Chapter 23.

Lukasz is late.

We're not quite yet late for the party as such, but he's late.

I sit in my living room, uneasy and feeling silly in my dress.

I watched him on TV and he seemed okay during the game. He was subbed off at precisely 60 minutes, and he didn't look in pain. He didn't. But that really doesn't mean much. He's gotten too good at pretending…

When we talked over the phone, he said everything was fine; that he had just gotten delayed at the stadium, and would have to take a later flight.

He told me not to worry.

Right…

I've already taken off my heels and my earrings — seeing how we're supposed to be at this thing in fifteen minutes and he's still not here — when there's a knock on the door that makes Wrinkles (and myself) jump from the couch.

I fling the door open, and Lukasz stands in front of me, in his team's travel sweats and shirt, duffel bag hanging from one shoulder and a suit bag folded over his other arm.

"Cecilia… I'm so sorry I'm late," his words rush out without a breath. "I was going to head to the hotel first and get ready there, but I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer. I just need five minutes to get ready, I promise."

"Hey," I manage to say, letting him in.

"I am so sorry," he says again, the smile dwindling from his face, as he closes the door and drops his bag.

"Is everything okay?" My eyes roam him, counting the pieces, checking for the set of his shoulders, the tension in his arms, the weight distribution on his legs. "Are you okay? We don't have to go, Lukasz."

He seems fine, really fine. "We're going," he says.

"Are you really okay?" I ask again.

"Would you be opposed to me saying I'm fine? Because that is what I am." A little smirk appears on his face. Of course, he mocks me for saying I hated his overuse of 'I'm fine'.

I smile and his lips collapse with mine. "You look stunning," he whispers against my mouth. "Four minutes." And then he's gone.

I stand in my living room, a little shaken but most of all completely in awe of this man who does not cease to amaze me. I look at the clock — we can still make it.

A couple minutes later my heels and earrings are back in place when the click of the door brings my attention to him as he walks out of the bathroom.

Lukasz in a suit.

Not just any suit, but a perfectly tailored, dark navy blue suit, with a white shirt underneath and a matching skinny tie that ends just over his belt. The sight almost makes me lose balance on my five inch heels.

"Would this do?" he asks shyly, looking down at himself, a strand of hair falling over his forehead which he pushes up with his hand.

"Only one thing missing." I walk closer to him, picking up the bag I left on the coffee table, his eyes show confusion but he smiles at me, intrigued. "We're supposed to wear these."

From the bag I take out the two masks, a black one for him, and a light blue that matches my dress for me.

"I know it's silly," I explain. "But it's supposed to keep everyone anonymous for donations and such."

"I see," he says. "I'm game." His chuckles are the most delicious sound in the world and I can't contain myself as I wrap my arms around his neck and bring him close to my lips.

I kiss him without restrictions, and he pulls me to him, equally as eager.

After a moment though, he pulls back for air. "You're going to make us late," he warns, softly groaning against my lips and breathing out of his nose.

I want to tell him to forget this party and take him to my room, but I don't. After all, he just rushed his way here to make it on time, barely.

My fingers move around his neck closing their way around his tie. "I like this," I say, lowering myself down.

"I'm glad." He runs a finger over my cheek. "Shall we?"

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

The cab ride to the ballroom where the fundraiser will be held is short. Our company has gone all out, and the place is lit with lights from outside. Cabs and limos are still dropping people in. So I'm guessing we're not that late.

In the car, I turn to Lukasz, putting my mask on and smiling broadly to him. "Do I look silly?"

"You look beautiful," he says as the car stops, strapping his mask on as well. He holds up a finger in front of me, asking me to wait, as he leaves the car. In a second, he's on the other side, opening the door for me.

He holds my hand as we go inside and I don't know if it's the masks, the place, the decoration, or the air, but I feel I could be dreaming. And it's hand in hand that we go in and find our table.

Some of my co-workers should be here as well, and although my department was not in charge of organizing this event, we still needed to attend. In these masks though, I have a hard time recognizing anyone.

At our table, Lukasz pulls the chair for me, but as I seat, he remains behind my chair. "Would you like something to drink?"

I look up at him over my shoulder, his smile flashing under his mask. "Sure," I say before he nods and leaves.

I greet some of the masked people at our table, realizing I don't know any of them. Everyone's going by first names only, keeping with anonymity, so that isn't much help.

My eyes find Lukasz at the bar. He leans onto the counter as he orders our drinks. My brain does a quick check of his posture, paranoically searching for any sign that he's not okay.

There isn't any.

"Cecilia?" a woman in red sits next to me. "Is it you?"

"Nancy?" Behind her red mask, I somehow seem to recognize her.

"I'm going by Penelope tonight," she says and I can't contain my laugh. She goes on to tell me about a lady from the organizing committee whose dress is apparently not-so-subtly-see-through and has everyone else going on about her nipples.

