Author's Note:
Another chapter is here! This one gets much much more intense so to my most innocent viewers- you may want to skip a little. It doesn't go too far though so no real worries I hope. Tell me what you think! This is a much longer chapter as well- but that couldn't be helped- hopefully you don't mind :)
You Again?
Chapter 20
"Really, it is ridiculous. The man has the biggest head of anyone I've ever met. How can I work with that?"
Two voices spoke at once but Ray was polite enough for once to shut up so that Amy could get her word in.
"I know some people can be annoying but you just have to deal with it, Sere. That's life."
My whine came out pathetically.
"That's the worst advice ever, Amy," Ray, of course. She can never keep quiet for long. "I say you just tell him to shut up and do as you say because you're his agent and he just has to deal." I knew I loved her for a reason—then she did it again, "Hit him if you have to."
Yup, that's Ray for you. Violence is the answer- that is her motto. For a lawyer, it's pretty frightening.
"Wouldn't that be against the law somewhere?"
"Nope, I'll cover you if he files charges; we'll just claim self defense."
I couldn't help but laugh. Amy apparently had a different opinion.
"Shame on you two! How old is Mr. Wipple, Serena?"
I did feel a little guilty now… Dang Amy and her consciousness.
"Umm... Sixty-five." I muttered it, hoping it would be lost due to poor cell reception or something.
"Exactly!"
Nope, good reception. Dangit. Who ever complained about better signals and such? Sometimes it's better not to be heard.
"Age does not automatically negate that man of any responsibilities. Today's sixties are yesterday's forties. He's still young." Ray again. Yup, I love her.
"He gets hot flashes for god's sake! That man is a ticking time bomb. Didn't you say his skin is yellowish or something Serena?"
I replied with the only possible answer—the truth, "Yes…"
And then Amy was off diagnosing all Mr. Wipple's possible aliments.
"I'm telling you Amy, that man will outlive us all. He's made a deal with the devil."
This time they both laughed although Amy tried to hide it with a cough.
I rolled my eyes- not that either of them could see it.
"So, how's the Shields situation?"
That, of course, was the ever-nosy Ray. Did I mention I strongly dislike her? I know- I change my mind quickly.
"Fine. Darien will be Darien."
"Is that supposed to be some sort of 'boys will be boys' claim or something? I've never understood that one. We can't let people off the hook based on some archaic sexist excuse for the male gender."
"Did something happen with Chad, Ray?" She's been less antagonistic towards the general 'male gender' since she and Chad got together. Usually this kind of attitude indicates trouble in their weird version of paradise.
"He… well, no." She'd paused before beginning her sentence, then in the middle, then trailed off… That is definitely not our Ray.
"What is it, Ray?" My voice came out demanding. I didn't mean it to, but I'm kind of worried. Ray isn't like that at all. She never pauses- she's always been the full speed ahead kind of person.
"Nothing, really… Nothing I can be sure of at least…"
That isn't comforting… what if?
I couldn't even complete the thought.
Amy, however, could. The pragmatist of us. If you have a concern- voice it. That's the first step to a solution- she always says.
"Is he… cheating?" Even though she'd voiced it, she had to whisper the word. Amy is not as loud about her thoughts as Ray would be. She's the most empathetic of all of us. The word itself probably caused her pain- which is extremely ironic since she's a doctor who has to deal with pain much worse and real than this daily.
I was holding my breath. I couldn't- wouldn't- believe that. They'd just gotten married for God's sake!
"No," The word was choked out by Ray. I sighed in relief despite the fact that she sounded like she was crying now.
"What is it sweetie?" Ray never cries- except when her grandpa died… oh god… who?
Nope. I was completely wrong.
"I… I… am…. Preg—nant." She choked up on each part of the sentence.
"Oh my god!!"
"Honey! Congratulations."
"I can't believe it! We'll have a new little Pyro!"
"I'm going to be an auntie! A godmother!"
Amy and I took turns squeaking out our excited thoughts.
But…
"Shut up!"
Ray's scream definitely does the trick.
Uh oh.
"Why?" I couldn't help my incredulous question. Ray has never showed any enthusiasm towards children but I'd always assumed that she'd want some of her own. Kids are only awful when they aren't yours… "Do you not want it?"
