Thanks, everyone, for the feedback - it's always loved! Like Daniel, you'll have to be patient, and wait and see . . . Enjoy! :)
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"Morning," Daniel smiled down at Betty.
"Morning," she looked up at him.
She looked around and noticed they were in his bed.
"Umm . . . we didn't . . . you know . . . did we?" she timidly asked.
"No," he assured her.
"Good – I mean not good – I mean – you know what I mean . . ." she struggled desperately with her torn feelings.
"Yeah, I do," Daniel chuckled and kissed her temple.
She lightly ran her hands through his disheveled hair.
"You do realize that you drive me crazy?" he teased her lips.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, turning her head away.
"No. Baby, it's a good thing. The best parts of my day are when I get to see you . . . hold you . . . kiss you . . ." he told her in between kisses.
"Mine, too. I'm going to miss you," she admitted.
"Not as much as I'm going to miss you . . ." he said.
"Come with me, then," she suggested.
"Betty, we talked about this," he gently reminded her.
"Yeah, I know . . . Doesn't mean I like it," she said.
"Me neither . . . but there's that computer video phone thing Amanda tried to show me," he said.
"You mean Skype?" she tried to contain her amusement of his lack of web knowledge.
"Yeah, whatever. And we can always call and text each other," he pointed out.
"True," she agreed, snuggling up to him.
"You know what I'll miss the most?" he said.
"What?" she asked.
"Your sleep-talking," he teased.
"What? I do not!" she insisted, embarrassed.
"Sorry, baby, but you do. It's adorable! Last night, it was a line from the movie, a couple of days ago you kept saying your bunny was drowning," he chuckled.
"You're making that up!" she playfully smacked him.
"I am not - I swear! Next time I'll put a tape recorder next to you to prove it," he joked.
"You will not!" she protested.
"Why? Because you know it's true?" he smirked.
"No! . . . But what if it was? You'd use it as ammo against me someday," she teased.
"You know, I didn't think about that before, but you gave me a great idea . . ." he teased.
"Daniel . . ." she pleaded. "Fine. But FYI – you snore like a freight train."
Betty was exaggerating by a landslide, but couldn't stand to let Daniel have all the fun.
"Liar," he challenged.
"I am not – I – It's totally true!" she stammered, avoiding his eyes.
"And that is exactly how I know it's not – you're a horrible liar," he chuckled.
"Yeah, you're right," she reluctantly admitted.
"Of course I am," he cockily said.
"Okay – now you're gonna get it!" she playfully climbed on top of him and started to tickle him. Daniel grabbed her wrists.
"Am I?" he stopped her.
"Definitely," she slyly smiled and parted his lips with her tongue.
"If this is my punishment, maybe I should annoy you more often . . .?" he grinned devilishly.
"Don't even think about it," she warned.
"Ok – I won't . . ." he looked at her mischievously, then attacked her.
"Not fair! Stop!" she giggled.
He loved making her laugh.
"You're beautiful, you know that?" he stared at her.
"And you're not so bad yourself . . ." Betty smiled.
Daniel crashed into her lips, continuing to avoid getting ready for work until they absolutely had to.
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"Come on, you two lovebirds! Ay! Betty – either pry yourself off of your man or go book a room at the airport hotel! Vamonos, Chica! We're gonna miss our flight!" Hilda yelled at her sister.
"Mmm . . . Aren't they hot together? They should totally get a room . . ." Amanda stared at them.
"Amanda – not helping!" Hilda lightly smacked her arm. "Besides, isn't it a little weird for you? I only kissed him once - but you used to go out with Daniel, right?"
"Eh. I'm sooo over him! I'm really into his sexier brother right now – not the tranny – the half one," Amanda explained. "Oh . . ." Hilda answered before remembering their dilemma.
"Ok, Missy – now!" Hilda literally pulled Betty away from Daniel and out of the limo.
"Hilda!" Betty protested.
"Bye, baby!" Betty called, holding onto his hand until she couldn't reach it anymore.
"I'll talk to you later, babe," Daniel sat there with a goofy grin on his face and waved.
"What has gotten into you? If I didn't know any better I'd think you two were the ones getting married. Oooooooo! Things are really heating up for you guys, aren't they?" Hilda nudged Betty as they took their luggage from the driver.
"Kinda . . ." she vaguely answered.
"What the hell does that mean?" Hilda demanded, continuing to walk into the airport.
"Yeah, you guys have done 'the nasty', right?" Amanda assumed.
"Well . . . not exactly," Betty replied as she pressed the button for the elevator.
"I didn't want to say anything in front of Papi or anyone else last night . . . but yesterday afternoon in Daniel's office, Wilhelmina walked in on us," Betty revealed, after the elevator doors had shut.
"Whaaat? You mean you two were . . . in his office? Ay!" Hilda exclaimed.
Betty cringed, embarrassed.
"So how much did she see?" Hilda asked, intrigued.