Frankly, I don't care about the woman, or her nipples, still I smile politely and laugh on cue. My eyes shifting over her shoulder, to the sight of Lukasz who's is coming behind her.

God, he could easily pass as a model in that suit.

He clears his throat, setting the glass of wine in front of me.

"Nan- Penelope, this is my friend, Lukasz," I say, worrying that maybe I should have gone with a different name too.

Nancy turns to him, flashing all of her teeth and extending her hand. "Lukasz," she adds suspiciously. "Enchanté."

"Penelope is in the outdoors activities department too," I add matter-of'-factly, wondering why she hasn't let go of his hand yet.

"Nice to meet you, Penelope." Lukasz nods politely, releasing her hand. "Would you like some wine as well?"

Of course he offers.

I inwardly pout.

She nods a little too excitedly, and as he retreats again, she turns to stare pointedly at me.

"Oh my, Cecilia! Is that Lukasz Piszczek?"

"Yes, and he's mine," I want to say, but I don't. Instead, I sigh. "I thought we were going for anonymity tonight."

"Fair enough," she adds with a smile. "That is one fine, anonymous masked man, then." She turns on her chair, gawking at him.

"Stop!" I whisper, smacking as softly as I can manage my hand on her arm.

"Oh, a little possessive, aren't we?" She smiles at me teasingly.

I drop my head, realizing how silly am I really being.

"It's okay, girl," Nancy continues. "I'd be too."

When Lukasz returns with a glass of wine for Nancy, she thanks him and starts getting up from his chair.

"Oh no, please stay." With a hand out, Lukasz stops her from giving him back his seat.

Of course he does.

He takes his place behind my chair and, as he asks a million questions about our job which gets Nancy rambling uncontrollably, his fingers make their way to my shoulder, where they run little circles every now and then.

I find I am very okay with them talking, as long as his fingers remain right where they are.

Before Nancy finishes her wine, they announce they will be serving dinner soon, so she gets up, and after friendly goodbyes, she leaves.

Lukasz lowers himself next to me. "Are you cold?"

I smile at him, shaking my head. The goose bumps in my arms have nothing to do with temperature - I actually feel very warm.

"No…" I add, after sipping from my wine. "I'm fine."

"Oh no, not the F-word!" His hand flies to his chest.

"Ha, ha…" I roll my eyes at him and he smirks, twirling his drink.

"I never pictured you as the rum and coke type, Lukasz. Where's your cranberry juice?"

"They were out!" he exclaims in mock shock. "These places you bring me to…" He shakes his head at me before smiling, tsk-ing into his glass.

He's being funny, charming — he truly is a dream come true.

My eyes stay on his, a little longer than it would be socially accepted. With the black mask covering his face, his eyes seem bluer than ever, and they shine with a light and a fervency that swallow me whole.

There suddenly is no one around us, just me and him, and I never want this moment to end.

I unequivocally realize — I love him.

I love him in the most complete sense of the word.

And I've never been so lucky that after being in front of each other for so many years, we still get a chance to be together.

"What is it?" he asks, confused, bringing me back from my spell.

"Nothing," I react quickly, grabbing my drink for shelter.

He still seems suspicious, but doesn't say anything else.

They serve our plates. The food is delicious. He asks more questions about the fundraiser and the kids that will be benefitted. He seems so genuinely excited about my job. He tells me stories about growing up and playing on crappy fields that ended up in more turned ankles than he cares to remember.

I contribute little to the conversation. I barely manage to stay put, enraptured by his voice and his eyes. It feels weird that, with a mask on, he can still convey such emotion through his eyes.

When we're both done with our plates, Lukasz is immediately off the table to deliver more drinks. When he's back, he remains standing behind me, his hands, again, brushing softly against the back of my neck. After a while, he takes my hand, gesturing to the dance floor.

I dance, with Lukasz, all night.

He never once complains, suggesting nothing other than what he thinks I want to do. I get lost in his eyes a couple more times, and there isn't ever any sign of weariness. But I know. I know he's tired. He has to be. He had a game today, flew here, and it's already one in the morning.

I know he'll never admit it, or suggest that we leave. So I decide it for us.

We are walking back to our table but before I can tell him I'm ready to leave, they announce a record breaking donation, which puts us well over our anticipated total collection.

It all hits me at once.

The sports facility will happen. It will be built. Thanks to us.

These kids. They will have a place to play and train and stay off the streets.

I can't believe I am part of this.

I am beaming with excitement when I turn to Lukasz, my hands covering my mouth, and his smile matching my heart.

"This is great, Cecilia." His eyes shine and I just know. That proud smile. The triumph in his eyes. He is part of this too.

"What did you do?!" I squint my eyes at him, suppressing a gasp.

"Me?" The smile never leaves his face.