The question came out kind of angry- I didn't mean to but I just never imagined any of my friends not being thrilled to be carrying a child—to possibly contemplate…
"No, no! Of course I do." I believed her immediately. She does- it's Ray. "It's just…"
Again- she trailed off, "Sweetie just spit it out already." That was surprisingly, Amy. She's gotten some gumption.
"I don't know if Chad does. We've been married almost a year, but he's always said that he doesn't want kids before he turns thirty-five or something stupid like that."
What the crap?
"Does he realize that when he's thirty-five, you'll be thirty-four and you'll only have one year to conceive safely?" That was Amy—of course, zooming in on the heart of the issue.
"He said that when people have kids in their twenties their marriage goes to crap, their kids are all messed up, and the family falls apart."
We were both silent. I'd never known Chad was such a cynic.
"Did this happen to possibly happen to his own parents?" I asked.
"No."
Okay, maybe I'm too in tune with the issues of one Darien Shields whose problems originate from childhood issues.
"Then?"
"He was a divorce attorney for a while before he turned to defense."
"Oh…" I didn't actually know what to say- luckily Amy did.
"Ray, you haven't told him have you?" We both knew the answer before it came.
"No…" Ray sounded so defeated… I didn't like that at all.
"Tell him," Again, Amy being pragmatic. "You have no idea what he actually feels about the issue. He's basing his opinion off a very skewed set of data. He dealt with only those getting divorced. What about the rest of the blissfully married, multi-babied couples in their twenties? Get him to talk to Lita. She had Jamie at 20! She couldn't even drink afterwards to celebrate. Then came Todd and Lu. They're still married and doing just fine."
There was a small pause, an intact of breath, then, "You're right." Ray sounded confident- like herself again. I smiled- that was more like it.
"Just don't let him meet Mr. Wipple and you'll be fine."
They both laughed and the tension was broken.
Ray told us all about the pregnancy- how it happened turned out to be quite the interesting story. And we were laughing the rest of our conversation.
We hung up with Ray making us swear to not tell Lita and Mina that we found out sooner- she said she'd bring it up on our Sunday lunch and we'd just have to pretend we didn't know at all.
"Don't you dare ruin it Meatballs," Was Ray's warning due to my admittedly dismal acting skills. I recoiled a little at the nickname.
"Darien doesn't even call me that anymore, Ray." I quickly replied, but before either of them could comment- or say anything about the Darien situation- I promised my participation in the little deception and hung up.
I got a call later that night from an enthusiastic Ray- Chad was over the moon about the news, of course.
Sammy was out with friends for the day so I lazed around the apartment until I got tired- which was sadly around nine o'clock.
When I got into bed, my thoughts kept straying to topics I really didn't want to contemplate.
Every time I closed my eyes I saw a face I didn't want to think of. A face that didn't exist and never would.
A small cherubic baby girl with midnight eyes, black hair, and pale-pinkish skin.
Then there was another image. Maybe worse than the first.
Midnight eyes smiled at me. Black hair- identical to the girl except for its short cut- was kept in its usual unkempt manner but it seemed more deliberately done. Most disturbing of all, my illusion was clad in a tuxedo with a rose in the lapel. The scenery left little to the imagination of the nature of his attire.
Yup, I'm crazy. It is official.
I tossed and turned in bed, trying to shake off the illusion that would never be.
I gave a silent prayer to let me sleep- to rid me of the image I couldn't help but yearn- and soon my prayers were answered.
I didn't see Darien for the rest of the week- the week before the Christmas- I mean Winter- party. I did, however, see a lot of Jenny and Mr. Wipple.
Jenny's book wasn't due to be published for another few months so she was free to do as she pleased- she decided, however, to take that relax time to bounce ideas off for her next book. I was obviously thrilled at the prospect. The time I spent with her over the week actually became the time for me to talk about my own novel ideas.
I hadn't discussed that prospect with anyone for a long time but ideas had begun to spring in my head at random times. One idea remained foremost in my mind and Jenny's enthusiasm over these usually aimless thoughts gave me more confidence- the thing I most sorely lack when it comes to my own writing.
And that is how I found myself spending the next week. My days would consist of fun conversations with Jenny or kill-me-now meetings with Mr. Wipple who was obnoxious about the fact that he would not let the New York Times once more be on his back cover praising his latest genius. He thought that putting them on again after having them compliment two of his previous books sounded stale and people would think we're paying them or something. My nights, however, were occupied by something I hadn't done for a long time- writing. And when I say writing, I mean my own personal work, not editing other people's books.