"Enough, unfortunately. We were kissing - and Daniel's shirt was open. But the worst was that I had my hands on his ass, his lips were all in my cleavage, and his hand was about to push up my skirt just as she walked in," Betty awkwardly informed them.
"Ok – TMI, baby sister. TMI!" Hilda stopped her, the elevator doors opening on their designated floor.
"Well you did ask . . ." Betty pointed out, as they walked into the kiosk area.
"Sounds pretty PG compared to the rumor that was flying around afterward," Amanda scoffed, unimpressed.
"Rumor? What rumor?" Betty asked. How the hell did any rumor get started – Wilhelmina promised to keep her mouth zipped . . .?
"Well, word has it that you and Daniel were naked as Halston and much further along. Wilhelmina fainted from the hideous sight and Marc had to use smelling salts to revive her," Amanda whispered, eager to spill.
Betty's mouth dropped wide open. Marc! They had grown fairly close after she helped him come out to his mother and they both got into YETI. Regardless, that freakin' loudmouth couldn't keep his trap shut and his impulse to BS off if his life depended on it! Son of a bitch! Forget it – people would say and think what they wanted. She'd just have to live with her mistake for now and eventually they'd find some other poor person to spread rumors about.
"Betty? Are you okay?" Hilda asked.
Betty realized she still had her mouth open and hadn't spoken.
"Yeah, fine!" she assured her sister. "Can we talk about something else?"
As they approached the security area, she hoped her trip to London would be an escape from her impending problems at home.
It wasn't so much the rumors, but the fact that she still had reservations about what didn't happen and what ultimately would have to . . . well it wouldn't have to, but she definitely didn't think Daniel was the type to settle for a life of celibacy and honestly, despite her fears, she didn't think she could either – especially not with Daniel . . . Hilda literally had to pry her off of him because she didn't want to leave him for just a week . . . That spoke volumes, didn't it?
And there she went in the same circle as she did the other night . . . she was so screwed up! Why couldn't she just -?
"Ma'm? You're holding up the line. Please place your bags on the conveyor belt and step through the metal detector," the guard requested.
"Oh! Sorry!" she apologized, embarrassed she got so caught up in her thoughts that she couldn't even concentrate.
She quickly hoisted her suitcase onto the conveyor, dumped out the contents of her purse, and walked through the metal detector – thank god she didn't have braces anymore . . . Okay – London here she came! Time for fashion, working and partying - leaving everything else until she got back. Hell, maybe she'd even gain an entirely new perspective by the end of her trip – she could dream, right?
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Daniel rubbed the back of his neck, apprehensive that he hadn't heard from Betty in two days. She had contacted him in some way, shape, or form every day since she had left: cute little "Miss U" picture texts, a phone or video chat before she went to sleep or when she woke up – he didn't care how early or late it happened to be. Maybe she was just really busy – or maybe her phone died and she misplaced her charger?
Was he really this needy and pathetic that he couldn't go without some form of communication with her for a couple of days – even if it was listening to her enthusiastically babble on about the detailed architecture of a historic building or how one of the up-and-coming fashion designers was actually homeless for a while, selling makeshift handbags off the streets, before getting a break and managing to score a scholarship to a design school.
It was 2AM in London so there was no way he was going to get anything from her tonight anyway. Besides, she and the girls were probably just out celebrating their last nights there. And he had Bobby's bachelor party to go to the next day. She'd be home late tomorrow night, anyway. He laid his phone down and turned on the TV. Some lame-ass cop comedy was the only thing remotely interesting he could find. He heard a buzz, but blew it off as being from the TV. He leaned back on the couch and fell asleep half-way through the movie.
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He woke up a few hours later, rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock on his blu-ray player. Time to go to bed. And what was that inane beeping? He noticed his cell phone was lit up – a video message from Betty. He immediately opened it up:
"Hey, Daniel!" Betty waved from her hotel room. "Whoops! Where'd that table come from?" she giggled as she bumped into it, clearly hammered.
"Anyway . . . – ulrp – 'scuse me!" she slurred. "Here's a peek sneak of what to expect when you get home . . ." she giggled and lifted up her top and bra.
"Bra-tinerary! Woooo!" she squealed before pulling her top back down and stumbling to the bed. "Oh! And I'm really really in love with me . . ." she confessed and pointed to him.
"Nite . . ." she waved.
Holy shit! Did she just – and then just? Damn! . . . Okay. She was drunk – but she could still seriously be . . . Wow! Was he? He didn't know . . . he'd never really thought about it. He hated being without her . . . every little thing she said or did made him smile or turned him on . . . even in her clumsy, drunken state, she was irresistible . . . she was the first person he wanted to tell anything to . . . the last voice he wanted to hear at night and the first in the morning . . .
He trusted her completely . . . he'd do anything to make her safe and happy . . . there was no one else he'd rather be with more . . . What if she wasn't in love with him? . . . Being drunk could make you do and say some pretty stupid things – he knew – he'd said and done pretty much all of them at one time or another. Oh god! He ran his hands over his face. He was in love with her! . . . And he'd fallen hard . . .