"Yes. Did you do this?"

"Do what? Donate 1.5 million Euros to your cause?"

"Yes!"

"I did not. I'm sorry. You overestimate how much I make as a professional footballer." Nonchalant as ever, he pulls the chair for me.

I stand by the chair, crossing my arms over my chest, staring pointedly at him. I don't buy it. His eyes betray him. He is ecstatic about this.

He sees right through me. "Can't I just be happy for the kids? Geez…" He scratches the back of his neck nervously, his eyes suddenly avoiding mine. "Would you like another drink?"

"I think I'm ready to go, actually," I say, trying to be casual as well, and letting it go for now. It doesn't seem like he will admit it anyways.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm tired," I lie.

Needing not to say more, Lukasz and I make a silent escape from the party and out to the streets.

He stands next to me while we wait for the car. He seems tense, his hands in his pocket and he's looking straight away.

God, I hope this isn't about the money. The last thing I wanted was to make him feel awkward about it.

"Hey…" I reach for his arm and he snaps right out of it. When he looks at me, his eyes land on my shoulders and follow down the length of my arms. Without saying anything, he's getting rid of his jacket and putting it around my shoulders.

We exchange smiles as the cab parks in front of us and he opens the door for me.

I sit in the cab, swimming in the scent coming from his jacket. My eyes follow him as he makes it around the car. He seems off again, and an uneasy feeling sets in my stomach as I see how he takes a couple deep breaths, puffing out his cheeks, as if in preparation of what's to come.

Okay, something's up.

His face is composed as he gets in. He turns to me, a sweet smile on his face. "Can we take these off now?"

He pushes his mask off his face as I reach behind my head for the laces on mine.

"Come here…" he waves his fingers in invitation, and I scoot closer.

His hands reach behind my head, just where mine were a couple seconds ago. He can't see the laces either and I wonder how much better than me is he going to be able to do.

I don't tell him though. I can't. In the confined space of this cab - between his eyes on mine, and his perfume surrounding me — my main focus remains on keeping my hands to myself.

He seems to be struggling with the laces as well, and I laugh when he softly groans in frustration.

"Would you turn around please?" He sounds adorably upset about not being able to get the mask off of me without help. I smile but comply.

Even in his frustration, his fingers work delicately behind my head to untie the laces. When he does, he pulls the mask from my face, setting it aside.

"Much better," he says, the relief obvious in his voice.

Before I can debate whether or not to scoot back, he wraps an arm over my shoulder, pulling me even closer. For a moment he stills, his posture straight and tense, but when I rest my head on his chest he relaxes, breathing out into my hair.

I'm thankful to still have his jacket around me, or he would be able to see the contradictory effect his warm breathing is having on my skin.

"Thank you for inviting me tonight, Cecilia. I've had a great time."

I find it bizarre that he is the one thanking me, when he has made this night perfectly unforgettable.

"No…" I lift my head from his chest turning up to look at him. "Thank you." The words don't seem good enough, but they're all I have. To accompany my inadequate words, I reach closer to his lips, planting a soft kiss on them.

For a second, it's a bit awkward, because he doesn't move. But sooner rather than later, his arm closes around me and his lips move against mine.

The throat clearing sound from the front seat makes us both stop, suddenly remembering we're not alone.

"Where to, Mr. Piszczek?"

Lukasz cringes next to me as I move away. "Her place first, Thomas." He pinches his nose, and takes a deep breath. "And for god's sake, call me Lukasz already."

"Sure thing, boss," the driver says, and Lukasz shakes his head.

I giggle softly next to him as he wraps his arm around me again. "I have to get my stuff from your place," he explains.

"Oh, you're welcome to stay, Mr. Piszczek." I keep my expression playful even though I am dead serious. I don't want him to go anywhere.

"Ha, ha… very funny," he says, looking out the window. And there's that off tension again. I don't like that he's hiding his face from me.

Is he nervous about tonight?

"Hey, I'm serious." I wrap my hand over his wrist, on the arm that hangs over my shoulder.

His eyes are warm when he turns to look at me. I hope my offer gets rid of the tension I'm sensing from him since we left the party.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" he asks.

I do. I do. I do.

"Wrinkles misses you," I say instead, smiling when he finally relaxes. "You've hardly paid any attention to him."

"You're right." The corners of his lips stretch. "How inconsiderate on my part! He will get all of my attention for the rest of the evening."

"Well, not all of it…" I pout purposely.

"Okay, not all of it." He taps a finger on my nose, smiling fully at me.

Glad to have him back, I rest my head back on his chest, my body tucked up against his, as his fingers caress my hair. We fall into a silence, but my mind is going a million miles a minute, still trying to figure out what could possibly be bothering Lukasz. However, the movement of his hands in my hair is oddly hypnotizing and proves to be a great distraction for rest of the drive home.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~