed of himself, like a puppy with its tail between its legs after being scolded. I took solace in the fact that he was feeling at least a fraction of the pain that I was. Maybe at some point his feelings had changed toward me; maybe he was lying about all of it. It didn't matter either way because I would never be able to forgive him, and even if I could, I would never trust him again.

"Would you just listen to me?" He begged when I slipped my arm into the crook of his elbow.

"Now is not the time," I hissed. "Don't make a scene. Let's just smile and get through the evening."

"Blair, I'm –"

"Oh, my God, you two look amazing," Serena cooed, and I welcomed the interruption. She looked me up and down, taking in the deep dip of my dress into my cleavage. She raised her eyebrows in Chuck's direction, "I'm surprised that you were able to get out the door with her looking like this."

"You know Blair," he nodded with a small smirk. "Social propriety trumps everything." His eyes narrowed in my direction, and I knew that he wasn't referring to this evening. The implications of his words dated back to the one time I set aside my inhibitions in the name of spontaneity, and it's haunted me ever since.

"Well," Serena's unknowing grin irked me, and I wanted badly to be able to confide in her. "Let's get some alcohol in her and see if we can loosen her up a little."

I willingly accepted the champagne flute from the passing waiter, downing much of the liquid in one gulp. "If you'll excuse me," I said to both Chuck and Serena, "I need to…talk to Carter about something."

I watched Chuck's jaw jump at the mention of Carter's name. Good, I thought. Asshole.

"Waldorf," Carter greeted as I placed my hand on his shoulder, sneaking glances at Chuck while I giggled shamelessly as if I cared in the least about Carter Baizen.

"Carter, on the yacht the other day -" I started, not sure where I was going with that statement. He was a jerk, and I definitely didn't owe him any kind of apology, but I needed a reason to talk to him. The longer I stayed away from Chuck, the better.

"I'm sorry for what I said," he offered, and he sounded sincere. "I was out of line, but, for what it's worth, I still think you're too good for Bass."

His words pierced my chest, and I had to excuse myself. "Thank you," I nodded quietly. "I have to go…I.."

I didn't finish my sentence as I stumbled my way toward the restroom. I dropped down onto a bench and closed my eyes, clutching my hands to my chest. I was fooling myself if I thought I could rely on my anger to get me through the evening. I wanted to go back to last night, to take back the stupid fight I picked with Chuck this morning. I wish I'd never seen the stupid email. Ignorance certainly would be bliss in this case.

The door to the bathroom swung open, and I quickly tried to compose myself. My mouth dropped open in frustration when I recognized the figure standing in front of me as Georgina Sparks. "What the hell do you want?" I snapped, standing to my feet.

"Can't a girl use the facilities without being accused of ill intentions?" She checked her lipstick in the mirror.

"A girl, yes," I snarled. "You, no."

"Chuck looked awfully lonely out there." She turned to face me, pushing her cleavage up and out of her sweetheart neckline. "It would seem to me that you are doing all you can to avoid him."

"It's a party. I'm mingling," I headed toward the door. "With everyone except for you."

Just as I started to leave, she called out, "He only sent one of those videos, Blair."

I froze. "What are you talking about?"

"He's not the one who sent the video of your little dance."

"How do you know that?" My voice held a meek quality that I loathed, especially when speaking to Georgina.

"Because I released it," she checked her nails to convey nonchalance, while my hands balled into tight fists.

"Why?" I locked my jaw.

"Why not?" she chuckled. "I love chaos."

"But why would Chuck -"

"Oh, you'll have to ask him about that," She smoothed her hands over her hips, walking to stand toe to toe with me. "I am still baffled over that one. I was there, but I was too focused on inflicting the ultimate humiliation on the Queen Bee herself. The video of Nate and Serena was just an added bonus, thanks to Chuck. It was the icing on the cake of how utterly pathetic Blair Waldorf is, desperately begging for scraps of attention from her boyfriend, while he only had eyes for her best friend."

I couldn't move or breathe. While I stood in stunned silence, she pushed past me back to the party, laughing on her way out the door.

I was the laughing stock that I had always feared I would become. It didn't matter how much time and distance I put between myself and those incidents, it would always haunt me.

Weak.

Pathetic.

I finally found the strength to hate Chuck as much as I hated Georgina, but it wasn't enough. I didn't hate either one of them as much as I hated myself.

I ran out of the building, ignoring Chuck as he called out my name for me to stop. After barking orders to the chauffeur to take me directly back to the hotel as quickly as possible, I scrolled through my phone, searching for the first flight back to New York.

A/N: Some of you mentioned that you did not receive notifications about my last few updates. Apparently, Ffnet has updated their policy so that you will only receive emails if you opt-in to email notifications under your account settings. You have to renew the opt-in setting every 90 days or so. This seems to go for review notifications, new story alerts, chapter updates, and private messages. It's been a little frustrating to me as a writer because I am missing PMs. If you message me and I don't respond quickly, just know that I'm not ignoring you. You can also follow me on twitter under the username about150times for story updates.

I am writing a companion story to Love and Loathing from Chuck's point-of-view, and it will include the night at Victrola when he released the video of Nate and Serena. Many of you have asked for Chuck's pov, so hopefully that will clear up some questions. :)