Sammy was either home lounging on the couch and stuffing his face- "preparing for the famine" as he explained (College apparently lacks food- something I would never have guessed since I gave him a mini-fridge before he entered college and I replenish its contents biweekly)- or he was out with friends. I didn't mind my solitary time. I think he realized that early on in the week so he got busy.
I found myself rewriting an old story I'd worked on partially during college. I'd written nearly a hundred pages when I'd given up on the idea altogether and got busy with real work- work that paid albeit work I loved. The story wasn't half bad if I do say so myself. Other than some major editing kinks that I hadn't caught in my previous haste and some stylistic issues and a slightly thin plot and underdeveloped characters.... Who am I kidding? It was sort of crap. The basis of the plot was the only good part. It wasn't an adult novel by any means. I knew even then that this would be a young adult book or a light read for adults I suppose. It had a touch of mystery, a dash of fantasy, and more than a hint of romance.
The story comprised of a young princess of the Moon, her four guards who were also her companions as well as a general of the Earth along with his four comrades. I rolled my eyes at the obvious inspiration for my main characters. I'd clearly drawn material for the four female guards of the Princess from my own companions. The Earth generals, however, were a bit of the mystery. Not only to me now but clearly to me back then as well.
These men all had vague nondescript personalities. My disdain for the prince was clear from his descriptions. According to my own hand he was "quarrelsome, cynical, and insolent". I didn't understand the characters I had written about… and there lay in the problem. I realized this immediately. My years of editing, reviewing, and just reading others' work made this obvious to me. I hadn't understood my own characters, I hadn't related to them. I had made Selene, the Moon Princess, obviously in love with Endymion, one of the guards of the Earth, but I didn't understand the reasoning behind her feelings- or his. The characters were polar opposites in most manners. Selene was like a brilliant light, joyful, passionate, creative, and overall optimistic. Endymion seemed haughty, loathing, and dim.
I didn't like Endymion's character. I began to reedit Endymion's role and I found that I didn't need to rewrite all of his history to make him a more lovable and human character. He became sarcastic where he'd once been merely bitter. He was witty but kept his arrogance. Selene's character too had to be revised. No person- or in this case whatever a moon person was (I'd have to come up with a name… the current one is not very creative- "Moon People".)- could be so great. I'd made two equally unlovable characters. How could anyone relate to a character so full of everything good and no flaws? She kept her passionate demeanor but her selflessness disappeared. Now I made her want to be selfless- that is what her people expected- but she couldn't help some of her own yearnings- for a life of her own away from everyone, to be something other than the Lunar Princess. And somehow as I wrote on I discovered my own love for these new characters I had built. And the seconds, minutes, hours, and days passed without my notice. I stayed up late nights working on my own writing instead of editing. I wasn't being remiss in my responsibilities- I honestly had no editing work to do. Mr. Wipple was my only worry at the moment, but his complaints had to go through his marketing team, not me.
So as you can imagine, the Winter Party kind of crept up on me. I hadn't noticed the days flying. By the time Friday rolled around with only one day before the party, I realized I hadn't gotten a dress, I hadn't even thought about what I'd wear to the thing. And this isn't just a vanity thing, this party is a big deal to the company. If I wore an old dress I'd never hear the end of it. Mr. Wipple wouldn't be the only one with complaints. The party was all about the company image and no one could ruin that.
I did the only thing I could then. I called Mina.
"You're kidding," that was her response to my confession.
"No, I'm not."
"Serena, the party is tomorrow night. How could you not have gotten something by now? Everything good is probably gone."
I rolled my eyes, "There isn't some sort of dress shortage Mina."
"There is an economic crisis, you don't think that that effects the fashion world?"
Leave it to Mina to come up with something like that.
"I don't need something really fashionable. Just anything. Anything pretty and formal and looks new. I'm not actually proposing shopping. I'm proposing you lend me a dress."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because, this is your time to go all out. What other excuse do you have to spend three thousand dollars on a dress?"
I couldn't help my snort, "Three thousand dollars? Mina, I won't even spend that much on my wedding dress."
"Oooo, who's the wedding to?" She sounded giggly- as usual.
