A/N: Yes, I did call hell to check the temperature, and it did freeze over. :lol: Another chapter? Within a few days? Totally. This gets a little sexual towards the end of the chapter, but it's not graphic like chapter eight so I'm leaving this as rated T. And this is un-beta'd because I didn't wanna wait. :P

BTW, this chapter is dedicated to gleechild seeing as how it tis her birthday today. Happy birthday girl, I hope you enjoy. :hug:

Disclaimer: I don't own Blair, Chuck, or Gossip Girl. If I did, Blair would realize that Nate is a whiney baby and Chuck is all the man a girl could ever need.

Warnings: Rated T but may change to M in later chapters.

IF ONLY

Chapter 13

"Optimistic"

Emerging from his bathroom wrapped in only a towel, Chuck was doing his best to stay calm. The closer he got to this dinner with Blair, the closer he got to turning tail and running.

He went about dressing in a robotic manner, consciously trying to keep his mind from going into panic mode. Stepping in front of the mirror to see how he'd done on autopilot, he started to shake his head at the image he presented: half turned down collar, mismatched button holes, and hair that could have doubled for a bird's nest. Add to that the shell-shocked, terrified look to his eyes and it was plain for anyone who cared to see that Chuck Bass was actually nervous about dinner with a girl.

There was a time when someone could look into his eyes and know nothing of the thoughts inside his head; this whole thing with Blair had totally and irreversibly broken his control over that simple defense mechanism that used to come so easily.

Collars could be turned down, buttons could be realigned, hair could be combed and coated with product to keep it perfectly mussed… but his eyes would still betray the turmoil that racked his emotions.

After making the few minor adjustments to his outfit and repairing his hair, he actually struggled with whether to leave the top button undone or not. He could add an ascot to the ensemble easily, but would that be too much? Would it seem like he was trying too hard? A tie would definitely be going overboard.

Grabbing a navy blue ascot with tiny white polka dots from on of his drawers, he surveyed the finished product in the mirror again, deciding that the pale blue shirt and black slacks complimented the accessory well. He knew he looked good, but the normal confidence that came with that knowledge was absent.

Sighing in defeat, he grabbed his wallet and phone before walking out the door of his suite.

If he thought getting ready had been nerve-wracking, the drive over to Blair's was even worse. Sitting in the back of the limousine that still smelled slightly of the perfume that she wore the previous night, he found that his palms were sweaty when he wiped them down his pants.

This was getting ridiculous.

Gnashing his teeth together, he tried to ignore the nervous tremors in his stomach that were beginning to scare the hell out of him. Not because he knew they should cause him to feel sick, but because they made him long to find out what else she could make him feel. This whole experience was getting under his skin and driving him insane.

Arriving at Blair's he made the quick decision to calm his nerves the quickest way he knew how. He leaned against the building and smoked half a joint, being careful not to let the smoke cling to his clothes. Feeling a thousand times better, he stubbed out the burning end and shoved the rest in his pocket.

When he entered her foyer, all the lights were off; he looked around in the darkness for a moment until his eyes caught the light coming from her bedroom door at the top of the stairs. He climbed the stairs one by one while trying to keep his breathing at a normal pace. Reaching the door that was ajar just a crack, he pushed it open and his eyes fell on Blair.

She was sitting at a table set up in the room, with what was obviously dinner set up on top, and a lamp that served as the only light in the room. Her eyes caught his and she stood, walking over in a navy blue replica of the slip that she danced in for him in two nights ago and a pair of matching heels. Her chestnut hair was falling down over her shoulders, swaying gently as she approached him. She stopped, standing just a foot away, before greeting him softly, "Hi."

Looking in her deep brown eyes, he almost forgot to respond. "Hi," he quickly uttered, trying to recover from his faux pas. After what felt like an eternity of silence, he spoke up again, "This looks cozy, Waldorf." Gesturing to the room with his hand, he continued, "If I didn't know any better, I would think you were trying to seduce me."

"If you don't want to eat up here, we can take everything back downstairs," she teased while moving her body a few inches closer to him.

"You already went to all this trouble," he replied in the same flirty tone, bringing his hand up behind her neck. "That would be wasted effort that could be put to much better use." She was looking up at him almost expectantly, so he brought his mouth to hers and kissed her.

Just as his tongue began to brush against hers, she jerked herself away. "We should eat," she said and practically darted across the room to the table, sitting down quickly.

He narrowed his eyes at her strange behavior, but followed to the table none-the-less. Sitting down across from her, he studied her nervous demeanor. Strange how she's skittish now when she had been flirting with him moments before. He fought the urge for as long as possible before asking, "What's wrong?"

Looking up at him, he watched her force a smile. "Nothing," the smile seemed frozen in place, "I just don't want to let the food get cold."

It was moments like these that he wished he didn't know her so well. She looked like a statue sitting across from him and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't resist pushing the issue when something was so obviously wrong. "Blair…"

"Can you just drop it, Chuck?" She gave him a pointed look before adding, "You don't want to know."

