Author's Note:
Rader: You'll find out soon enough. Trust
SoCal: I made a boy like a Princess Diary fan fiction? Has he read the other one that went along with this one?
Everyone else: thanks
MIA:
He wants me? He wants me? He wants me. He just actually said that out loud. Oh Holy Jason! "Why though?" I asked feeling self conscious as he eyed my chest.
"Because," he started, kissing the top of my chest, "I've always wanted you. Right from the beginning."
How can he think coherently when he's kis- God. Okay Mia. Stop thinking and just do.
Guys have wanted to go downstairs on me before, but I can't say I have enjoyed it. They usually had no idea what they were doing and just sloppishly tried to act cool. But Michael….he took his time. It was almost like he could read my mind. I mean, at first when he kissed me I thought, Great, the hornball wants some. But he was focusing on me. Not getting anything for…..
Himself. "Michael," I moaned softly, grasping the sheets. "Don't…."
He laid next to me and his hair was all mussed. "Why'd you…."
"I know you used to like that," he explained, licking his lips. "Was it okay?"
I blushed. I know I did. What was I supposed to do now? The great thing about him is that he didn't expect me to do anything; he just held my hand and closed his eyes. So I took my hands away and repaid the favor.
Only, he wasn't whispering as he finished. "I have a case of the cuss words," he admitted shyly afterwards. "Sorry."
I giggled, "It's fine." Hearing him swear was funny. And I wouldn't mind hearing him do it all over again. And again.
"Gawd," he said staring at me with big eyes, "What'll we do now?"
MICHAEL:
There was no way I was going to fall asleep after all this. But she did, she's always been able to fall asleep quickly. At least every time we've slept in the same bed We were lying there together, but I was just watching her sleep. Amazed by what just happened. She never did that to guys. Ever.
Not that I'm bragging.
But Schilling used to make her do it to him and she did to shut him up. She only told me that last year when some guy was begging for one and she had me kick him out of the bus.
I fingered her hair and combed it with my fingers. Why was I so lucky? Why me? Why was she choosing to kiss me? Maybe this was a fluke, or even worse, a dream. What if she was just thinking of this like when we were younger?
No. Impossible. She even said I was her favorite kissing partner. You don't just say that to anyone. I moved a bit so she'd wake up. It was nearly eight in the morning.
"Mmmm?" she asked, opening one eye and nuzzling onto my chest.
"What are we doing?" I asked pointedly, trying to ignore the fact that she looked beautiful in the morning with her hair all mussed and her nose so cold.
"I'll call Larry and tell him we'll be coming to the game before the benefit.. He adores Grandmere. Ever since she helped convince Johnny to stay with the Sox back in 2005."
"She did that?"
"Kind of. She made him realize he hated New York for more reasons other than the Yankees sucking. So Larry and Grandmere became buddies. She adores Johnny D and now tries to come see him play. She thinks he has a nice âne"
"Your grandmother?" I asked, forgetting that I wanted to know what we were doing on a personal level.
"I know, Grandmere, and baseball mixing seems wrong, but it is true. She doesn't understand it, but Louie is tutoring her. He's her Yoda."
Weird.
"So I'll call him up and we'll get seats somewhere. I think that they're playing the Devil Rays, so it'll be a fun game."
"Fun?" I'm not a sports guy.
"Yeah, we'll eat 'em alive. They suck."
I watched as she reluctantly stood up and slipped her sweatpants on over her underpants.
I was thinking it would be like the old days where we'd hook up, but then pretend it never happened the next day. But she ordered breakfast for us, and then took a call outside on the balcony.
I heard bits of it as I watched the Seven Newstation. Highlights from the weekend's cultural events scrolled the bottom of the screen; including our concert stats (sold out, good reviews)
. "Lex, chill out," she snapped. "Seriously. I'm in Boston to go to the baseball game. They asked me if I wanted to go. What am I supposed to say, no?"
A knock came to the door. I slowly made my way over to the door and let the room service man in. There was a picture of the band playing in the Arts and Entertainment section as well as a concert review. They noted the sexuality of the band and how sensual Mia and I acted on stage, and yet were just friends.
"Felix Shortridge!" she boomed. "Honestly, Michael has nothing….he wanted to see the game, that's all," she said in a softer tone. "And to meet some people at the benefit. We're just friends."
I nibbled on my bacon. I'm sure I'll be getting a phone call pretty soon from—shit. I left my cell phone on the bus, which was now making its way to New York.
"Hey," she said sitting next to me at the table.
"Can I use your phone?" I asked after kissing her softly on the cheek.
She nodded and handed it over as she eyed the food in front of us. "I ordered too much."
"Nah, just enough for us to vege out until game time."
She crinkled up her nose and smiled. "I wanna see batting practice."
"Whatever," I replied, walking away, dialing Elle's number.
"Hi, you've reached the voicemail box of Elle, I'm not available to take your call but you can leave me and a message and I'll make time to call you back. MWAH!" Apparently she is now going by one and only one name.
I sighed, "Hey Elle…uh, I'm in Boston," I started pacing on the balcony. "Mia got some tickets to the Red Sox game today so we're gonna go see that this afternoon. Uhm, I dunno when I'll be home but…well, I left my cell phone on the bus by mistake so I can't take any calls from you. I'll talk to you when I can, bye."
Short. Sweet. To the Point.
MIA:
I can act calm and cool. No I can't. What am I thinking? I just had a VERY intriguing interaction with none other than Michael James Moscovitz last night and he's acting as if it wasn't a big deal. I wonder if he's like this with all the girls he fools around with.