"Brad. Oh did I forget to tell you? We've been secretly dating for about three months now and he proposed last week. You know how I love it when he stutters my name. We'll be at the aisle and he'll say 'I.. I dooo'. It'll be really romantic."
"Really?" She sounded serious. Oh god.
"No, you idiot!"
She laughed again, "Just kidding, Sere. But seriously you need a dress pronto. Meet you in five."
"What?" No, no. This was not happening.
Yup, she hung up.
And that is how I found myself soar and achy after trying on what I presume to be about a million dresses. Trust me, the economic crisis does not extend to the fashion world.
"I like this one." I said as I trudged out of the fitting room without once glancing in the mirror.
Mina didn't look thrilled. She'd been standing there for the past three hours basically checking me out in everyone of these dress. Up and down her eyes went and then she'd shake her head in disappointment. This dress was no exception. She handed me another to try on.
"Mins, I'm tired. I just want to sleep now. I'll go in jeans, who cares if I get fired?"
She rolled her eyes, "You will not. Now trust me on this one. I have a good feeling."
It was my turn to roll my eyes. "Didn't you say that about the last billion dresses you handed me?"
"Well, I have the best feeling about this one."
I trudged back to the fitting room and got my first glimpse of me in the current dress.
Ew… I'd rather go in jeans. It had random awkward bows all over the bodice and the train dragged. It was also black so it made me look like some extremely depressed, not to mention fashion impaired, widow.
I looked down at the latest gown she'd given me… if it could be considered a gown. It looked kind of short… but heck, what have I got to lose?
I slipped it on and walked out without a glimmer of hope in my poor and fatigued soul…
But the flame was re-lit when I saw Mina's expression. She looked awed.
I looked down but couldn't properly make an assessment so I went over to the mirror.
And I loved it.
It was a little gold number but it seemed perfect. A wee bit short but still. It reached just above the knees so a bit scandalous but I was okay with that. Usually these things meant floor length dresses but I couldn't picture myself going in anything else. The dress puffed out in a ballgown-type of fashion. The bodice was simple, a lighter shade of gold that seemed to shimmer. It had a V neck that didn't plunge too little or too much and off the shoulder sleeves that were pretty and modest. It was me.
"B.E.A. utiful," was Mina's only comment before I slipped out of my dress and went to the register.
And it came. The day after Mina and my escapade. I'd also bought a golden clutch seeing as I had nowhere to put any of my belongings asides from my cleavage- which always seemed a rather uncomfortable idea in my opinion. I came a bit early as per my usual. I spoke to Jenny and her husband as well as Mr. Wipple and his wife, whom I felt deep remorse towards until… well, until she spoke.
"Oh, dear. Did something happen to your dress?" Mrs. Wipple had asked in her posh British accent and I'd looked down worriedly hoping I hadn't spilt anything as I was so prone to doing. Nope, not a drop. When I looked back at her she had a fake apologetic expression plastered. "Deary me. I thought the train had been cut or something equally dreadful. I hadn't realized you were on the prowl tonight."
Flabbergasted didn't even begin to describe what I felt.
I stuttered my response. "I… I'm not on the prowl." I couldn't even say the words aloud, they were whispered.
She gave me a conspiratorial look, "Don't worry dear. Mums the word. I won't warn a soul."
"I…"
I couldn't think of a single response.
"I was single once too, deary. Not nearly as long as you, heavens forbid," Here she gave a hearty laugh, "But single nonetheless. A woman's got to use any charm she's got. Dog eat dog world as you Americans say. Isn't that right, Dear?" Here, to my horror, she'd turned to Mr. Wipple for affirmation. To my complete and total horror he looked me up and down and the faintest hint of a smirk penetrated his usually stoic features.
"She does, indeed, have a certain appeal." He replied in his own lame imitation of his wife's accent and didn't take the creepy gaze from me. I felt an awful chill crawling up my spin. Can I say eww? He's more than double my age!
"Charles!" Mrs. Wipple nudged him, scandalized.
"Um.. I… uh…" I was trying to come up with an excuse to leave but couldn't so I merely gave a polite smile and muttered, "gotta go."
I could hear them arguing behind me as I nearly ran for safety. Mrs. Wipple thinks I'm trying to bag myself some unsuspecting mate and Mr. Wipple likes my "appeal"; what a wonderful night this is truly turning out to be. And it had only begun.