When she went to dishing out their food, he crossed his arms and pushed even further, "Maybe I want to know why you seemed so anxious to kiss me one minute and so repulsed the next."

She threw her hands up in exasperation and spat, "Fine! It's because of your breath." Avoiding his eyes, she asked, "Okay?"

What was she talking about? Oh, the pot. "You have a problem with weed? You can't tell me that all the time you were dating…" Shit. He felt like a complete idiot for not dropping the subject like she asked. "So it's because it reminds you of--"

"Nate," she said softly. "Yeah, I wanted a kiss…" Her eyes were everywhere but on his as she explained, "But you taste like him. And it's not fair if I'm kissing you, but thinking about him. To either of us." When she looked up, he felt horrible for being such an ass; she looked so crestfallen.

They ate their dinner in silence, both ignoring the huge elephant in the room that he'd invited. Problem was, he wasn't hungry anymore. She was so obviously not over Nate and he kind of understood; they'd been together so long that it would take getting used to.

He spent the next twenty minutes pushing the food around on his plate, another line of questions nagging him: did she want to be kissing him? If she didn't, what were they even doing here? And why would she have even invited him over?

What the hell was going on in her head?

When Blair set up the dinner atmosphere, this was the last thing that she would have thought could've possibly happened. She figured that bringing their first night together to mind by wearing this slip instead of the dress that Serena had vetoed would be a happy medium between fairytale and seduction.

Nothing was supposed to go wrong. And definitely nothing like this was supposed to happen.

Why did he have to be so stubborn? He should have dropped it when she asked him to; they wouldn't be sitting in the uncomfortable silence that they were now if he had just listened. Hadn't she been convincing with her, 'it was nothing' routine?

She had to remember how well he could read her; he had a tendency to know more that was good for him, a talent that Nate didn't share. Then again, she usually had the same ability to read him. His current expression puzzled her, though.

He seemed upset.

She'd expected him to be uncomfortable, which would be why she didn't want to tell him her reason for pulling away, but discomfort was a long way from the distress that colored his features right now. It seemed as if he was punishing himself, pushing the food around on his plate like he'd lost his appetite.

Why did she feel like apologizing?

Before she could do anything, his eyes snapped up to hers on him and he abruptly asked, "Do you want to be kissing me, Blair?" She was shocked by the unexpected question, so no words would come in response; she was speechless, realizing that he'd been stewing over it all this time. When she didn't respond, he averted his eyes and asked again, much gentler this time, "Do you?"

She didn't even think before breathing, "Yes," softly. There was no thinking required anymore; she went through all that with Serena earlier. Blair wanted to be here, with him, inexplicably. It was the reason she'd pulled away earlier, trying to get her head back into the moment so as not to rob herself of his company.

Chuck's eyes met hers again, as if he was unsure he'd heard her right. "You do?"

Nodding slowly, she watched as he left his chair so quickly that it almost fell to the floor. Blair automatically rose from her own seat and sighed with joy when his lips crashed down on hers eagerly. Whether it was the food he'd eaten masking what she'd tasted before or just that she was so relieved they'd gotten past that bump, the kiss was wonderful. His tenderness was uncharacteristic to be sure, but she was beginning to like it.

After a few moments of heated kisses, he pulled away slightly, "Have I told you how ravishing you look tonight, Waldorf?"

There was a devilish gleam to his eye and she knew just how to respond: "What are you waiting for, Bass? Ravish me, then."

"With pleasure," he groaned, backing her up to the bed and laying her down on it. His mouth found her neck and he kissed his way down to the neckline of her slip before remarking, "This looks familiar."

She giggled, "It should." Reaching down, she worked on the buttons to his shirt and it, along with his adorable ascot, was off within seconds. She could feel his warm hands working their way down her sides and up to the hem, his lips back on hers in a searing kiss that held nothing back. This wasn't going to be the gentle lovemaking session they'd had the night before, if she could even call it that.

When he figured out her surprise, she was almost assured there would be no holding back. The long fingers slipped under the silky material and burned a trail up her outer thighs, but didn't find the underwear they were looking to remove. She knew the exact moment he figured it out because he moaned in her mouth, "Dammit, Blair..."

Smirking against his lips, she replied between kisses, "I take it… you approve?" Her hands were working on removing his pants, which did nothing to hide how much he approved.

"Hell yes," he was groaning against her mouth as he shoved the waistband of his pants down in urgency, "So fucking hot."

Knowing that she could make him this impatient was such a high that she couldn't see straight. Between his mouth on hers and his hands roaming every inch they could reach, she herself was getting more eager by the second. "Hurry, Chuck…" She knew she was gasping, but she couldn't care less at the moment.

A few seconds went by where she heard a wrapper and he was inside her within the minute. The perfect pleasure of being filled was stretching her imagination, causing her to hold on tightly and kiss him hard. The completion she felt was both terrifying and exhilarating beyond all reason.

The last coherent thought in her mind was the faintest hope that it would never grow old.

A/N: I hope the 'date' lived up to ya'll's expectations. As always, please review if you feel so inclined.