Felix had spazzed out, like I suspected. "This is absurd!" he squealed (yes). "Not that I don't trust you…it's just, why didn't you call me to go to the show last night? I could have taken the train-"
"Felix," I whispered, hoping Michael was not listening in, "Weezer…it's something special with us. It's private, but it's special."
"Mia, I'm your boyfriend of what, FIVE years, over five years. God, it's been six years and we didn't even celebrate because you were on the damn road."
"Felix, relax. Breathe in. Breathe out. I'm going to the game today and then we'll go to the benefit and sleep in our own beds and probably catch a train or something back to New York in the morning."
"Fine. I'll see you tomorrow then?"
"Yes," I said calmly. "I promise. I'll come to you."
"Good. I'll make dinner."
"Fantastic," I replied, already smelling the breakfast I'd ordered.
"See you then lov-"
I hung up before he could finish. Blame it on bad reception.
"C'mon boys!" I screamed as the players returned to the dugout later that afternoon. Somehow the Devilrays were KILLING them. Michael stood next to me as we tried to cheer on the team. He rubbed my back and whispered, "I think thatthird baseman is checking you out."
I elbowed him playfully and rested my head on his shoulder. "Youk doesn't do that," I replied. "He focuses on the game."
"I didn't know that Youk had morals
"Of course he does. He's the Greek God of Walks
He gave me a weird look.
So I changed the subject This," I started. "Is the ideal day."
He pulled away suddenly so I turned and saw a camera crew coming towards us. They started asking me about the official team of Genovia, I didn't even know we had one. Then they asked me to take an official position on the Yankees versus Red Sox debate. "Well, I'm here, wearing a Red Sox shirt, what do you think?"
We didn't even hold hands as we left the park (a slaughter on the hands of the Devil Rays, no biggie though. It's only May).
"Can I have your autograph?" a girl asked Michael. "Hey will you take our picture?" she asked, thrusting her disposable at me.
I sighed and took the picture. "How long are you in Boston for?" she asked him, batting her eyes at him.
Don't worry honey, I don't really exist. Ignore me. Please. Do it.
"We're going to the benefit tonight at the Omni Parker House," he replied, scribbling his name. "And then heading home tomorrow. We need a little home time," he replied, putting his arm around me.
The girls gave me dirty looks as we walked away. "Gawd, she has a boyfriend for crying out loud."
"And she's a princess. What does she need him for?"
I looked at him as he shook his head. "Bye girls." We walked down the street, "They're teeny boppers. Not really the type we're looking for as fans anyways."
"They just love you for your gleaming girly hair," I teased. He lifted me in the air and spun me around until I called truce. I fell to the ground pretending to be dizzy (we were in the Public Gardens).
He went down to his knees, "Oh fair princess what hast thou don'th to thouself?"
People started pointing and staring at us. "Drama," I teased.
He sighed heavily. "I love when people stare, don't you?"
I played with a blade of grass. "I guess."
"And someday," he started, lying next to me and staring at the sky. "I'll get to hold your hand in public and kiss you all I want."
Um, okay. Maybe last night was NOT a fluke. I smirked, "Oh, who says I'd let you?"
He turned his body towards me. "I do. It's starting to get dark out," he started, staring at the sliver of belly showing on me. "I need a shower. Join me?"
It sounded…perfect. The right way to end a tour. "Sounds fantastic. We can call the train station and have tickets left for us in the morning."
"Sounds great," he said softly.
We returned to the Four Season's and raced to the elevators. I won, but only because he was stopped by admirers. Lars scoffed at him and finally told the girls to leave him alone.
It was still light out, only seven, "Want to walk there?" he asked, buttoning his suit jacket that the hotel managed to get him for the evening.
I looked at myself in the bathroom full length mirror. I heart Stella's of Newbury. It was a form fitting black silk dress. The top was strapless, but black lace covered up the chest area. I put my hair back into a low bun. "In these shoes?" I asked, peeking out the door way.
"Well, if you came out of the bathroom for five minutes then I'd see what excuse of shoes you are wearing."
I made a face. "Lemme put on some lipstick."
He sighed and fell backwards onto the bed. "You look fine without all that clown makeup."
I stepped out and put my hands on my hips, "Clown makeup?"
He smiled, "I knew that would get you out here. Let's go."
MICHAEL:
The team sent a limousine for us to go all the way up the street in. "There are so many one way streets around here," Mia said looking out the window and squeezing my hand.
"This place gets better an better the longer I'm here."
She half smiled at me. "I look all benefitty, right?"
"Totally."
"Good. Good…."
She waved at the camera people who were snapping a million pictures of us. "Princess! Princess!" one called out.
Mia turned and saw a reporter we've grown to know over the past few years. "Hey Joyce," she said hugging her like a friend. "How's the granddaughter doing?"
"She's got her teeth coming in so she's been a pest."
"I'll be sure to send those Genovian sea shells to Cynthia. Legend has it that those sooth baby tears."
"Oh thank you dear. Is that Michael Moscovitz you are with?"
I perked up at the mention of my name. "Hey there Joyce," I said half hugging her. "Yes, tis I."
"Is there a story here?" she asked, making a face at Mia. The just between us girls kind of look.
"Always is," Mia said with a wink. "We had a show here last night and stayed behind to see the game and stuff. Nothing else."
Joyce made a face. "Did you hear who else is here?" she asked with a note of gossip in her voice.
Mia smiled, "No, who?"
"Schilling Davies."