Once I felt I had left my worries at a safe distance I slowed my pace and headed toward a haven that I could vaguely see.
Balconies really are the only places to get any air at events like these. Inside, everyone is within groping distance of each other- something that does not bring me comfort whatsoever. I leaned against the icy rail, clutching my purse with one hand, and looked up at the barely visible moon. It was hiding tonight. Lucky moon.
I had to put on my shawl. No wonder no one was out here- it's freezing… and I'm in my slut's dress.
"Escaping already?"
The voice penetrated the still night from behind me but I didn't look back to see who it was. I knew.
"I figure freezing to death is a better option than conversing with Mrs. Wipple and being checked out by Mr. Wipple."
Darien laughed behind me. "He's married?"
"Yup."
"Lucky woman from everything you've been telling me."
"I'm green with envy."
This time we both laughed slightly at my wit. Yup, I'm witty.
He came and stood beside me. He wasn't smart either. From my peripheral vision I could tell that he didn't have a coat, just the suit jacket. They take the coats when you enter. It isn't very nice.
"You sure you wouldn't rather go in?" He spoke as he looked over at my frozen form.
It really was cold.
"Just a little while longer."
He laughed for a second then I heard a slight shuffling and within an instant I felt a weight on my shoulders…
His suit jacket.
"Death or this?" He questioned with a certain glimmer in his eyes when I looked at him questioningly.
"You'll be cold."
"I'll survive, I'm not the one in the short dress." His eyes trailed down for an instant and were back up to meet my gaze.
"It isn't that short!" I countered then couldn't help but exhale a little. "Maybe it is. God, I should've gone shopping with Ray. She would have never let me buy this."
I heard as well as felt his chuckle- it reverberated within his chest which was surprisingly very close to me now. Our arms were almost touching. I could feel our close proximity.
"I'm glad you didn't. I like it."
I looked at him a little surprised. He'd never given me a compliment before.
"Well… Thank you."
We were quiet for a second before I broke the silence, "So you came."
"You're very observant I see."
I shoved him a little with my shoulder, "Shut up." I looked over at him- he returned my gaze, "All I mean is that the last time we spoke you were pretty down on the subject."
"What can I say? You're very persuasive." His smile widened a bit then he looked behind us. "We should probably go in before either of us gets pneumonia or someone thinks we've been kidnapped."
I nodded in response and we headed inside. As soon as we walked through the doors I heard a familiar squeak of excitement. Looking up, I was greeted by a mischievous looking Cindy. She smiled- more like smirked- and pointed upward.
I followed her gaze…
And low and behold there was mistletoe directly above my head.
"I thought this was a Winter party. Isn't mistletoe offense for the none-Christmas-celebrating crowd?" I argued crossing my arms. I knew my cheeks were probably bright red but that could've been taken as due to the extreme cold outside.
Darien merely smiled by my side- not arguing.
Cindy rolled her eyes and came a little closer- within talking and not shouting distance. "It is tradition. Christmas celebrating or not. You can't break it, Sere. It has got to be some sort of bad luck."
Darien turned to me- still smiling. Cindy smiled, "I'll give you privacy." And she walked away.
Oh god…
"I'm not too big on traditions." I muttered, but met his gaze. He shrugged slightly but the smile didn't falter.
"Me neither."
"Well, then we're good. We can just walk off unscathed." I swallowed a little, anticipating his response.
"We could," He agreed amicably.
That is not what I anticipated…
Never mind. No 'oh god'.
He doesn't care.
That's good… Really it is…
I don't want this anyway. I mean, it's ridiculous. Stupid. Totally adolescent.
Just as I convinced myself of this and was about to walk off, I felt something pull me back.
His hand on mine.
"But," He added, looking at me with his crooked smile, "Where would the fun be in that?"
And then I couldn't breath. Every part of me froze. Just like those deer in headlights I hear so much about.
I tried to speak but nothing came out.
He didn't seem to mind.
First I saw his smile grow a little then I felt a hand snake beneath the jacket I'd forgotten about- around my waist pulling me close- very close (the puff of my dress squashed completely)- then all I could see was his midnight eyes on mine. He stared at me for a moment. Just staring. Not moving- not letting me move- not breathing- not letting me breath… and finally- his eyes were hidden from my view.
I felt his lips press gently on mine and all I could think was "oh my god". It was the briefest of contact. Before I could even register anything it was over and I felt bereft. My eyes remained wide open.
I hadn't moved.
He didn't let me go.
Some kind of devil- maybe a super Id- must have taken over Shields because as soon as the contact was over his crooked smile reappeared and he said in the barest of whispers- that I could feel on my now all-too-sensitive and anything-but-cold skin, "That's the best you've got?"
I could hear my heart racing- fast, almost painfully fast. Briefly, I wondered if he could hear it- maybe he did and was being nice or ignoring it…
But I could be having a heart attack for all he kno—
I didn't have time to work up any anger over the frivolous thought because he was back- right there- making Darien the only thing I could see… Or feel...
I couldn't control the little squeak that escaped me.
My eyes closed of their own accord and I didn't even have control of myself. I was anything but immobile this time. One of my hands immediately found purchase around his waist; the other somehow managed to attach in his hair- seeming to will him to stay right where he was- maybe even willing him to come closer if that were possible.
My limbs had a mind of their own…
I'd never felt anything quite like this. Heat pulsated from every inch of my being. His lips were firm but somehow gentle on mine; one of his hands cupped my cheek and worked its own crazy magic with soft barely-there caresses, the other tightened its hold around my waist and had at one point managed to drop the suit jacket to the floor. And although he was right there, practically every inch of his six foot something self molding with my much shorter frame, it didn't seem to be enough. My body ground into his without my permission- not that I minded much. The softness of the kiss seemed to disappear then as my body eliminated the few microscopic spaces that had separated us and I could barely think- let alone breathe.
My lips parted, he entered without hesitation and it was all over for me. Nothing but this feral, explosive attraction existed. I melted completely, no will, no protest. My mind shut off.
Then I heard it.
It was barely audible. Almost like the sound of an annoying fly fleetingly buzzing by an ear. So I ignored it and kept my focus on the insanity that was this moment.
Then again.
And my eyes flew open, I could tell that Darien had not been rudely awakened from the lustful haze as I had been for his eyes remained closed and his hands remained in the vice-like grip and our lips remained locked. I tried to go limp in his hold but he didn't notice. I couldn't think what else to do so I did the only thing I could, I pushed him none-too-gently.
He awoke.
He blinked a few times to focus and then smiled sheepishly at me.
Oh, he thought I'd stopped him… That's good he doesn't realize that if it had been merely up to me we would probably have been in a very precarious situation… more precarious that is… in front of all these people.
Oh god.
I hadn't remembered the people.
I turned, anticipating the sight of the full crowd shaking their heads in disapproval… but alas it was only one face that greeted me- not in disapproval even, disapproval would have been preferred.
"Caught one already?" Mrs. Wipple smiled conspiratorially at me, "And the night is still young." She winked, but moved to within whispering range. I wanted to back away but couldn't. "You might want to be a bit more confined though, Dearie. Don't give the prize away so quickly."
And she walked off.
Leaving me in the most awkward situation of my life.
Darien and I stood for a brief moment. My lips soar, my body buzzing, my mind racing, I stood motionless.
"What?" Darien finally spoke.
I blinked.
"Mrs. Wipple thinks my dress is slutty and I'm on the prowl."
"Oh."
I can't believe I just said that…
"Well, what do you want to do now?" I managed to get the words out… and realized how lame they were.
What have I done?
So, I avoided, I picked up his jacket quickly off the floor, handed it to him, and tried to walk away.
He followed- no longer in the shocked state.
His smile was back.
"Well… I rather liked what we had been doing…"
Oh god.
I laughed awkwardly, "I gotta get out of here." I kept walking- blindly, I didn't know where I was going. I could barely register anything but my own humiliation and the awkwardness of the situation.
He followed…
God. He wasn't making this easy, was he?
I walked faster…
Then I felt his arm on my shoulder and stiffened. What was happening?
But he was merely guiding me I quickly realized. I was about to collide with a fairly plump fellow. I sighed a little- from frustration or relief or disappointment I couldn't tell.
I kept walking, but didn't realize where I had been led until it was too late.
The coat closet.
Great.
Trapped…
I attempted to walk out but he stepped in front of me- blocking my path.
"What are you doing?" I whispered desperately.
"Getting you out of there." He whispered back.
Then he leaned in quickly before I could think or make a move. His lips swooped down to capture mine within seconds and my control was gone again.
I found myself being pushed back quickly- albeit gently- against the wall or what I thought was the wall… I nearly tripped back as I fell behind the coats but caught myself by holding onto the only thing I could- Darien.
We didn't fall- he caught me before I could and leaned me up against the actual wall. He looked at me for a second and I could see the darkened midnight eyes in the barely-there illumination- it was coming from the crack in the door. It was clear what he was asking.
I didn't say anything. My brain wasn't functioning at all.
My body, on the other hand, was a different matter.
I was the one who stood on tiptoe to reach my much-coveted prize. I caught his lips in my own and he was back in action once more. It was almost painful to reach up to his level and he quickly picked up on this.
He didn't seem to want to stoop down to mine either. Without breaking our liplock, he lifted me slightly with his arms and gave a slight grunt at the effort that made me laugh.
"Shut up," he muttered softly against my lips. That didn't help my current humor.
"Old man," I whispered and the giggles burst forth.
"Oh yeah?" He challenged with that good-natured spark in his eyes.
"Yup," I replied easily as I wound my arms around his neck.
He did his one upturned brow thing then lifted me with seemingly no effort and pinioned me in the position with his body.
"Now this is awkward." I muttered.
"You'll live." He replied and leaned back into my embrace.
I nearly fell a couple of times which caused even more giggles from me until Darien came up with the perfect solution. Reaching down, he managed to wind my legs tightly around his waist and held onto the backs of my thighs for support.
The humor completely disappeared.
All I could think of was what I was feeling.
The heat and tension were palpable. The kiss was electric. Every hard contour of his body aligned with my softer ones, leaving little to the imagination. But the strongest of my emotions were not the lustful ones- although those were quickly clouding all my better judgments. The tug that my heart felt- strong and forceful- seemed to connect me to him. I didn't know why or how but from the moment our lips met- maybe even before then- we were bound somehow.
He eventually let my lips go in order to breathe but he didn't let me go. He trailed a path of soft butterfly kisses down my neck as his hand wandered- both actions which did nothing to alleviate my bizarre hormones.
I was in complete and total bliss. If there was a heaven, I couldn't see it being better than this moment.
Then he froze.
Which made me freeze.
What had happened?
The fog cleared slightly and I heard, "Have a nice evening, sir" before the light filtered completely into the room- or closet whatever.
Oh my god.
But no one saw us. I don't think.
There were two racks hiding us from view. I didn't dare to even breathe although that was increasingly difficult since it had been so labored just moments ago.
After what seemed like forever- but really probably only a few seconds- the light shrunk back to its previous sliver.
I let my breath go- as did Darien.
"Not a good idea." I managed to finally say something sane. My brain was still working- at least for the moment.
He didn't protest this time, he held me up until I was able to untangle myself from him. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks- like it hadn't before…
I readjusted my dress quickly- it had hiked up in my previous position…
"Sorry," I was shocked to hear the word. I looked up to see him once more giving me that sheepish look.
"No problem. Well, yes problem, but not yours." I replied, "At least not totally."
He gave that crooked smile and I returned my own.
"This totally got out of hand. I'm sure we can get past this."
Now he looked confused.
"Past this?"
I nodded firmly, no longer able to meet his gaze. I was afraid that I'd give away something without even realizing what it was.
"Yup. This was completely unprofessional on both our parts." I nodded again and adjusted my dress just to do something with my awkwardly still hands. "Forgive and forget?"
I somehow knew that his brow rose- didn't see it since I wasn't looking at him- but I knew, "What?"
"Well, I know we may not be able to forget quite yet but we can at least pretend none of this happened. Deal?" With bated breath I reached my hand out for a shake.
I saw his hand extend to meet my own. I let the breath go.
I felt an odd twist in my stomach- like I was about to be sick.
This was great. We were getting past this.
His hand wrapped around my own and despite this being the most innocent of all forms of contact, my hormones ran rampant at the mere touch. Flashes of what had just happened ran through my mind.
I'm crazy.
When I tried to shake it slightly, he didn't move his hand to my will, instead he pulled it closer- me closer. I stopped myself from moving.
I felt his other hand push my chin up so I could meet his gaze. His eyes held that same spark of humor I always saw but they seemed- felt- softer than ever.
"Sere," my eyes widened at the way he made my nickname sound oddly intimate, "I'm not forgiving anything because there is nothing to forgive. I'm not forgetting anything because I can't- even if I wanted to."
Which implies he doesn't want to… But maybe I'm reading into it.
I laughed awkwardly- trying to keep eye contact. "Pretend to forget is what I said."
He gave the crooked smile. "And if I don't want to pretend to forget?"
My heart skipped a little, but I stomped down that feeling.
"Too bad. You have to." My stubborn nature seemed to come out fully at this moment. "I'm your agent. We are professionals. This," I pointed towards us, "was not professional. It was stupid and adolescent." I rolled my eyes, "For heaven's sake- we're in a coat closet!" I made my yell a whisper as not arouse suspicion from any possible passerbyers.
I could see a faint tint of pink rise in his cheeks but he merely shrugged and gave a boyish smile, "Probably not the best idea I've had, but I couldn't really think." The smile crooked, "Not with you that close."
I shoved him slightly- his hand separated from mine (as I'd intended)- "That is too cheesy Shields. You use that line on all the girls?"
His smile grew- fully with the pearly whites and all- "No, just you."
I couldn't help but laugh a little, "Again. Not genuine Shields."
"Why have we reverted back to Shields? You'd think what just happened here would lead to less formality…"
"Nothing happened here."
He gave me an incredulous look, "Really… well, from what I could tell, if we hadn't been so rudely interrupted we would probably—"
I cut him off, "Nope. Nothing would have happened. In fact, nothing happened."
"Serena…" He smirked with an all-too-knowledgeable look.
"Nope. Nothing." I quickly cut off.
"Seriousl—"
"Ne—"
"Ser—"
"Nope—"
"Come o—"
"eh!"
"Meatballhead!"
I glared, "Do not call me that."
"Well, your acting like one right now." He crossed his arms in frustration, but somehow he seemed to be enjoying this…
I took a breath to calm myself, "You are the one acting like the meatball brains right now. This did not- in no way—" I reinforced my words with a pointed finger at him, "happen."
Then I stalked out of my trap- that is, the coat closet.
As soon as I exited I heard a squeal of surprise.
I didn't know the woman but the situation did look weird.
I merely laughed it off, "Forgot my lipstick in my coat."
I looked down at my hands and laughed again, "Oh! Did it again! One moment." I reentered the closet and closed the door behind me. Darien was standing just inches from the door, "Hide," I hissed.
He looked at me oddly, "Just go hide, trust me! Don't come out until I tell you to." He gave me another look but did as I instructed. I took a moment to breathe then opened the door again—the woman was still standing in the same spot, "What do you know! I forgot the lipstick altogether!"
The woman merely smiled indulgently at me and walked away- the coat/greeter person wasn't there and apparently getting away from the crazy person was a higher priority.
When she was out of sight I hissed inside, "Come out."
He was there within an instant- guiding me quickly away from the closet before anymore prying eyes came. This time, I didn't let him lead- who knew where we'd end up? The Janitor's closet?
No thank you.
I directed us straight back to the party where Mrs. Hayden immediately greeted me- apparently thinking I'd just come… Well, I wasn't going to tell her differently.
I maneuvered myself away from her after pleasantries and scurried off as far from Darien as possible.
And bumped into Cindy…
"Hey! So, you're back?" She winked. Oh god!
"What do you mean? I just went to go get something to drink."
She rolled her eyes, "So where is it?"
"Where's what?" This was getting exhausting.
"The drink."
"I drank it."
"Already?"
"Yup."
"Trying to get drunk?"
"Definitely."
She looked at me oddly, but I merely smiled and said, "Well, I'd better be off. If I want to accomplish my goal, I should get started."
"The goal of getting drunk?" Cindy reiterated with a smile.
"Yup, I'm going to go get drunk."
"Already, Dearie?"
Oh, no.
I turned to see Mrs. Wipple giving me a deprecating smile.
I shrugged. What could I possibly say?
"He got tired already? Told you, Dearie. Hold onto the prize."
I wanted to cry.
"I did." The words came out as a whine. All I could think was: if it was such a prize and I kept onto it, why did I feel so unlucky? Pun intended.